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    Thursday, 24 July 2008

    Life is Short

    Which means:
    1. You can tease it mercilessly until it develops a complex.
    2. It won't get to date tall women.
    3. You can hold it at arm's length while you kick it.
    4. It won't get to go on any of the really cool rides at amusement parks.
    5. You can do fun stuff like look over it's head and pretend not to see it standing there, trying to get your attention.
    Take that, life!

    What's the moral to the story? Don't wait around for tomorrow: Punch life in the face today.

    (Don't be scared, it has short little stumpy legs -- you can outrun it)

    Friday, 18 July 2008

    Who Watches the Watchmen?

    Me baby, me. At least, that's if I have anything to say about it.

    Watchmen was a limited series comic written by Alan Moore in 1986-7. It brought about a massive cultural shift in that it pushed the graphic novel format into the mainstream. To date, it is the only graphic novel to ever win a Hugo Award and is also the only graphic novel to have made it onto Time Magazine's list of the "One hundred best English novels from 1923 to the present" in 2005.

    I'm not going to cover the story details except to say that it is set in a dystopian alternate reality that is perilously close to nuclear warfare and follows a group of superheroes trying to discover who murdered one of the group. No way I'm saying more than that; I'm not spoiling it for you.

    Alan Moore is notoriously guarded about his projects being turned into movies. It seems that even when the adaptation is regarded as being quite a good one (V for Vendetta), Moore has done his best to distance himself from it. In fact, he refuses to have his name attached to any of his stories that have been adapted to film. In fact, he's not only had his name removed from Watchmen, he's also negotiated to have ALL of his royalties from the film go to Dave Gibbons (the artist of the original limited series) AND has refused to receive any updates on the project whatsoever. Damn!

    Well, sorry Mr. Cranky Pants Moore, but this is a film that had to be made and I, for one, am very pleased about it! After many, MANY years in limbo, the project finally got under way. It's being directed by Zack Snyder (of 300 fame), from Alex Tse's adaptation of David Hayter's screenplay.

    The trailer was released today and the film looks absolutely, gob-smackingly, jaw-droppingly amazing. Yep, I'm not going to lie -- a little bit of pee came out. Sorry but there it is.

    Check out the website for the brand spankin' new trailer and (stunning) character designs:

    I'll definitely be watching Watchmen. It's just a shame that it's so damn far away.

    Thursday, 17 July 2008

    Review: The Dark Knight

    Wow. Just... wow. The Dark Knight, Christopher Nolan's sequel to the 2005 film Batman Begins, blew my cotton socks off. In general, sequels tend to fail to match the quality of the original but Dark Knight takes the original, gives it an atomic wedgie and steals its lunch money.

    Batman's first year of crime fighting in Gotham City has done wonders: The criminals are too scared to venture out at night, police and lawyer-types are actually beginning to enforce the law and Gotham's citizens are once again living in the light. In fact, things are going so well that Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) is actually thinking about hanging up the bat ears because Gotham's new District Attorney and resident white knight, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) is doing what Batman can't -- take down scores of villains at a time, in the daylight.

    Unfortunately for Batman and Gotham City, the Joker (Heath Ledger) has other plans. He believes the city deserves, "a better class of criminal" and that's his specialty. The Joker is anarchy incarnate and that's what he intends to visit on Gotham City. Only Batman can stop him but he might have to break his "one rule" (He never kills) in order to do it. Of course, this is the delicious irony of the Joker's plan - it's a win/win outcome because either Gotham will fall into chaos, or its greatest hero, Batman, will break the rule and become the very thing he despises.

    Christopher and Jonathan Nolan have done an amazing job with the screenplay, crafting an intricate tale that explores the impact of Batman's existence in a real world setting. That's what makes this movie so excellent: rather than going for big comic book action and lots of special effects, The Dark Knight constantly grounds its characters in reality (apart, it must be said, from some uber Sonic technology used late in the film).

    Nolan's direction is also outstanding. This film has many more day time scenes than the last one, yet the overall tone is still dark and ominous. Although the film is long at 152 minutes, it still feels exceptionally well-paced, with virtually every scene essential to the plot. The action sequences are of a much higher standard than in the prequel, actually allowing audiences to see Batman throw down with scores of bad guys (though sadly, he's a bit less martial arty in this film). There are also some great Batmobile and Batpod (i.e. Batcycle) sequences. The sequence involving Batman and the Joker's pursuit of a police convoy escorting some very special cargo is particularly gripping.

    Nolan raises some deep and important questions in the film: Can vigilantism ever be justified? How far is it acceptable to go in order to stop "evil" of any kind? And finally, what is the true measure of a hero? Is a hero what a city, a country or the world wants, or what it needs?

    The Dark Knight's characters are rich, interesting and thoroughly engaging. Christian Bale is again excellent as Bruce Wayne/Batman, portraying the dual character believably and intensely, but he does suffer slightly from lack of screen time. My one complaint with the movie was that I would have enjoyed seeing more of both the billionaire playboy and the Batman. Aaron Eckhart is very good but not incredible as Harvey Dent. He plays the go-getting and passionate DA very well but falls just short of the intensity required of his character in the film's final act. At last we come to Heath Ledger's turn as The Joker. Two words: Fucking Amazing. If acting success is judged by how much an actor transforms into a new character, shedding their own skin and becoming the character, then Heath succeeds admirably. If he were to receive a posthumous Oscar for his performance, it would be well-deserved.

    The supporting cast are all superb, given the amount of screen time they have. Returning from the previous film, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and Gary Oldman add credibility and weight to the film. Each plays their character in a very understated, professional manner that will leave you remembering key scenes involving each of them. The stunning Maggie Gyllenhaal brings warmth, grace and pathos to her role as Rachel Dawes. Her performance in a pivotal scene of the film involving a two-way radio conversation is particularly moving.

    I feel that I'm not doing this film enough justice in writing a review having only seen it once. It's the first movie in quite a while that I've walked away from thinking, 'Man, I don't know where to start.' I'm definitely going to have to see it again... possibly a few times. I'm going to agree with some of the other reviews I've read and say that this is the best film I've seen this year.

    What happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force? Go and see The Dark Knight and find out. You won't be disappointed.

    Sunday, 13 July 2008

    Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

    I love Joss Whedon for a multitude of reasons. He created Buffy. I loved Buffy (the character and the TV series). He had a great run as the scribe for Marvel Comics' 'Astonishing X-Men'. In addition, he has a mighty forehead. Well, you're not alone there, Joss and you know what I say - "Mighty forehead, mighty brain."

    Yes, that's right, all of you people with a full and luxurious head of hair, you heard me. It only shows how dumb you all are! My brain is so massive that it needed to push the hair out of my forehead to provide me with the extra cooling and heating required to safely power such an awe-inspiring marvel! AhahahAhaHaHAHAHAhaHaHA!

    *ahem* So anyway, Joss Whedon. I love his writing style and have always found the ideas he plays with to be really interesting and well thought out. That's why I'm very much looking forward to his new series, 'Dollhouse' (Well, the fact that it stars the delectable Eliza Dushku doesn't hurt either), which premieres in January 2009.

    Unfortunately, that's a very long time to wait for Whedon-written watching material. Fortunately, we will soon have our Whedon appetite whetted by an interesting little online project called 'Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog'.

    I really don't know too much about the storyline at present, except that it's a comedic musical starring Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion, about a mad scientist (Harris) attempting to finally get the upper hand on his adversary (Fillion). Sounds fun!

    What makes this production truly unique is that it will be available for a first viewing online at no cost to the viewer! The three parts will go up on the website on Tuesday July 15th, Thursday July 17th and Saturday July 19th respectively. If you happen to miss them, don't fret as there are plans for them all to go up together later on, as well as an eventual DVD release.

    Here's the website in question:

    Having seen the musical episode of Buffy, 'Once More With Feeling' and having read/watched a lot of his writing, I think this is going to be great fun. I'm excited to see something truly... Horrible!

    Saturday, 12 July 2008

    King Leer

    Well played, sir. Well played. Kudos to you, Big Brother. Whilst the majority of your recent publicity stunts ("twists", "surprise" evictions, "surprise" invaders, "surprise" prize money) have done nothing to tempt me (in fact, if anything, they've made me want to watch even less), your latest ploy had me watching despite myself.

    I've tried very hard not to be a Big Brother watcher this season but I have to ashamedly admit that I was hooked in by the recent Pamela Anderson visit to the house.

    Why did I inflict this horror upon myself? It wasn't really to do with Pamela Anderson herself per se, although 14 years ago I thought she was about the hottest thing on the planet, but rather, how I thought the boys in the house would react to her.

    In general, I feel a bit sorry for us men. Most of us see any cleavage whatsoever and immediately lose track of what we're doing and why we're doing it. We gawk, open-mouthed as our brain pops out for a quick beer. Don't get me wrong - it's definitely not something I condone but it IS something I definitely have to laugh at.

    It's even more humorous when you see a guy desperately trying not to look at something he desperately wants to look at. The amount of strain the hapless male is under as he tries to do two totally opposite things at the same time makes it look like there's two sources of gravity at work on his eyes. It's even funnier when the guy in question thinks he's being really subtle about it.

    Having watched the show's opening night (another admission), I had a fairly strong suspicion that the majority of the boys in the house were massive perverts and I thought Pammy might be the true test of just how dumb boys can be around blonde hair and/or big boobs.

    As it turned out, watching Pam's entrance into the house proved to be as hilarious as I had suspected it might be - pretty much all of the boys falling over themselves trying with all of their might not to look at Ms. Anderson's impressive cleavage, whilst simultaneously being compelled against their will to do so. So who was the worst? Cherry gets my vote for 'King Leer' due to his general creepiness and his sleazy attitude towards all of the girls, not just Pam.

    I can't say it was Shakespeare, but for the first time this year, a few minutes of Big Brother actually managed to entertain me. Who knows - maybe the bawdy bard himself might have been lost for words in Pam's presence? Somehow, I doubt it.

    Thursday, 10 July 2008

    'The Dark Knight' or 'Why I'm Going to Feel Sorry For Bec Next Thursday Night'

    Next Thursday sees the release of Christopher Nolan's 'The Dark Knight', possibly my most anticipated movie of the year, which is saying something in a year that has already seen a new Indiana Jones movie (Damn good, bad work with the monkeys though, Spielbergo & Co), 'Iron Man' (awesome) and 'The Incredible Hulk' (mean and green, the way I like it), amongst numerous other films.

    By all accounts the movie is amazing in all departments, easily exceeding the original. Indeed, Kevin Smith has already touted it as being as good a sequel as 'Godfather II' was to its prequel on his blog ( and one of my favourite reviewers, Garth Franklin over at Dark Horizons ( has gone apeshit mental, suffered a brain explosion and suggested that it's the best movie of the year so far, or possibly of the year full stop.

    In short, it appears that this movie has been created to rock my fucking socks off. Although I try not to overly hype movies before I see them these days, for fear of being let down, I am finding it very difficult not to get psychotically worked up about 'The Dark Knight'.

    Why is this leading me to feel sorry for my beautiful wife? Well, several reasons:
    1. She often sits patiently through my explanations of why this episode of 'Doctor Who' was cool, how well-written 'Battlestar Galactica' is and what's happening in this month's issue of 'Amazing Spider-Man'. She does all this despite having no personal interest whatsoever in these subjects.
    2. She's coming to the movie next Thursday with a bunch of geeks who are realistically going to be behaving like giddy schoolgirls before, after and during the movie. Not a cool move for anyone with a modicum of self-respect, which she has.
    3. She has to sit next to me during the movie and try her best to block out my continual little squeals of delight or, better still, try to pretend like she doesn't know me.
    4. I'll probably hold her hand during the movie and, I'm not going to lie, I tend to get pretty sweaty hands when I'm watching a movie I'm engrossed in. Even worse, I sometimes squeeze too tightly when I'm excited.
    So to my lovely, immensely patient and very understanding wife, I apologise profusely in advance for the wet and broken hand that you're more than likely going to have next Thursday night. Batman made me do it!

    Wednesday, 9 July 2008

    Facebook "Friend" Sluts defines "Popularity" as "The quality or state of being popular, especially the state of being widely admired, accepted, or sought after."

    In times gone by, the poor folk who came before us probably found it difficult to judge how popular they truly were. They would have had to rely on old fashioned things such as seeing how many people actually came to their birthday party/night out, etc, or how often they received invitations to such social events from others.

    Thank god those "Dark Ages" are behind us. Now we don't need to wonder about such things as the marvels of modern technology have given us the means to truly, empirically determine how widely admired we are: enter the Facebook Friends List.

    When I was younger, even as little as ten years ago, I judged how many friends I had by the number of people I regularly associated with and how much I felt we mutually enjoyed each other's company. Now, the Facebook phenomenon has shown me how truly paltry my understanding of the terms "friendship" and "popularity" was.

    Apparently, in this wondrous new age of ours, somebody can be your Facebook friend if they've met you once at a party or a nightclub for two minutes. Once this person has "befriended" you, they don't ever need to communicate with you in any way, shape or form - it's enough to know that the two of you are "friends".

    Here I was thinking that you actually needed to get to know someone AND that you needed to want to know more about them, or at least wanted to spend more time in their immediate company to be their friend! How sadly wrong I was.

    Facebook has told me that I am not as popular as my sister. In fact, I'm less than 1/3 as popular as she is (I must say this is actually the truth, she is annoyingly well-loved). Yet one of our mutual friends has over 1200 Facebook "friends" - easily double my sister's number.

    My self image has been shattered. My thought that perhaps I was a reasonably popular person was clearly a delusion. I have become the mad cow I once feared eating. People must have been LOL'ing at me for so long now; LOL'ing at the unpopular loser.

    I have to somehow regain my popularity and thereby, my self-esteem. What's a mad cow to do? Well, as someone much smarter than myself once said, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." In the past, I had thought only to befriend people on Facebook that I felt truly close to but I can see now how silly that was of me.

    I have to adapt to meet the needs of this popularity yardstick. From this point forward, I vow to become a Facebook Friend Slut. If I've spoken to you for long enough to know your name, consider me your friend. If I worked with you 12 years ago for a week when I did work experience, I shall poke you. If you are a foreign exchange student who went to my school in kindergarten for three days, we will rekindle our friendship. Finally, to those of you who I've heard about in passing from friends and family, I offer you my e-love.

    The only downside of all this is that I'll probably be too busy tracking down and befriending people to see my friends in real life. Ah well, it's a small price to pay for popularity.

    Tuesday, 8 July 2008

    Californication, Season One


    Fuck! I hate this show. I hate it because it is so ridiculously amazing that I have watched the first season twice through now and already want to watch it again. I hate it because as a very wannabe writer, it's achieved so much of what I'd love to accomplish.

    If you've been hiding under your rock (Go out! Stand in the sun, laugh at the petrol prices), or didn't watch the show because you were afraid of the show's "steamy" nature (Tsk tsk, we're livng in the naughties people, it's okay to watch swearing and sex on TV now), or you just plain ol' managed to miss the show because of other commitments (Your priorities are askew), here's the gist:

    Hank Moody (David Duchovny) is a best-selling novelist who hasn't written a word in years. He also missed the boat on his beautiful ex-girlfriend Karen (Natascha McElhone), who is now engaged to the slighty douchebag-y Bill (Damian Young). Hank is doing his darndest to avoid both of these issues by living to excess, sex and alcohol being the main poisons of choice. Also, despite being immensely charming, witty and intelligent, he is way, way too painfully honest for his own good. He's as subtle as a porn star's boob job and not likely to change his ways anytime soon.

    Hank and Karen's precocious twelve year old daughter, Becca (Madeleine Martin) still loves him and his best friend and agent, Charlie (Evan Handler) still puts up with his shit, but the clock is probably ticking on both of those relationships too and Hank knows it.

    Then Hank meets and is seduced by a beautiful girl (Madeline Zima) in a book store and they have punchy sex. Really punchy sex. This is a good thing because it finally gets Hank writing again. Unfortunately, the bad may outweigh the good: the girl is actually Mia, Bill's daughter. And Bill's daughter is only 16 years old.

    Duchovny won an Emmy in 2007 for his portrayal of Hank and deservedly so. I've thought he was fantastic ever since the first episode of the X-Files, so I guess I'm not a hard sell, but in my humble and absolutely non-hyperbolic opinion, he was born for this role. He portrays the character with so much depth and realism that it's difficult to remember at times that it is just a character and not that friend that almost all of us have tucked away somewhere - you know, the one you love but want to kill at the same time.

    The rest of the main cast are equally great, given the amount of screen time and characterisation they get. Each character is well-realised and unique, bringing something different and essential to the show. I can't single out any one other actor for particular praise above the others because they all put in such a solid effort.

    The writing is good. Heaps good. Gooder even than mine, for seriously. I think it all stems from the simple yet delicious concept of the show - the writing team are obviously in love with their characters and content and it shows. They combine outstanding adult humour with genuinely poignant scenes, as well as the occasional naughty moment, in just the right balance of each. Direction and cinematography are also excellent.

    So does it have any flaws? Any chinks in the armour for you to complain about so that you can pull the show down and feel superior? A few, but they're more my problems than the show's: 1) At only 28 minutes apiece, each episode is ridiculously short and always leaves you wanting so much more; 2) It's definitely adults only (not actually a problem for me at all but don't say I didn't warn you); and, 3) The first season is only 12 episodes long. ARGH!

    Thank Zeus's girdle, it's been renewed by Showtime and will be coming back for a second season.

    If you want to be challenged by a TV show, if you're looking for inspiration in your own writing, or if you just want to remind yourself why 'Big Brother' isn't real entertainment, watch this series. Better still - buy the DVDs so you can watch it repeatedly!

    I want to marry this show but, failing that, I guess I'll just have to settle for watching it again. Such is life.

    Sunday, 6 July 2008

    Baby Olivia VS Me

    Dear Baby Olivia,

    I have begun to notice a severe gap between the way we are viewed and treated by society. This is not fair. This is "discriminatory", which is a big person's word meaning "I'm annoyed that I don't have it as good as you and I'm going to complain about it."

    I won't stand for it, Baby Olivia. You may be only 6 months old but your extreme and continuous flaunting of these differences has to stop.

    You: Get to sleep all day and people think that's cute.
    Me: Sleep all day and get owned by Wife for not having done chores/contributed to society/washed, etc.

    You: Get fed whenever you cry about being hungry.
    Me: Go hungry whenever I cry about not being fed.

    You: Talk nonsensically about nothing in particular and get praised for it.
    Me: Make many pithy jokes, witty remarks and excellent puns, only to receive whithering looks of un-appreciation.

    You: Put on 1.5kg in 6 weeks and people applaud how big you are getting.
    Me: Look at an ice cream and get reminded that I really need to go to the gym a bit more.

    You: Have more hair than me already.
    Me: Shut up. I'm not doing this anymore.

    End this now, Baby Olivia. Let us have peace in our time. If not, this means war.

    I don't know how to tell you this but...

    Your fly is open.

    Well, probably not YOURS. Although it's possible. You might want to check it out anyway, just in case.

    Yesterday, I met one of the builders who is going to be working on a small job for me. He was a great guy, very friendly, chatty and most importantly, he liked the dog. You HAVE to like the dog, or you don't get the job.

    A few minutes into the visit, the builder leaned up against a wall nonchalantly and my eyes suddenly felt tugged, compelled downwards, towards the crotch region. The gaping maw of the open fly welcomed me with smiling, steely teeth. I wrenched my eyes away as soon as possible, profusely praising the inventor of underpants as I did so.

    So now I find myself in the strange position I'm sure everyone has been in at some time or another - (deep breath) I know something you don't know and I'm sure that you'd want to know but I'm not so sure that you'd want me to know.

    Is there an agreed rule of social etiquette in this kind of situation? Because some people do want to know, and they're glad you let them know you know, so that they know now. But some others say no, no thanks, I'm not happy you know and now I wish I'd known earlier.

    I think I'm in the "want to know" category. Tell me my fly is undone, please. Thank you for informing me that I have a giant glowing red zit in the centre of my forehead. I welcome the fact that you've been brave enough to inform me of the sushi roll stuck between my teeth. If you tell me, we can be a bit embarrassed but then share a hearty laugh. If you don't, it could potentially lead to embarrassment on a much larger scale, involving many more people laughing at me.

    However, I'm not so sure that I'm in the "want to tell you" category. What if you don't take it well? What if you shoot the messenger? What if you're doing this intentionally to spark a new fashion trend and I'm being so passe not knowing what you're doing? And the biggest 'What If?' of all - what happens if you do know about it but either can't do anything to fix it OR don't see it as a problem?

    I don't believe in stereotypes buuuut ... we all know builders are a notoriously angry breed of people. Bearing that in mind, I chose not to choose life. I chose not to tell my builder his fly was undone. I thought about it, I really did. Unfortunately, when I was playing the scenario out in my mind, one of the early possibilities for the scene's conclusion involved the builder asking me why I was looking at his crotch anyway and then punching me in mine.

    Did I take the coward's way out? No, I don't think so. In fact, I was actually pretty brave. I might even go so far as to say courageous. I heroically didn't say anything, despite desperately wanting to, because I was thinking of the builder. I valiantly spared him an awkward social moment, selflessly prolonging my own awkward social moment in the process.

    It turns out that sometimes not telling is the bravest thing of all.

    Thursday, 3 July 2008


    There are many important questions that mankind has grappled with since we first laid an opposable thumb on a large enough stick to be able to effectively whack another person over the head. Questions such as, 'Why are we here?', 'Is there a God?' and 'Where the fuck did that sock/pen/set of keys go, I left them here two seconds ago?!' have boggled our minds and been the source of much philosophical debate.

    Today a new question dawned on me in what I like to call "My thinking sphere" -- the shower. The question was, 'Why do I want to read/hear spoilers about TV shows and films I'm looking forward to watching?' I'm sure this is a question that has plagued many of you for some time now. Let us delve together. If you have delving pants, now is the time my friend.

    I think we can safely say that there is one group of people above all others who love the spoiler - nerds or geeks. I can safely talk about this group of people without fear of retribution for three reasons:
    1) I'm a card carrying geek myself.
    2) I'm bigger than most of the geeks or nerds that I know. (Note: I'm not implying that I'm a better fighter, just that nerds are timid by nature)
    3) In the event of a bigger, angrier nerd actually trying to fight me, I'm just fit and fast enough to run away.

    So why do nerds such as myself spend hour after hour trawling the information stupor highway for news that is going to ruin the movie/TV show/book etc that they've been looking forward to seeing for days/weeks/months? Doesn't it ruin the experience, taking away the excitement of all the twists and turns to come?

    The only way I can really answer the question is to think about myself. Over the last two weeks, I have been a veritable spoiler fiend, hunting tenaciously for any and all spoilers for the two-part Doctor Who finale ending this week. Every time I find a new piece of news, my heart flutters excitedly, reaching a crescendo of rapid beats as I digest the tasty brain morsel and then, ten seconds later, it hits. Buyer's remorse.

    I feel kind of guilty and dirty that I've potentially ruined a sublime moment of entertainment for myself. I tell myself I won't do it again. I try to do something else. But the internet is right there, it's so inviting, it calls to me, yearns for me. I am compelled to look again. It's exactly the same problem I have with chocolate. So.... tasty.... can't stop eating...

    How can I keep doing it to myself? Why do I keep doing it? Here's what I've come up with:
    • I have a somewhat obsessive personality. If I find something I'm interested in, I want to know everything about it.
    • I like to complete what I start. No matter how bad a movie/book/TV show was, if I start it, I like to see it through to the end. I watched every episode of the new 'Bionic Woman' TV series for that very reason, so that should be a pretty good indication of my dedication to completeness.
    • I like to feel like a pop culture detective. I try to put together all of the pieces and finish the puzzle before I watch the show so that I can say, 'Ha! I KNEW that was going to happen!' These moments make me feel happy and happiness is good for you. (Yes, I am one of those annoying people who figures out the twist before you do and then gives you a knowingly wry yet piteous smile as you figure it out a few seconds after me)
    • I like to feel superior sometimes. There, I said it. I'll admit it. You should too, it'll make you feel better.

    At a guess, I'd say that most spoiler hounds pursue spoilers for any or all of the reasons above. In this crazy, messed up world in which we live, it's nice for the average nerdling to know something that others don't and who among us can fault them for it? Not I. I'm not about the judging (remember?)!

    A blog about spoilers wouldn't be complete without actually including spoilers of some kind. So here you go, the top five film moments* that would absolutely suck to have spoiled for you:
    5) The chick in 'The Crying Game' is actually a dude.
    4) The chick in 'Ace Ventura' is actually a dude. But luckily not in real life, because I found Sean Penn to be hot.
    3) 'Vanilla Sky' was aaaaall just a dream.
    2) Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father.
    1) Bruce Willis is a ghost, you know the movie. Suck it if you haven't watched it yet.

    If I've just ruined any of these movies for you, I don't apologise. In fact, YOU should apologise to me. Your lack of trivial knowledge offends me. Stop wasting time and go immediately and begin living your life - watch these movies back to back, preferably with a large bucket of popcorn at your side.

    *Disclaimer: Okay, so this isn't a definitive list but it's pretty damn good for one I knocked up off the top of my head in under five minutes.

    Being (Ironically) Awesome is Awesome

    NRL. Football. The Game of Champions. Gladiatorial Warfare. Where men are men and women are spectators. Nothing excites me more than NRL and football season is truly a time of wonder and joy in my life. The fights, the tights, the kicks and chips and above all, thirty really big, sweaty men hugging and humping each other in an effort to touch each other's balls (sorry, too obvious I know, but I just couldn't resist!).

    Oh wait, no I don't. Do I? Let me give it some more thought. Nope...... definitely not, as it turns out. I realise that stocks in my masculinity are going to plummet after saying this, but I really get nothing out of watching an NRL game. I won't say I've NEVER found one exciting but as a general rule, I tend to find the games a bit repetitive and dull.

    So why, then, am I doin' the blog thang and talking about NRL? Well, it's like this: The majority of (male) teachers at my school love a bit of footy and set up a Footy tipping competition for this season. I was asked to join and thought that I'd better, being the uber masculine, Rambo-esque, gun-totin', car-lovin', boobs man that I am.

    When the MEN come to school on Monday and engage me in post-game match analysis, I stare blankly at them and nod, laugh and mutter generic words of agreement and platitude (as required). I just don't have the heart to tell them that I have no idea what they're talking about. I hardly know what the positions are, let alone how many tries Diesel Tightpants scored in the second half. Oh, that's a great name. File that away for later!

    The reason I don't have the heart to break this news to my fellow tipsters is because I am, as it turns out, ironically awesome at football tipping. Against all reason and probability, I am currently sitting in 2nd place in the tipping competition, one off the lead. Word on the street is that I may just take it home. They ask me how I pick my winners. I change the subject. Should I tell them that I use divination? That I read the entrails of small birds, soothsayer style? Witchcraft? The power of prophecy? Dumb luck?

    I'm not sure that any of those responses would make the boys particularly happy. So it will have to be our little secret for the time being.

    The real irony is that if I actually cared about NRL or winning the competition at all, I probably wouldn't be doing half as well as I am. It's awesome to be (ironically) awesome at footy tipping.