Its funny how coincidences happen. Whats odd is when you don't even realize it was a coincidence until you start blogging about it. [Sentences completed in Second Person]
I watched two movies this weekend, of which are easily two of the best movies Ive seen this year. And both wholely and completely unexpected. [Sentence completed in First Person]
I say this because it is not often you watch a movie that completely surprises you, and then makes you wholeheartedly laugh and also cry, rather unapologetically. Movies are typically excellent when this happens, for the reason it allows you to do two things that most people should aspire to do everyday; laugh in wit, and be touched enough in emotion to cry. If you do those two things in a day, thats a good day, a very good day. [Paragraph blending First Person and Second Person. And Im done] Now the coincidence is that it happened on back to back viewed movies, and both filmed in Belgium. Belgium, the home of Smurfs and little boy pissing fountains.
Number one was In Bruge. Movie ii, JCVD.
In Bruge has been out for a while now, especially celebrated around these parts because its pretty much an Irish movie. It took me a while to get around to it, it was on the long finger. Definitely long enough to suppress and forget the 3rd hand talk of how different and clever it was. And for that Im glad I waited, because I got to experience the movie completely fresh and without expectation. And I now completely agree, it turned out to be a craftily written, somewhat dark ganster movie and very Funny. Some of the funniest lines of dialogue Ive heard all year. So far, when it comes to Colin Farrell movies anyways, you now know theres a pretty good chance itll be good, if hes speaking in his own accent.
Now JCVD, which if you havent heard of it yet, stands for Jean Claude Van Damme. Completely original and brave, the film is a parody of himself, and satire on his life. Who would of thought? Directed by some French guy, the dialogue is also primarily in French. And this is the most surprising thing that Ive experienced in years: Jean Claude Van Damme is a exceptional actor... when he is acting in his native tongue: Belgian accented French. And Im dead serious. In this movie he pretty much talks to the viewer and apologizes for his hollywood career and being a screw up outside of it. An unbelievably humbling step for a macho martial arts star of action movies. In a nutshell he tries to underline on of the truest and most deeply personal aphorisms: You are your own worst enemy. You really feel for Jean Claude in this film, but its still funny enough in bits to make you laugh out loud. Personally Im really happy the movie was ever thought of and made to begin with; its been a really long time since Jean Claude Van Damme has been in a good movie. You know, the last one was probably Street Fighter. :D
This is for Wayne: The best motivational speech in cinemagraphic history: ".. we can all go home. Meanwhile, ideals like these - freedom, and justice - they get packed up. But... we can all go home. Well... I'm not going home. I'm gonna get on my boat, and I'm going up-river, and I'm going to kick that son-of-a-bitch Bison's ass so HARD... that the next Bison wanna-be is gonna feel it. Now who wants to go home... and who wants to go with ME! "
YAAAAAEEAAH!! Lets goo! haahahahahha
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Twitter Dee, Twitter Dum
Im on Twitter now. www.twitter.com/nolisirish. Check it out. Ill be much more consistent and frequent over there... since its so much easier and informal to deal with, I can quickly text and just concentrate on the more immediate, day to day, hour to hour, mundane stuff.. you know kinda like "Going to the shop to pick up some brown sugar" or "At the Champ-Elysees just buying some gum" or "Colin Farrell just dropped by with the Corrs. Andrea the hot one. Bastards always drink all my beer though" or "I just finished laying a big duece that plugged my toilet". Now that last one, that was for real... do you have any idea how hard it is to unplug a toilet when you only have one good leg and you dont have a plunger?... Trast me... not fun.
Also I have started the cheesy word and quote of the day thing going that I will try to keep up. But Ill try not to be pretentious, more urban irrelevant..
Manny got me into it, through Chris Bosh. And Shaq. Now I feel like EDtv. Soon Ill be hosting a 24/7 videolink on Justin.tv.
HAAAA! Yeah right...
Also I have started the cheesy word and quote of the day thing going that I will try to keep up. But Ill try not to be pretentious, more urban irrelevant..
Manny got me into it, through Chris Bosh. And Shaq. Now I feel like EDtv. Soon Ill be hosting a 24/7 videolink on Justin.tv.
HAAAA! Yeah right...
Monday, December 08, 2008
Mexicutioner
Funny Highlights from the Manny Pacquiao fight:
-Fight aside, never have i seen so many old filipinos with dyed black hair celebrating in the ring like they won themselves. Dyed black hair, with brylcreem.. hahaha... Because they dont want to show grey. SOOOO filipino. Thats like my tito cesar, up until the last few years when he gave up to it.
- Have no idea what the frack bernard hopkins was so intimately there for. Like from the weigh-in all the way to the after fight interviews, hopkins was within 2 inches of oscar all the time. Hounding around, muggin his face. Sure hes partners in business and all, but what the? comeon.
- In the corner, Freddie Roach would say instructions to Manny, and then the 'Cousin Boy' in the corner, would translate.. but completely wrong.. hahahaha.. Freddie Roach would be all like "keep it in the center of the ring, once you back touches the ropes, step to the side and get out. Keep it in the center. keep turning him" - Cousin boy is in then translates it like this "Move your head side to side, in and out, go in punch then out.. in and out" Ahh cousin boy... you are the worst translator of all time... Good thing Manny understands english anyways..
- I wore my authentic Nike Team Pacquiao shirt all weekend. Kinda needs a washing now.
- I know this for a fact... the Vegas after fight party at Mannys hotel, had pansit, lechon baboy (pig on a spit, with apple in the mouth) and lumpia shanghai. Maybe balut. "You go por Pree"
- Humble Manny. "to all da pilipino who lub da baxing, tank you berrry muts"
-Fight aside, never have i seen so many old filipinos with dyed black hair celebrating in the ring like they won themselves. Dyed black hair, with brylcreem.. hahaha... Because they dont want to show grey. SOOOO filipino. Thats like my tito cesar, up until the last few years when he gave up to it.
- Have no idea what the frack bernard hopkins was so intimately there for. Like from the weigh-in all the way to the after fight interviews, hopkins was within 2 inches of oscar all the time. Hounding around, muggin his face. Sure hes partners in business and all, but what the? comeon.
- In the corner, Freddie Roach would say instructions to Manny, and then the 'Cousin Boy' in the corner, would translate.. but completely wrong.. hahahaha.. Freddie Roach would be all like "keep it in the center of the ring, once you back touches the ropes, step to the side and get out. Keep it in the center. keep turning him" - Cousin boy is in then translates it like this "Move your head side to side, in and out, go in punch then out.. in and out" Ahh cousin boy... you are the worst translator of all time... Good thing Manny understands english anyways..
- I wore my authentic Nike Team Pacquiao shirt all weekend. Kinda needs a washing now.
- I know this for a fact... the Vegas after fight party at Mannys hotel, had pansit, lechon baboy (pig on a spit, with apple in the mouth) and lumpia shanghai. Maybe balut. "You go por Pree"
- Humble Manny. "to all da pilipino who lub da baxing, tank you berrry muts"
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
"hes an A$$h0L3"
Im conflicted, but I might have to give props to the 'shithead on a stick' Sean Avery... but I dont really actually want to.
He may have pulled off the ultimate revenge burn while at THE EXACT SAME TIME renew his official licence for the title of 'King of all Douchebags' . Hows that even possible? Are jerk wads of the Avery mold even allowed to revenge burn? Its not like JT on Britney with his "Cry Me a River". The general public felt for JT, he was done wrong by trailer park trash with lipstick, so we had his back. Avery though is the exact opposite, I can probably find a Romanian Gypsy or two that are more popular.
For a little background to those out of step on the NHL, Sean Avery plays for the Dallas Stars and is the most hated player in Hockey, a Wanker of the highest order. He gained this status being cheap and irritating and annoying, just being his wanker self, actually, on the ice and in front of the media mic and cameras. Despite this, somehow, through magical trickery, he scored Elisha Cuthbert a while back, the gorgeous girl from 24. But she dumped his ass.
Here now read this article from ESPN
I dont know. I laughed at the move. But man... what a dumbass.
He may have pulled off the ultimate revenge burn while at THE EXACT SAME TIME renew his official licence for the title of 'King of all Douchebags' . Hows that even possible? Are jerk wads of the Avery mold even allowed to revenge burn? Its not like JT on Britney with his "Cry Me a River". The general public felt for JT, he was done wrong by trailer park trash with lipstick, so we had his back. Avery though is the exact opposite, I can probably find a Romanian Gypsy or two that are more popular.
For a little background to those out of step on the NHL, Sean Avery plays for the Dallas Stars and is the most hated player in Hockey, a Wanker of the highest order. He gained this status being cheap and irritating and annoying, just being his wanker self, actually, on the ice and in front of the media mic and cameras. Despite this, somehow, through magical trickery, he scored Elisha Cuthbert a while back, the gorgeous girl from 24. But she dumped his ass.
Here now read this article from ESPN
I dont know. I laughed at the move. But man... what a dumbass.
Monday, December 01, 2008
The trials of a cripple
Okay! Lets start a new Post...
Its Dec. 1st y'all. Most people by now might know i am crippled with a severely sprained ankle (Out 5 weeks with a hard cast: grade 2 or 3 spraining: meaning ligament tearing, potentially complete tear. Immobilization time required for ligaments to repair and heal at the correct length).
What this means is that I am now working from home, recommended by the Drogheda Lady of Lourdes Hospital that I do not go to work. I cant walk, and I cant drive. Im completely useless and hopeless. Im about 2 weeks into it with 3 weeks to go. And seriously I am cracking up, going bonkers... coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Lets start from the beginning first: I broke it almost 2.5 weeks ago, playing soccer, I was going in on goal, breakaway situation, tried to get around the goalie's left, he went for my legs, I jumped at an angle, and then landed, but very badly. At least in my final motion, I still scored the goal (Feckin Rights I scored). I didnt really break it though, as I have mentioned above, only the first doctor I saw suspected it might be slightly fractured, but it sounds better when I say it that way, and to be fair, 5.5 weeks is a very long time to have a disability due to sprain, which first of all questions the abilities or methods of these Irish doctors. 6 weeks is the healing time for a real fracture, for crying out loud.
So what is it like being completely useless and hopeless for weeks upon weeks?
Well for one, its a daily battle to keep my feet from smelling like bad French Cheese. When you have a cast on your foot and lower leg, its not allowed to get wet. Getting wet is a bad idea. Only problem is that feet sweat. Like ALOT. You know how youre feet start feeling unbearably grime after being forced to wear the same socks for two days in a row? Well I can say with no pride, that it feels like Ive been wearing the same sock for 2.5 weeks now. Its disgusting. Imagine what it will be like 2-3 weeks from now: Mushrooms could be growing in there, for all I know. The best I can do is carefully wash my toes with a warm towel, so at least the webbing of my toes are April Fresh. Even still, I cant wait to get this bastard of a thing off.
Not being allowed to get the cast wet also poses another daily (but now slowly waning to bi-daily ) obstacle: washing myself. I made the typical rookie mistake of thinking I could wrap my cast in plastic bags and then shower with the 'one leg in, one leg out' technique. This was very awkward though, converting a normally soothing activity into a strenuous one. Nobody wins here. After trying that out for a few days, I felt for the sake of the environment Id go to the bath route (Im saving in wasted plastic bags to cover my cast). And this was very good direction to go in. by propping my damaged foot on bath wall and letting it hang, there is no cause for discomfort. Its win win. The only downside is the perperation required.. but then again Im at home all the time, so no big deal.
Food is another challenge, because I might as well have the same challenges of an agrophobic (fear of outside, open spaces). Meaning Im stuck inside my place and cant move. Again I cant drive, and I can only last 10-20 mins on my crutches, so Im completely dependent on delivery. I got some sympathy in the first few weeks, with people visiting and giving me rides and dropping off food. People tend to forget you though after a week. Im a victim of media's 24 hour cycle and short attention spans. Hardly anyone visits anymore and so Im now forced to ration. Order chinese one day, Pizza another, and then maybe Indian the next. Hopefully someone will take me to groceries soon, because If I havent told you already, Ill tell you again, take out food is completely substandard in Ireland. But Beggers cant choose. As a kid I thought itd always be cool to get a cast. As an adult, its complete ass.
One final thing ( and please forgive me for being politically in-expedient for a second, but its true so Im saying it), Ireland for some reason only has the retard-kind of crutches, and nothing else. By retard-kind I mean like the ones Timmy uses in South Park, or the kids in Jerrys telethons; those elbow prop up metal kinds, where it hooks around your forearm, and it looks like I should be wearing a helmet. Unbelievable, these things are awkward as feck, Id take the good ol North American armpit crutches any day. I wonder if its because the Irish Nation Medical board thinks they are saving money by going this route... along with the stereotype image I have, as Jil would say, ...its bullshit.
Happy December everyone!
Its Dec. 1st y'all. Most people by now might know i am crippled with a severely sprained ankle (Out 5 weeks with a hard cast: grade 2 or 3 spraining: meaning ligament tearing, potentially complete tear. Immobilization time required for ligaments to repair and heal at the correct length).
What this means is that I am now working from home, recommended by the Drogheda Lady of Lourdes Hospital that I do not go to work. I cant walk, and I cant drive. Im completely useless and hopeless. Im about 2 weeks into it with 3 weeks to go. And seriously I am cracking up, going bonkers... coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Lets start from the beginning first: I broke it almost 2.5 weeks ago, playing soccer, I was going in on goal, breakaway situation, tried to get around the goalie's left, he went for my legs, I jumped at an angle, and then landed, but very badly. At least in my final motion, I still scored the goal (Feckin Rights I scored). I didnt really break it though, as I have mentioned above, only the first doctor I saw suspected it might be slightly fractured, but it sounds better when I say it that way, and to be fair, 5.5 weeks is a very long time to have a disability due to sprain, which first of all questions the abilities or methods of these Irish doctors. 6 weeks is the healing time for a real fracture, for crying out loud.
So what is it like being completely useless and hopeless for weeks upon weeks?
Well for one, its a daily battle to keep my feet from smelling like bad French Cheese. When you have a cast on your foot and lower leg, its not allowed to get wet. Getting wet is a bad idea. Only problem is that feet sweat. Like ALOT. You know how youre feet start feeling unbearably grime after being forced to wear the same socks for two days in a row? Well I can say with no pride, that it feels like Ive been wearing the same sock for 2.5 weeks now. Its disgusting. Imagine what it will be like 2-3 weeks from now: Mushrooms could be growing in there, for all I know. The best I can do is carefully wash my toes with a warm towel, so at least the webbing of my toes are April Fresh. Even still, I cant wait to get this bastard of a thing off.
Not being allowed to get the cast wet also poses another daily (but now slowly waning to bi-daily ) obstacle: washing myself. I made the typical rookie mistake of thinking I could wrap my cast in plastic bags and then shower with the 'one leg in, one leg out' technique. This was very awkward though, converting a normally soothing activity into a strenuous one. Nobody wins here. After trying that out for a few days, I felt for the sake of the environment Id go to the bath route (Im saving in wasted plastic bags to cover my cast). And this was very good direction to go in. by propping my damaged foot on bath wall and letting it hang, there is no cause for discomfort. Its win win. The only downside is the perperation required.. but then again Im at home all the time, so no big deal.
Food is another challenge, because I might as well have the same challenges of an agrophobic (fear of outside, open spaces). Meaning Im stuck inside my place and cant move. Again I cant drive, and I can only last 10-20 mins on my crutches, so Im completely dependent on delivery. I got some sympathy in the first few weeks, with people visiting and giving me rides and dropping off food. People tend to forget you though after a week. Im a victim of media's 24 hour cycle and short attention spans. Hardly anyone visits anymore and so Im now forced to ration. Order chinese one day, Pizza another, and then maybe Indian the next. Hopefully someone will take me to groceries soon, because If I havent told you already, Ill tell you again, take out food is completely substandard in Ireland. But Beggers cant choose. As a kid I thought itd always be cool to get a cast. As an adult, its complete ass.
One final thing ( and please forgive me for being politically in-expedient for a second, but its true so Im saying it), Ireland for some reason only has the retard-kind of crutches, and nothing else. By retard-kind I mean like the ones Timmy uses in South Park, or the kids in Jerrys telethons; those elbow prop up metal kinds, where it hooks around your forearm, and it looks like I should be wearing a helmet. Unbelievable, these things are awkward as feck, Id take the good ol North American armpit crutches any day. I wonder if its because the Irish Nation Medical board thinks they are saving money by going this route... along with the stereotype image I have, as Jil would say, ...its bullshit.
Happy December everyone!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
How to judge objectively..
I think I am pretty unique in the way I judge people. Most of us use looks, character, manners, a persons language, their temper, their attentiveness and of course most importantly a person's fashion sense. I use most of those too. But I actually add a few more that are more specific and off the beaten path, the road least travelled, if you will. This is just me though. These are deeply personal. :D
-Before we start, people have to agree that Brenda, Dylan, Kelly, Steve, Brandon, Andrea and Donna comprised the greatest cast ensemble in the complete unabridged records of Television. If you think Im missing someone, Im not, because that guy was a tool. He doesnt even deserve that name. He should be called Bronze. or Copper.
-I judge people based on their chopstick skills. I do. If you cant use chopsticks, sorry there is something about you to be left wanting. Full stop. Or you better have a bulletproof, water tight, goretex excuse like "you have no hands" or "you are mentally handicapped" or "you're country bred Irish". And for those who are, lets say, 'unconventional' or 'unorthodox' in their chopsticking (the cross chicken technique, and the low bridge hold technique, etc.), for example like a certain 'P to the Ham', well lets just say you are walking a razors edge...
- I judge also by one of the most polarizing topics in Pop Culture. MJ. Michael Jackson. Thriller has to be respected as the best album ever produced in the history of forever. There is no compromising on this. I dont care what he looks like now, he has Peter Pan disease and Vitelago skin botches, so he gets a pass. And even Cho, my Prince worshiping childhood friend will have to nod his head in quiet approval.
- Unattached earlobe? okay. Attached earlobe? Disgusting...
- If you were a fan of the Bulls during the late 80s and early 90s, a Cowboys fan during the 90s, then Im not sure I want to be your friend. Because this would mean you are a complete Poser. Or a Pana, whatever. Unfortunately two of my best friends fall into this category. Moreover, to add insult to injury, they are Yankees fans too. Unbelievable what i put up with sometimes for the sake of best friends. (80s Oilers fans, and 80s-90s 49ers fans are okay though. I like those teams thats why)
- Uggs. If you wear Uggs outside of the confines of your home (for other than feet warming abilities)? Im sorry but its quite possible youre on the rickety path to Stephon Marbury levels of douchbaginess, in my books, and that is not a good thing. Uggs ( and the close cousin, the rubber rain boots with fancy print) are 2000s version of Disco one piece suits with butterfly collar. Like seriously, I bet sometimes people in the higher echelons of fashion sometimes have ' I dare you' bets for the laugh, and then awkwardly are visaibly uncomfortable when they create a uncontrollabe monster trend with the sheep followers of no soul society. Fluorescent tops? Acid wash jeans? Piano key Ties? Mens Leather pants? Crocs? Chicks with jeans to the belly button? Everyone knows how retarded they look now. Im just sayin...
-
-Before we start, people have to agree that Brenda, Dylan, Kelly, Steve, Brandon, Andrea and Donna comprised the greatest cast ensemble in the complete unabridged records of Television. If you think Im missing someone, Im not, because that guy was a tool. He doesnt even deserve that name. He should be called Bronze. or Copper.
-I judge people based on their chopstick skills. I do. If you cant use chopsticks, sorry there is something about you to be left wanting. Full stop. Or you better have a bulletproof, water tight, goretex excuse like "you have no hands" or "you are mentally handicapped" or "you're country bred Irish". And for those who are, lets say, 'unconventional' or 'unorthodox' in their chopsticking (the cross chicken technique, and the low bridge hold technique, etc.), for example like a certain 'P to the Ham', well lets just say you are walking a razors edge...
- I judge also by one of the most polarizing topics in Pop Culture. MJ. Michael Jackson. Thriller has to be respected as the best album ever produced in the history of forever. There is no compromising on this. I dont care what he looks like now, he has Peter Pan disease and Vitelago skin botches, so he gets a pass. And even Cho, my Prince worshiping childhood friend will have to nod his head in quiet approval.
- Unattached earlobe? okay. Attached earlobe? Disgusting...
- If you were a fan of the Bulls during the late 80s and early 90s, a Cowboys fan during the 90s, then Im not sure I want to be your friend. Because this would mean you are a complete Poser. Or a Pana, whatever. Unfortunately two of my best friends fall into this category. Moreover, to add insult to injury, they are Yankees fans too. Unbelievable what i put up with sometimes for the sake of best friends. (80s Oilers fans, and 80s-90s 49ers fans are okay though. I like those teams thats why)
- Uggs. If you wear Uggs outside of the confines of your home (for other than feet warming abilities)? Im sorry but its quite possible youre on the rickety path to Stephon Marbury levels of douchbaginess, in my books, and that is not a good thing. Uggs ( and the close cousin, the rubber rain boots with fancy print) are 2000s version of Disco one piece suits with butterfly collar. Like seriously, I bet sometimes people in the higher echelons of fashion sometimes have ' I dare you' bets for the laugh, and then awkwardly are visaibly uncomfortable when they create a uncontrollabe monster trend with the sheep followers of no soul society. Fluorescent tops? Acid wash jeans? Piano key Ties? Mens Leather pants? Crocs? Chicks with jeans to the belly button? Everyone knows how retarded they look now. Im just sayin...
-
Saturday, November 08, 2008
"Yo... where the white women at?"
That would be the answer to the question: What does Barack Obama aks when he enters a room from now on?
4 years ago I posted how personally devastated I was after the last election, however illogical that may sound since Im not even American, and how it actually dominated my dreams the night of before waking up to find out the results. This time around, happily it was the exact opposite. Now bring on the "Sarah Palin is so dumb... " jokes.
"Sarah Palin is soooo dumb, she thought the capital of China was Chinatown.." (Thank you Daily Show for that one. I spit up my drink seriously) God love her.
Also loving the fact that the new chief of staff is Entourage's Ari Gold's brother. Like for real. For the past 2 months I have been absolutely ADDICTED to the online election coverage. Id get home, and first Id check out the previous nites Daily Show episode. Then I would move on to CNN and check out there video collection. Then I would move on to MSNBC and check out the videos from Morning Joe, Hardball, Countdown and Rachel Meadows. And somewhere in between, Id eat, if I remember. This went on every day since I arrived back into Ireland in September. Mad. (Mad as in crazy, not Mad as in angry. Im Irish now, obviously). In between I didnt even realize that Canada had an election somewhere in between. No one even told me. However I did know exactly what Nailin Palin was doin every minute of every hour. Then in the morning, we would discuss these events with Irish lads over coffee break, highlighting how far reaching this event has become. On the weekend then, I watch the latest Real Time with Bill Maher episode from Friday night. In some ways its was a pleasant routine. No idea what Im going to do now... write on my blog maybe.. nahhhhhhhh..
4 years ago I posted how personally devastated I was after the last election, however illogical that may sound since Im not even American, and how it actually dominated my dreams the night of before waking up to find out the results. This time around, happily it was the exact opposite. Now bring on the "Sarah Palin is so dumb... " jokes.
"Sarah Palin is soooo dumb, she thought the capital of China was Chinatown.." (Thank you Daily Show for that one. I spit up my drink seriously) God love her.
Also loving the fact that the new chief of staff is Entourage's Ari Gold's brother. Like for real. For the past 2 months I have been absolutely ADDICTED to the online election coverage. Id get home, and first Id check out the previous nites Daily Show episode. Then I would move on to CNN and check out there video collection. Then I would move on to MSNBC and check out the videos from Morning Joe, Hardball, Countdown and Rachel Meadows. And somewhere in between, Id eat, if I remember. This went on every day since I arrived back into Ireland in September. Mad. (Mad as in crazy, not Mad as in angry. Im Irish now, obviously). In between I didnt even realize that Canada had an election somewhere in between. No one even told me. However I did know exactly what Nailin Palin was doin every minute of every hour. Then in the morning, we would discuss these events with Irish lads over coffee break, highlighting how far reaching this event has become. On the weekend then, I watch the latest Real Time with Bill Maher episode from Friday night. In some ways its was a pleasant routine. No idea what Im going to do now... write on my blog maybe.. nahhhhhhhh..
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