I watched it whilst drinking this J
Robots = AWESOME
Film = BAD
I saw the Manchurian Candidate last night. The new version. It was good to see an intelligent American thriller for once.
Although it taught me that I have NO idea how the US political system works.
1. People slowing down to 20mph when going past a speed camera on a 30mph road.
2. People going down motorway slip roads at 50mph.
3. The traffic light sequencing on the road into Cheltenham by the new cinema.
That is all.
Ian Sansom always lists acknowledgements at the end of his novels and they go on for some pages and, actually, they’re one of my favourite things about his books. I realise that doesn’t say a lot about his writing but he’s good, really, I promise.
Anyway, in that spirit, I would like to thank the following people for the good bits of 2007:
Adam Dyer, Adele Adkins, Alain de Botton, Alexander Gordon, Ally Wickstead, Anna Pickard, Annie Mac, Belle de Jour, Beth Ditto, Billie Piper, Carl Linsdell, Dakota Blue Richards, Danny Dyer, David Dimbleby, David Miliband MP, Douglas Coupland, Douglas Murray, Emily Haines, Jacqui Mckeown, James Mckeown, James Sutton, JK Rowling, Joey Corneau, Jon Stewart, Julie Myerson, Kate Nash, Keith Murray, Kele Okereke, Kevin Bishop, Laura Hopkins, Mark Zuckerberg, Martin Bacon, Milo Ventimiglia, Natasha Khan, Omar Chotoye, Paul Smith, Pauline Dumville, Peter MacNicol, Randall Munroe, Randy Jackson, Rob Green, Scott Grimes, Serena Carmichael, Simon Mayo & Mark Kermode, Steve Jobs, Steven Lowculture, The Future Mr. Springer, The Gin Lovelies, The PERU Lovelies, The Trophy Twins, Tim Smit, Vince Nadin, Keith Burkill, Wendy Burkill, Zane Lowe
(Ian Sansom includes the following rules, which apply here also: “some of them are dead; most of them are strangers; the famous are not friends; none of them bears any responsibility”) – also, I have no idea where the full stop goes there. Any help Omar or Rob?!
So on Friday, Jane, Vic and I travelled up to the Jamhouse in Birmingham for Jane’s uni friend’s birthday. It’s an awesome venue – great music, friendly clientele – although a little pricey. That said, I would recommend drinking considerably less than I did. That way you’ll save yourself a lot of money and you won’t be so hungover the next day that you don’t make it to the sold-out Portishead gig (I am still so, so gutted – sorry Rob…).
Anyway, this blog entry had a point… About an hour or so into the night, this guy walked passed me who I recognised. We stared at each other for a while and then carried on dancing and I forgot all about it. Until later in the evening – after a good few (expensive) black sambucas – I bumped into him again. Only this time I was drunk enough to slur “do I know you from somewhere?!” He agreed he recognised me too and after a bit it hit me. We took A Level German together at sixth form college in Hampshire seven years ago.
He was one of the really cool kids at college; I guess he’d be a jock if we were in some American high school movie. And, well, I definitely wasn’t cool. At all. I had purple hair and a nose ring and I wore DMs with fishnets and listened to weird music. He and I didn’t really ever talk (well, not in English anyway). But he seemed genuinely pleased to see me on Friday which I found really strange. In fact, he was *really* pleased to see me. To the point that he was kind of gushing. So I made the point that he would never have spoken to me this much in sixth form. And he replied, “no, because you were so cool, I was completely in awe of you. I always looked at you and wished I had the guts to be different.”
Well, that kind of had me stumped. Maybe it was the fact that he was drunk as me and he didn’t really mean it but I feel kind of smug anyway. I just wish I’d known that seven years ago…
Quite some time ago, Omar pondered on things girls do that make them more fanciable. In the interests of equality, I’m going to do the same. But for boys, obviously. Feel free to make additions (although I’m fairly sure most of the people that read my blog are boys – still, feel free boys).
Things that make boys more fanciable:
Wear knitwear – skinny cardigans in particular – and thick rimmed glasses (think urban designer – mmmm).
Bite their nails.
Be geeky – it doesn’t matter what they’re geeky about: maths, film, planes, the internet, music. It’s the obsession and passion that counts.
Not put *too* much gunk in their hair – I like it fluffy.
There are probably more things.
Of course, all of my dear fiancé’s lovely qualities are also eminently fanciable…