You Remind Me Of the Babe....

Warning! Possible rant ahead!

( The Babe With The Power.... )

I cannot believe that David Beckham getting hit in the face with a football boot kicked by Sir Alex 'Arrogant Scots Bastard' Ferguson is front page news today. This country has an incredibly unhealthy obsession with Goldenballs. His hair is looking good lately. Watched the Man U- Juventus game earlier. Couldn't see the stitches hardly at all, but the hair was good. I still can't believe England lost to Australia (Stop smirking *now* Dan!). I mean, cricket I understand. I can even understand Quinten Hann coming here and smashing the pack in snooker. I can understand tennis, even. But football was meant to be the thing we were better at. Not better than Italy or Brazil, or even Germany (*cough* except 5-1 in Munich.*cough*). But better than Australia, surely? Sven, please! Sort it aht, as the Eastenders would say. At this rate, the only thing we'll be able to beat them at is darts and conkers.

Ah, today was productive. The two hour film seminar turned into twenty minutes because we've got projects to do and he just started us up on it. Any ideas as to a 4,500 word American Film project based somehow in the 1940s? Anyone?

Got a review of an old Buffy story over at FF.net from someone basically trying to get members for an Anti-B/S (that's Buffy/Spike not Bullshit, although I could understand your confusion) group. Basically, they've taken this story as a great example of anti-B/S. Weird, because there's there's good vibes between the two of them, although she's temporarily her four year old self and gets sent to Angel for protection... I don't know. I'm not into ship-bashing whatever the fandom, so I'll just maintain a dignified silence. Ship-bashing just makes it all not fun for me.

The Princess arrives back in Lancaster tomorrow with the US Marine Corps. Or one of them. We'll get our Hollywood essays back tomorrow. Usually I couldn't care less what I get, but I wrote about Errol Flynn and I want to have done my grinning, swashbuckling swordsman hero proud. Speaking of, actually, I spent nearly fifty quid yesterday buying photos on the internet. I got an Errol (to replace the one that got covered in Diet Coke. Long story), an older-yet-still-beautiful Errol, a Rita Hayworth (in colour to show off red hair), Joan Crawford in the thirties (before shoulderpads and bad make up), a Gene Kelly-as-sailor/dancer, a Frank Sinatra-as-sailor/singer to match, and a Marlene Dietrich, another Ava Gardner, a Robert Plant, a Thin Lizzy and a Gangs of New York poster. I'm such a movie geek, man.

Right, I'm just going to stop right now because I'm boring you all, because it's ten past one in the morning (Although Noisy Git downstairs doesn't seem to have noticed) and because I was meant to start my dissertation five hours ago.

You Remind Me Of the Babe....

Warning! Possible rant ahead!

( The Babe With The Power.... )

I cannot believe that David Beckham getting hit in the face with a football boot kicked by Sir Alex 'Arrogant Scots Bastard' Ferguson is front page news today. This country has an incredibly unhealthy obsession with Goldenballs. His hair is looking good lately. Watched the Man U- Juventus game earlier. Couldn't see the stitches hardly at all, but the hair was good. I still can't believe England lost to Australia (Stop smirking *now* Dan!). I mean, cricket I understand. I can even understand Quinten Hann coming here and smashing the pack in snooker. I can understand tennis, even. But football was meant to be the thing we were better at. Not better than Italy or Brazil, or even Germany (*cough* except 5-1 in Munich.*cough*). But better than Australia, surely? Sven, please! Sort it aht, as the Eastenders would say. At this rate, the only thing we'll be able to beat them at is darts and conkers.

Ah, today was productive. The two hour film seminar turned into twenty minutes because we've got projects to do and he just started us up on it. Any ideas as to a 4,500 word American Film project based somehow in the 1940s? Anyone?

Got a review of an old Buffy story over at FF.net from someone basically trying to get members for an Anti-B/S (that's Buffy/Spike not Bullshit, although I could understand your confusion) group. Basically, they've taken this story as a great example of anti-B/S. Weird, because there's there's good vibes between the two of them, although she's temporarily her four year old self and gets sent to Angel for protection... I don't know. I'm not into ship-bashing whatever the fandom, so I'll just maintain a dignified silence. Ship-bashing just makes it all not fun for me.

The Princess arrives back in Lancaster tomorrow with the US Marine Corps. Or one of them. We'll get our Hollywood essays back tomorrow. Usually I couldn't care less what I get, but I wrote about Errol Flynn and I want to have done my grinning, swashbuckling swordsman hero proud. Speaking of, actually, I spent nearly fifty quid yesterday buying photos on the internet. I got an Errol (to replace the one that got covered in Diet Coke. Long story), an older-yet-still-beautiful Errol, a Rita Hayworth (in colour to show off red hair), Joan Crawford in the thirties (before shoulderpads and bad make up), a Gene Kelly-as-sailor/dancer, a Frank Sinatra-as-sailor/singer to match, and a Marlene Dietrich, another Ava Gardner, a Robert Plant, a Thin Lizzy and a Gangs of New York poster. I'm such a movie geek, man.

Right, I'm just going to stop right now because I'm boring you all, because it's ten past one in the morning (Although Noisy Git downstairs doesn't seem to have noticed) and because I was meant to start my dissertation five hours ago.

Loz Birthday!

Don't have much time- have Politics essay to do for tomorrow, but:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOZ!

Loz Birthday!

Don't have much time- have Politics essay to do for tomorrow, but:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOZ!

Politics Sucks.

I have a Politics (US Foreign Policy Since 1945) essay due in tomorrow. Started it five minutes ago. Have (of the end 2,500 words) 100 words. It's about Nixon, Kissinger, Detente, the emergence of Soviet power and I couldn't care less if it also involved Russell Crowe.

I did start annotating a book yesterday all about Jim Morrison, so I have now officially started my dissertation. I have a plan for it, too.

The Princess and the Marine are back, which is very cool. He was a little overwhelmed at meeting all these new people that are her friends, so I think he was relieved when I turned up- a familiar face.

Got 65 out of 100 for my Hollywood paper. Didn't disgrace myself or Errol, so that's good. I think that counts as a 2.1 or something. Mumbleby (the tutor bloke, not his real name) said there were good parts and some not so good parts. Ah well, it's not like I actually care. He slated the Princess' paper, lending ever more proof to the 'He doesn't like her, and for no apparent reason' case.

Tomorrow I have to take music into the American music class and talk about it. I've known about this for some time, and the whole 'which song to pick?' question has really been bugging me. I've made an executive decision, however: Roisin Dubh by Thin Lizzy. Seven minutes of beautiful guitars, beautiful lyrics and Philip Lynott. Stairway to Heaven would've been too cliche. Ditto Beatles. Ditto Doors. Everyone knows I love the Beatles and the Doors. I also feel it's my duty to bring in some proper rock music. I nearly chose 'The Celebration of the Lizard', that great Doors track. But it's seventeen minutes long and I don't think they'd appreciate it too much.

So far people have brought in Lindisfarne, Fairport Convention, Fairground Attraction, some chillout crap, someone brought in some sixties Jazz (not good stuff, btw) and Wigga James brought in Dre, so very unsurprisingly. It's my duty to show these poor lost souls what real music sounds like with guitars and stuff. And I shall. I'm so Barry from High Fidelity it's almost unamusing.

Anyway, in the spirit of time wasting, here's a quiz. I can't remember who I nicked it off.

( Proof Of Boredom. I Guarantee Amusement. )

I think I've got over my worrying Labyrinth problem. I sat and listened to some Spandex Dave before bed last night and felt better. Tried watching The Brit Awards, but it's just so not my scene it's not funny. Switched off when Justin 'Not Michael Jackson' Timberlake and Kylie 'Pop Tart: Best Before 1990' Minogue duetted on my favourite Blondie song- Rapture. Nightmares for me tonight, I'm telling you.

Well, back to my essay. Eventually. Did I mention that I hate work and I hate politics? I mean, why should I bother looking at past American politics- George W Bush certainly doesn't bother.

Politics Sucks.

I have a Politics (US Foreign Policy Since 1945) essay due in tomorrow. Started it five minutes ago. Have (of the end 2,500 words) 100 words. It's about Nixon, Kissinger, Detente, the emergence of Soviet power and I couldn't care less if it also involved Russell Crowe.

I did start annotating a book yesterday all about Jim Morrison, so I have now officially started my dissertation. I have a plan for it, too.

The Princess and the Marine are back, which is very cool. He was a little overwhelmed at meeting all these new people that are her friends, so I think he was relieved when I turned up- a familiar face.

Got 65 out of 100 for my Hollywood paper. Didn't disgrace myself or Errol, so that's good. I think that counts as a 2.1 or something. Mumbleby (the tutor bloke, not his real name) said there were good parts and some not so good parts. Ah well, it's not like I actually care. He slated the Princess' paper, lending ever more proof to the 'He doesn't like her, and for no apparent reason' case.

Tomorrow I have to take music into the American music class and talk about it. I've known about this for some time, and the whole 'which song to pick?' question has really been bugging me. I've made an executive decision, however: Roisin Dubh by Thin Lizzy. Seven minutes of beautiful guitars, beautiful lyrics and Philip Lynott. Stairway to Heaven would've been too cliche. Ditto Beatles. Ditto Doors. Everyone knows I love the Beatles and the Doors. I also feel it's my duty to bring in some proper rock music. I nearly chose 'The Celebration of the Lizard', that great Doors track. But it's seventeen minutes long and I don't think they'd appreciate it too much.

So far people have brought in Lindisfarne, Fairport Convention, Fairground Attraction, some chillout crap, someone brought in some sixties Jazz (not good stuff, btw) and Wigga James brought in Dre, so very unsurprisingly. It's my duty to show these poor lost souls what real music sounds like with guitars and stuff. And I shall. I'm so Barry from High Fidelity it's almost unamusing.

Anyway, in the spirit of time wasting, here's a quiz. I can't remember who I nicked it off.

( Proof Of Boredom. I Guarantee Amusement. )

I think I've got over my worrying Labyrinth problem. I sat and listened to some Spandex Dave before bed last night and felt better. Tried watching The Brit Awards, but it's just so not my scene it's not funny. Switched off when Justin 'Not Michael Jackson' Timberlake and Kylie 'Pop Tart: Best Before 1990' Minogue duetted on my favourite Blondie song- Rapture. Nightmares for me tonight, I'm telling you.

Well, back to my essay. Eventually. Did I mention that I hate work and I hate politics? I mean, why should I bother looking at past American politics- George W Bush certainly doesn't bother.