The guide did the same thing that every cave guide does when they get the tour down deep inside the cave. He gathered us all together and turned off the lights. Absolute dark. The absence of any light whatsoever. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Everyone who has ever had that experience knows exactly what I am talking about.
You know I’m antisocial … I was a little more unapproachable when I still had two dogs and an electric wire running along the top of my fence, but the wooden fence and my one dog and the fact that my gate is not where people think it ought to be, keep me fairly private. Only people my dog likes can just wander in – and those people are (mostly) welcome. The reason I’m waffling on about that, is that a bit earlier, someone stood outside the fence shouting knocky knockyyyyy till I appeared. It was cute.
Last night I dreamed that I kissed Alanis Morissette – odd in itself, because I’ve never perved her and it’s a while since I’ve heard any of her music. What’s even odder is that we abseiled Big Ben first, then when we swung inside it had turned to the dome of St Paul’s. And then we had to inhale dust from the surface of a very old golden candle while we kissed. Looks wise, she was in this sorta mode:
But this is way funnier:
… and it’s the only meme I could find that didn’t talk about how ironic it is that she wrote a song called isn’t it ironic, which contains no irony. So much irony.
My head is sore and I’ve had quite a lot of brain zaps today. Last night’s sleep was a bit broken (DAMN YOU ALANIS!), I’m tired and mopey.
I watched Django Unchained (yeah I’m always late to the movies) and then read a whole heap of varying reactions to it. One critic got grouchy at people laughing ‘when a white woman was shot near the end,’ well that was a slice of humour that I didn’t see as racially motivated at all. I snorted aloud too, it was bloody funny. Classic slapstick tension breaker – classic Tarrantino – all that grim violence and then gleeful laughter, because when said white woman took the bullet, her body flew up and backwards into the next room, out of sight. The prototype kkk got served with wit too; the hood eyehole fail was epic. I read that Spike Lee and Louis Farrakhan found the film insulting to their ancestors; they have every right to their reaction. All opinions are valid eh?
Remember that shootout scene in Boondock Saints? Slomo bullets and quick deaths bam bam bam, blood spatters and crouching corpses hidden cadavers and then that slooooow quiet breathless moment and BAM another gunshot and the cat dies too. Mew. Funny as fuck, because it’s a relief from the pace and blood of all the killing before it, amirite? Only one thing is certain – all the white people who yelled about racism against whites in the film … well they don’t know shit.
Eh meh. I’m babbling on as though my blog just met me at the door, took my coat and said hi honey, how was your day?
Well blog, I’m kinda achy and fizzy, like I’m getting the flu … *mournful look*
You poor thing, relax while I get you some lemon and honey, today’s newspaper and Alanis Morissette.
Ohhh alright then … if you must.
(I just hope it’s not man flu.)
(If it’s butch flu I’m okay.)
(Butches really are tough.)