Global Warming and the Farce

Crooning on my STEREO: Fifth of Bethoven by NASSAU

I fell asleep while watching AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH because it was boring, highly self-indulgent and rather kid-dish. It's like watching Al Gore's world-saving tactics for dummies; if there's such a movie ever made, but thats how I perceived the entire propaganda of self pity: I didn't win your votes before hence I want to make you feel REALLY BAD about it, because I am a saint and you didn't know this back then....



That whole farce worked on the masses. I am amazed at how many people have come up to me and said that it was the SCARIEST movie ever made. I thought Candyman was scarier. In fact, eurosleaze shows like MalaBimba is hilarious yet scary because the entire twisted plot was supposedly ochestrated by The Devil. (haha)

So, Al Gore scared you into believing that the world shall end quicker, ie. if you continue to use plastic bags, that sin is going contribute to global warming in some puny way.

There is somebody who capitalized on this herd paranoia. Anya Hindmarch invented those rough canvas bags that shouted "I am not a plastic bag." They are cheap. But limited in quantity. Consequently, thousands of plastics (my definition of dumb girls who queued hours to get themselves one) fought for them, so much so that many fans also bought fake ones at cut throat prices just to fit in.

Mind you, saving the world should not be an exclusive deed. And only goodness knows if these canvas bags were manufactured via fair trade. I don't know how much of the world you can save by replacing 1000 plastic bags with 500 "limited edition" canvas bags.

Ok I was slightly wrong. There was no paranoia. It is merely a FASHION TREND. And trends go out of date. They pass on.

Then I have some well-connected young pals who recently co-edited books on bio-degeneration and going green. Of course they didn't write them entirely. But there were posh autograph sessions and press conferences, and it made me equate such occurrences to nothing but, FAME. As a pure juxtaposition, I don't recall Mother Theresa autographing her books.

At that time, there was also a sudden influx of friends within the same circle who raved, 'hey, i am going green because my friend wrote a book on the greenhouse effect.' And I asked 'what do you know about the green house effect?' And she answered, 'Well, our world is in trouble and we are heating up. Peter wrote that we can make a difference by converting waste into energy'.

And I asked, 'Ok. Do you know that Peter the "author" does not car pool and drives around in a Porsche?'

That didn't bother her nor the expanding circle of Peter's friends. In fact, co-editing those books made Peter a demi-god. He is even getting free alcohol in every club he goes.

What I am trying to say is, there are more ethical ways of expounding doomsday. An Inconvenient Truth is an odd way of threatening moviegoers to invest in a method to save the world by presenting the earth's exaggerated vulnerabilities. Hence many corporations turn such mass induced fears into a business by reinstating their "green" reputation. If you are not naive about the global economy, every "green" or "blue" business plan boils down to money and politics. Hence Peter is selling books to launch his career in his family's business empire.

On a macro scale if you didn't play truant on your science and geography classes, there is also an even greater truth that there is really nothing we can do about this decaying earth.We can only slow it down, but not significantly. Let's face it, we are eventually going to end up like the dinosaurs because we claim to know so much of our earth but nothing about the universe.

Now that I am researching on astro-physics, I can tell you a simple theory. Check out our neighbor VENUS below.

Ancient astronomers assumed that there could be life on Venus because of its component similarities to that of Earth. However, every spacecraft that has tried to enter its atmosphere literally blows up due to huge gravitational changes. Later research shows that it is indeed a big greenhouse. It's quite hot. What caused it? Was there some sort of evolution? We can only speculate.

Then we have our MARTIAN neighbor.

Tonight NASA's little robot Phoenix will enter Mars' atmosphere in search of water and other evidence of bacterial life form, thats if it lands safely. It is a giant red planet, looks a little ugly but very reminiscent of our red dessert. It's quite dead. There could have been life in the past but if there was, what caused their demise? Decomposing plastic bags? Again we don't really know.

Ditto to all of our 10000s of unanswered questions pertaining to the other planets in our solar system. What killed the other planetary life forms, if we were not alone in this vast universe? And on our own grounds, what killed off the dinosaurs? Surely they didn't have factories back then.

Because we do not know. Hence, why are we so consumed by Al Gore's Oscar, canvas bags, Peter's book, switching off all lights in the house for a day because a Facebook group tells you to? So much so that we don't have a global clarity of understanding why we do such things. We do such because the mass media tells us to, but we will soon get bored and forget to switch off the plug.

If only we realize how beautiful our Earth as compared to the other fuzzy planets of outer space, we would be genuinely inspired to do things in respect of Mother Nature. It is simply because Man can never stop a sudden asteroid nor cyclone from devouring us one day. It is a fact that too much irreversible damage has been done to Earth. This is general science:

Every living thing has its life span.


And we do not need consumerism to tell us that. In all honesty, many corporate "green" campaigners impart a sense of deluded hope by presenting a world crisis as a bankable trend. Every hype has its anti climax.

So guys, collectively switching off all the lights in your house for one day just because MTV tells you to do so, isn't really going to make a big difference. You are behaving like an ignorant cult member.

PATATA!!!!!

Crooning on my STEREO: Lollipop by MIKA

Due to security concerns, the original post has been modified into a more self-indulgent version as per below.

In case you even BOTHER, I just got back from the U.S.A and brought a luggage full of nice things home with me. I am so in love. In case you even BOTHER, this is one of my obssessive purchases from the greatest blessing that is Victoria's Secret:



I am talking about the cheeky dress, not the chick. DOH. Again, in case you even BOTHER, I didn't buy the fluffy fan to complete the look. It is very likely that only my sayang will see me drunk & doning this frock with a beer in one hand.... if the size still fits by then.

It was tremendously good to be in Sin City: living in the best suites, best mansions with Bon Jovi as a gentle neighbour and sublime shopping... but my gambling luck is a little lopsided. Even my camera luck was lame, you would've read that I've met so and so celebs but I NEVER had my camera with me. Whoever who jinxed me in this aspect should poop themselves to oblivion.

My ultimate favourite is The Mansion @ MGM Grand, where the most gorgeous, posh & elite sunbathers congregated by the VIP pool every morning. Although I was the heaviest and worst looking of the lot, I still managed to strike up meaningful conversations with them and learnt that I was lucky enough to be there with my family, and not with an old and dying gigolo to gain this luxury.



Then there was San Francisco, where the shopping beats the world and I am missing a lovely aunt. Last but not least there was Hollywood; the mecca for all struggling and starving actors. A few people from my Method class thrived there, and some went home. Lazy arses like me perpectually holiday there.



Again, the green card seems like a pretty good idea in my quest for the Holy Grail.

Hangat

Crooning on my STEREO: All I Want For Xmas by MARIAH CAREY

Gosh... I so HAVE to blog about this:-

TODAY I WAS SHOPPING IN PAUL SMITH

WITH



MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

And the lead dude, whatever his name, is SO SO SO HOT.

But I had to question why he wore a leather jacket. Its probably to maintain that mat rock look even in humid malaysia.

BUT

There is always a downside with all my star encounters. By some bitching of destiny, I NEVER have my camera with me.

5 months from now, you will not believe what you have read here today. You will forget because I have null to prove. Nada.

Most of you would know that I have a hell lot of luck with spotting celebs. But it totally sucks that I don't have any chummy photos with Ricky Martin, Jenson Button, Westlife, Colin Farrell, David Coulthard, Gael Garcia Bernal, Sam Neil, Stanley Tucci and only god knows of the countless others that I've missed out.

Lack of visual evidence doesn't position me to BRAG big time.

with the exception of IL DIVO. Hail Salvation!!

Calendar Dogs

Crooning on my STEREO: Lost by MICHAEL BUBLE

It is perfectly ok to lose hope in humanity, but let us not forget the other species who are capable of loving us through rain and shine. To all my silent and non-silent blog stalkers: Do a good deed today and get yourself a few copies of the 2008 SPCA Calendar (Malaysian edition)



I have pimped my dogs as calendar models. I found it pretty weird that they are achieving stardom quicker than I am.

Oh my god, I am so shallow.

Sunday Morning

Crooning on my STEREO: Domo Mia by TAZENDA ft. EROS RAMAZZOTTI

This is indeed an unusual Sunday morning for me. I am awake at 10a.m, still in my PJs and dragon breath. No hangover. No miserly hole in my pocket. I sprained my back.

Or rather, I didn't quite go out the night before. I only had ONE drink at a friend's place where I mourned about how 75% of my friends are plastic fishes and how they should all be kept in an aquarium. This is a very depressing metaphor; a truth which I somehow always knew, but I never had the guts to press 'delete' on my social keyboard. You can have 500 friends on Facebook but only 5 would even care to know where your house is.

Consequently I dreamt of Giorgio Armani who urged me to buy a pair of sandals off him. His words of advice were, "start kicking pests out of your life." My thoughts were, " I will kick YOU for burning a hole in my wallet."

Just like any underpaid employee, I have financial issues. Eventhough I am so assured that 2008 is going to be a turnaround year, I still have 4 more months to plod through 2007. So its a matter of killing time and earning interest in my bank account.

Financial and social issues are the least of my concerns. The love issue is pivotal, and my life is more or less gauged by its strength. I watched Un Viaggio Chiamato Amore and I saw my personal fears rolled out before me.

Yeah, I worry.

I relate to Dino Campana's manic disillusion of love. And I also acquaint my great grief in Sibilla Aleramo's unrequited passion. The freaky bit is that the two characters constitute me, but perhaps, not my lover.

In any case that you are wondering, they are both great poets. In love.

I am trying to get hold of a copy of Orphic Songs, which will give us a breathtaking translation of Dino's poem below:-

In un momento
Sono sfiorite le rose
I petali caduti
Perché io non potevo dimenticare le rose
Le cercavamo insieme
Abbiamo trovato delle rose
Erano le sue rose erano le mie rose
Questo viaggio chiamavamo amore
Col nostro sangue e colle nostre lagrime facevamo le rose
Che brillavano un momento al sole del mattino
Le abbiamo sfiorite sotto il sole tra i rovi
Le rose che non erano le nostre rose
Le mie rose le sue rose

P.S. E così dimenticammo le rose.

Grief turns one into insanity. Madness turns one into a genius. I can only cry at the sight of these eternal words. And how it aptly describes my current crossroads; I really cannot handle love.

And I am sure that this is the same for many of us.

Okay, on a lighter note. Just when I thought that my acting career was on the decline, I found this pirate DVD.

Sorry about the boobies. Its an art film, y'see?

You may remember that I worked as a film extra in London 3 years back. (Oh, how i miss those days of lunching in trailers with other fascinating stars-to-be. During this shoot, I even fancied the casting assistant...)

Back to my self-indulgent point, the kind director DID NOT remove my cameo, so try and spot me !!! (eventhough i resemble a downtrodden Chinese immigrant. Don't worry, I am not naked.)

Oh, this feature is going on the big screens in Europe, Singapore and other liberal Asian countries.

And hey, this is not porn.

We will meet soon.

Crooning on my STEREO: Last Night by DIDDY feat Keyshia Cole

I've been in this rotten TV industry for too long; I've forgotten what constitute great films and I've also disregarded their crucial existence in my mundane life. You see, I've recently been watching so much of telly trash that I am led to believe that either this world is stupid, or the tube is stupid. Or both.

It's all in the name of work. It has made me benign. I think that I was a lot smarter when I was a student. My Phd hormones are kicking in.

Sit tight. I am going to lament over the deaths of Antonioni and Bergman. Not that they were my favourite directors to begin with, but one cannot deny that they were the last surviving European legends of a bygone golden cinematic era. Initially, I thought that both dudes were already dead 20 years ago simply because they hadn't produced any significant work since their glorious 50s and 60s, hence I would assume that they shouldn't be alive for another half-century.

Forgive my miscalculations. I suck at maths. I am trying to say that their lives have outlived their peaks.

First of all, Ingmar Bergman and Ingrid Bergman are NOT related to each other, although I reckon that itd be more interesting otherwise. Their only similarity is that they are both Swedish. I mean, they are from the land of Ikea and meatballs.

Ingmar Bergman is VERY nordic. So, expect alot of blonde characters and long winter nights in his films. His most famous work is the Seventh Seal; featuring the infamous scene that frames an aptly dressed knight playing chess with a figure of Death clad stylishly in a black cloak. Trust me that you would have seen this image; it has been exploited in all media forms after Bergman's death last Monday.

This is one of my favourite scenes from the film, where the poor knight is suddenly overwhelmed by the surprise visit of Death in his confession box. I think that this is very hilarious.


Malaysians can easily obtain a pirate copy of this film through your local DVD vendor. Just ask for Cerita Hantu.
Although I must stress that this is FAR from a horror flick.

My favourite Bergman work has to be Fanny And Alexander, a TV miniseries totalling 318 minutes. This has to be the longest viewing I have done in one sitting, but enough to instil great hopes in 1980s television. Every frame is simply breathtaking.

Michelangelo Antonioni is Italian. But not conventionally Italian as what you would see in La Vita E Bella nor La Dolce Vita. In actual fact, I highly regard him as boring. And slow. But not as painfully boring as Tsai Ming Liang.

If you would like to acquaint with Antonioni, L'avventura is a great start. It is the first part of the director's infamous trilogy that comprises of L'eclisse and La Notte... and for your info, all had done worlds better than the LOTR trilogy in critics' circles.

I am not a fan of films that subscribe to 'time suspended' narrative (aka. long windedness).... but this is what Antonioni is all about. You can have a storyline that can be compressed into 15minutes of whirlwind action, but only a great master can stretch it to 146 minutes in such an unforgettable and non-frustrating manner. (think: Tarkovsky)



In this old style 'survivor' tale that explores the strangled nature of relationships, Monica Vitti's performance on screen is certainly worth admiring. After Giulietta Massina, she has emerged as my second favourite Italian actress of all time. Watching her strengths portrayed on Antonioni's visuals makes me somewhat bitter that contemporary cinema no longer carries such quality performances.

Okay. Enough of whingeing. If Fellini had died within my era, I would have written his tribute in the form of a massive literary text. But alls hath passed and we, the surviving beings, are here to stay to indulge in their legacies.

Let's pray for the emergence another generation of awe-inspiring filmakers.

God bless Ingmar and Michelangelo. Rest In Peace.

Hair. Because You Are Worth It.

Crooning on my STEREO: Amore Disperato by NADA

When I was 9


I had the same haircut till I was 19


Bleach stripped my hair of its virginity when I was 21,


and after a heated consensus, I decided to ditch those infamous dumb-blonde locks in my midst of turning 24.


As you can probably tell, I've only had 4 hairstyle changes in the last 23.8 years.

I AM GINGER!!!

Juice and Spoleto

Crooning on my STEREO: Malo by BEBE

This morning my dearest Boh-Sia Girlfriend sent me a picture that appeared in this month's Juice magazine.


Who would have thought that this girl had a gallon of Long Island waiting to pour out of her digestives. (Thanks, Slut and Trish... for handling me plastic bags in the car). Besides, when the heck was this picture taken? I vaguely recall cam-whoring at the Velvet Member's Party. And what's with that ultra-lame diva pose?

Again, I thank the Lord that they didn't publish names.

If you're interested, the lovely boy is Casey, otherwise known as my friend-stealer. He's really cool so you can date him if you wish.

I can't stop jeering at my distorted arms. I look like a drunk maniac. The papparazzi is EVIL. This has to be the worst commercial picture of myself in living memory. (okay, second to my bikini/ cheesy 'love your body' feature in London's New Woman magazine last year or the very ugly Eversoft informercial on telly this year... the list is growing.)

Why can't they publish better photos such as this:



I will have to do some damage control in January 2007.

Okay, back to ITALIA.

Last weekend I journeyed to the sleepy medieval town of SPOLETO. There isn't much to brag about, except for this centuries old aqueduct which is known to be ideal place to take your (or somebody else's) life.

It's pretty grand and eerie. And it's apparently cool to push somebody off the bridge here. I have a long list of names for that sole purpose.

Oh, my scholarship money came out. I am all happy and rich now. As long as I have the decency to keep an eye on expenses, I no longer have to down cheap vodka and sleep on the streets for the following month.

Guess what? When it comes to manhunt, I am no longer in the market for Perugia.

That riddle will be explained in the next post.

Stay Tuned, CATIVIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!

FACE JOB

Crooning on my STEREO: Pump It by BLACK EYED PEAS

I have been thinking about a possible FACE JOB. Everyone's talking about it at the workplace.

Of course, when you're caged in a mistakenly glamorous industry, having pretty little face WORKS WONDERS. People will be generally nicer to you, clients will pursue you, you get deals done, you get a phenomenal payrise and your boss wont be inclined to use your pretty little face as a punchbag.

(Rather than to wait years for him to bloom into a decent-looking swan, the Ugly Duckling would have speed up the process by resorting to surgery so that the other ducks in the pond will be more compassionate towards him from the start. Don't you just LOVE this shallow world? )

But hey, might as well throw in a course of full body LIPOSUCTION . And leg extensions, too? I'd love a boob job as well.

By now you would have noticed that I am (was) a failed actress. I don't doubt my acting skills though.When I attended auditions in Malaysia, they specifically said they would prefer a PAN ASIAN for the job. Even one who resembles a mongloid will suffice. Oh, they even lovingly advised me to lose 75% of my body mass.

Back in London, I swear I could have scored a cameo in the DA VINCI CODE but casting agents said they would rather hire someone is a UK citizen. FINE. The best of all, they complained I didn't look ORIENTAL enough.

But not all hope is lost,
I DO HAVE A SOLUTION.

Instead of sitting on my butt and propagating my woes to the world, I shall take ACTION.

I shall transform my current monstrosity to inspire the world to LOVE me.



COSMETIC SURGERY.
THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL.



I bet you took me seriously..... Didn't you? ;)

Still Here...

Crooning on my STEREO: Do You Only Wanna Dance by MYA

Walked into a long-lost friend the other day.

And this was what she said to me

"Wow, you... look.. so... different....

I mean,

YOU LOOK LIKE GERI HALLIWELL."



Honestly,

I really don't know what to make of it...

Lights! Camera! Action!

Crooning on my STEREO: 2 Become 1 by SPICE GIRLS

Stop giving me that flak. I've got SPICE GIRLS on my stereo. Oh, damn it.


I am walking towards the red carpet at the Palais Des Festivals. Guess what?

I FORGOT MY DIGITAL CAMERA

Thank the almighty for the inbuilt camera on my mobile phone. Well, the battery did NOT last very long.

IT DID NOT SURVIVE THE C.S.I MIAMI LAUNCH PARTY.

And NO ONE WOULD HAVE BELIEVED THAT I PARTIED WITH DAVID CARUSO.

Damn it. This ALWAYS happens to me. There is not a single photo evidence of my claims to fame everytime I hit a close encounter with any celebrity at any point of my life.

(To name a few: Westlife (2x), Sam Neil, Ricky Martin, Jenson Button (2x), Seal, Fernando Alonso, Jarno Trulli, David Coulthard (2x), Eddie Irvine, Gael Garcia Bernal (2x), Stanley Tucci, Sean Biggerstaff, Colin Farrell, Giancarlo Fisichella and dozens dozens dozens of others....... sigh.)

Tough luck with my camera. As a result,
NOBODY BELIEVES ME.
*wails*

My resolution? Time to get myself a slinky camera with a longlasting battery life. And to implant a memory grain onto my head so that I will actually REMEMBER to bring it with me everywhere I go.

One step to Recovery.

That Thing We Do- Film Poster
Originally uploaded by slamducky.

Crooning on my STEREO: Wake Me Up When September Ends by GREEN DAY

I did it.
I left my acting class.

Took me a HELL lot of contemplation. Yesterday evening I finally dragged my ass off my chair and DID SOMETHING to end my misery.

Don't worry, I did not run to toxic, pills or knives this time around,

I picked up the PHONE for a change.

Well Done LYN. It's now OVER and DONE with. Till August at least.

Now its time to switch the focus onto my dissertation dedicated to Julio Medem. A few months from now, I will return to España to STALK him and to get my essay PUBLISHED.*

I guess its time to take a break from whoring my soul to the industry.

At the end of the day my brains were WRECKED beyond recognition. It got worst after I watched CELEBRITY LOVE ISLAND on telly...

------------------------------
* Only a 50/50 chance of getting it published unless Sight & Sound decides to exploit new talents on a charity basis.

** Thanks to Kris, the director of That Thing We Do, she mailed me a copy of the film poster on the right... how cool is that!! :D

10 WORST FILMS OF 2004

Crooning on my STEREO: Oye El Boom by DAVID BISBAL

In no particular order...

1) HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS
Chucking bamboo sticks, sprinkling peanuts and throwing knives. First-class Art-House TRASH & disgrace to the Chinese Community. Everybody knows what I think of this film. READ HERE

2) KING ARTHUR
What was the world thinking??Why bother paying 5quid to watch boob-less Keira Knightley smudged in slime grunting like a barbarian? (someone pleeeeeeasse EXPEL her for PLAGIARISING Legolas' archery skills...absolutely no,no,no,no originality.)
And WHO on EARTH are those HIDEOUS-looking male leads????

3) ALFIE
If you are charmed by ALFIE aka Jude Law... you are SICK.
If you aspire to be ALFIE..... apocalypse NOW.

4) SKY CAPTAIN & THE WORLD OF TOMMORROW
Who can forget that pretentious use of cheap, green, mossy film stock, B-grade CGI forcefed with an unnecessary half-hearted Angelina Jolie 5-line cameo.....
And Jude Law. AGAIN.

5) TAXI
Yes, Giselle is HOT. That's about it.

6) BUTTERFLY EFFECT
Infamous Toy Boy Ashton Kutcher striving hard to be DEEP.
Fine.
If he thinks a butterfly can cause calamity, his acting causes a migraine.
Little word of advice to Ashton: Stick to your MTV-esque PuNKeD.... stupidity has never made more sense and money.

7) THE GRUDGE
I can't stand this moneyspinning Western obssession over Jap-Korean horror remakes.
Exotic? No.
Scary? No.
Asian Long Haired ghosts? Immuned. We've seen too many of them on screen.
Think: Ring 1, Ring 2, Ring 0, The Phone, The Mirror, The Sisters, The Tree, The Ceiling, The Plate, The Fork etc...

8) GARFIELD, THE MOVIE
Why bother watching a bloody annoying orange creature bouncing around causing a shitload of mess?
Just slaughter it and have cat steak for dinner.

9) PASSION OF THE CHRIST
I am sorry... I am not into gore and butchery. A pity to see a remarkable Christian story told in a commercially vile manner. Why.. with all those gallons of spaghetti sauce... is it meant to scare us, the sinful ones, into oblivion?
By the way, Dr. Evil from Austin Powers DID make several cameo appearances. Did you spot him?

10) Some Malaysian horror film
I hardly recall the title, but I wont bother. This film segment is made up of 4 useless short films by 4 useless amateur directors, including one Fassbinder wannabe. In fact, I hope they read this: Bad casts, nauseating cinematography, shit narratives and total try-hards.
Scare factor: -100

Simon Cowell

Crooning on my STEREO: Vertigo by U2


You must have seen this man before. Or at least, for those of you who actually watch telly.
And I bet the most of you hate his guts.

I think he is the saviour of prime time television. Possibly the only tv persona who actually show signs of intelligence. He is blatantly honest; he tells you straight to your face if he thinks you're full of crap. I think that's good advice. Honest people are hard to come by these days.

Yet many people hate him. The weak minded hate him because he is, quite visibly, more sharp witted and instinctive than the norm. But many people despise honesty; they are afraid of getting hurt.

That is why many people do not progress because they deny the truth.

Today, I shoved my social calendar aside to stay in and watch the X-Factor finals. (I know.. I know!!!) Simon Cowell manages one of the finalists, Steve, who would be singing against Louis Walsh's 4 men group, G4. It was the battle of the managers, Simon versus Louis. The Tenor/Soprano group G4 are obviously more artistically distinctive than Steve, who is a natural crooner, so I expected the former to win. Plus, it was a case of 4 singers against 1.

But when Steve sang Frank Sinatra's 'Smile', I broke into tears. (usually I don't give a damn about song covers, but today it made a difference)
'Smile' have always been my spiritual anthem.

The song is not the case. Steve is the case. He started off in the auditions turned away by all the other judges but, surprisingly, nasty Simon. Despite the general preconception that Simon is an asshole, he had faith in the one man who was slagged off by the majority.

Today, Steve is in the finals. So 'nasty' Simon had a point.
And I voted (Yes, I DID!). I don't usually waste 25p on voting texts, but I felt that this man had to win. On the other hand, I was confidant that the rivals, G4, already had a recording contract on hand, so victory is not a neccessity. Because I have a soft spot for struggling artists, by voting, I am making a "talented but unfortunate" performer's dream come true.

Plus, for retribution's sake, I may need that sort of vote in the future.

Steve won. Simon won.
That bastard was right. He may slag off 90% of humanity, but he does have a worthy point. This is what I call constructive criticism. And this is coming from a smart bastard without a university degree.

He promotes a universal philosophy: simple but blatant honesty to wake the sleepyheads. I am sick of friends telling me that I look good in a coat which I actually dont.

If I have been sarcastic lately, I am totally aware of it.

That is because Simon Cowell is my role model.

This month's edition of Sight & Sound. Talk about cheesiness, but I loved the film!!! Pedro, Perdo... what's with that rose???