ILY, long weekend.

This long weekend was JUST what I needed. It was the perfect mix of action-packed catch-ups with friends, lounging around watching shitty movies, seemingly endless sleep, and party-time debauchery.

A high school catch-up here, a comedy festival show there, a sleep in or two scattered around some footy, dinner with a pal, and the Game of Thrones season premiere - well son, you're cooking with some TASTY, TASTY SHIT. I actually almost completely forgot it was Easter (good Catholic that I am), such was the intensity of the weekend's Pure Undiluted Goodness. PUG, if you will.

Know what PUG is? It's a first thought of panic entering your heart after waking up of your own accord, then the realisation that the complete lack of obnoxious screeching alarm is because THE WEEKEND'S NOT OVER YET, BITCHES.

The weekend was a cup of coffee when it's just the right temperature for drinking while still being hot. This weekend was finding $100 in your room (WHICH HAPPENED). This weekend was Christopher Walken, when he's being menacing without being a hammy caricature. Hell, this weekend was like the perfect ratio of chip quantity to dip quantity.

Weekend, you were alright. 

In other news, I've written a few things for Port Whine, and if you'd like you can read them.

I do hope your Easter weekend was filled with PUG, and I do hope tomorrow doesn't treat you too rudely.

I have actually been doing things.

Honestly, I have. While often "things" equates to consuming three boxes of barbeque Shapes within the space of two days and enduring the subsequent shame spiral, it also means I've been doing Legitimate Constructive Activities as well.

Apart from my usual role as photographer (read: occasionally the only way I end up leaving the house during the week) for the lovely and very cool guys at Venuemob, the lovely and very cool guys at Venuemob have recently enlisted me for another task. The task has been to write and/or re-write a very large amount of copy for their website, which is being re-done, re-launched and re-snazzed sometime this month (I believe).

That's meant writing all manner of nice things about venues around Melbourne, and finding all sorts of new and interesting ways to say "this venue caters to groups of all sizes" or "this venue has many rooms for you to use". It's been a challenge, albeit an enjoyable one. It's also probably a good thing, to have something force me to use my brain for things that aren't watching endless episodes of Friday Night Lights in between writing drivel and/or quite silly articles.

Speaking of quite silly articles (SEGUE! SEGUE! SEGUE!), I've recently begun writing for Port Whine. I've only written a couple so far; one about having no money, and one about my rather embarrassing penchant for nerds.  You can read them if you think that's the kind of silliness you'd be into.

I've also been recruited by Perth-based mag Colosoul, although the only thing I've done so far is for the print issue so I don't have a link for you because YOU CAN'T LINK TO IRL PAPER ON THE INTERNET, DINGUS.

Self-Promotion.

I wrote a review of Higher Ground for RHUM.

Here's a review of I'm With You, which I mentioned in a recent post.

Oh, boy! Another! This one's of One Day ... you may remember I watched it some time ago and had quite conflicting emotions about it.

Just wrote one of Midnight in Paris, which I'm going to go ahead and declare is one of my favourite films of the year. I'm not even kidding. I loved it. I ADORED it. Maybe I loved it that much because I like what I like and I read what I read and I have a very soft spot in my heart for the films of Woody Allen, but I'm sure as shit going to stick by that assertion.

I went to the Art of the Brick over the weekend, at Federation Square. It was pretty rad, if a little sparse compared to the mental image I'd prepared myself for upon entering. There's no such thing as "too much Lego" in my opinion. At any rate, there was a book market at Fed Square that morning and I felt inspired to buy The Great Gatsby, which was most likely an almost direct result of having had Midnight in Paris on my mind that morning. I hope that's not too much of a spoiler. Anyway, after comparing favourite Allen films with the guy who sold me said book (as well as one by Herman Hesse), I think I'm going to re-watch Manhattan tonight. Then I might ramble about it on here. Maybslol.

Also, I'm on Bloglovin' now. Christ, that's a lot of spruiking. My apologies.

Things I Do Movies I See

Oh, hello.

I didn't see you there.

I wrote a review of Jane Eyre. I enjoyed it. As in, I enjoyed watching it and then after that I enjoyed gathering my opinions and writing them down on a computer.

I also wrote a review of The Red Hot Chili Peppers' new concert film, I'm With You. It's not up yet though. BUT! If you'd like a preview of that particular review, a VIP pass to what I thought, it is thus: It wasn't particularly good. If only it was a cinema experience brainwave conjured up by the RHCP camp a decade earlier. If only. Those days of yore are gone, gone like the posters of the Chili Peppers and Darth Maul that once graced my bedroom.

I've also been doing other things.

One of the things I have been doing is buying a new hard drive (joy!) and another is editing. Maybe for Skybus? Yes, if memory serves me correctly.  Watch it if you'd like.

Oh, so many things to be watching and doing! Where do I find the time? I do not know. I suppose my lackluster job-seeking skills have a lot to do with this activity. Last night I watched Submarine with the lovely and amazing Alice. She was hungover, I was not. Amazing what not having a hangover can be conducive to one achieving. Like going out for breakfast, or doing laundry in the morning, or not eating a box of Shapes in bed then wanting to barf it up.

Submarine was great. It was very hip, very cool, and by that I mean it was very quirky because apparently that is what is cool now. Do the kids still use "cool"? Christ, I'm out of the loop. Did you know there's a Mana Bar in Melbourne now? Apparently there is! 

Bars at which one can play Starcraft aside, Submarine was superb. Best film I've seen since back in Melbourne (and I've been to the movies about ten times in these three weeks). Hats off to Richard Ayoade. Moss-from-IT-Crowd obviously loves a bit of Godard, which I'm not going to fault him of in the slightest. He nods at the New Wave without being annoying about it (read: he does it well), he directs his young stars fucking well. Those who know me well will know that I am wont to disliking children or young teens in films. I adored them in Submarine. It's a lovely film to watch. It's a gorgeous film to look at. I laughed, I laugh-snorted into my water bottle. Goddamn, I enjoyed it. 

Soroh Jossico Porkor.

It's been a fairly busy week. Many shows to see, many reviews to write. Also, in between that I've been attempting to earn some money and organise a trip to South America.

I'm going to do some shameless self-promotion right now. Sozlol. Would you like to read a review of Dave Thornton? Well, you can! One that I wrote! Also, here's one of Kitty Flanagan! And Ava Vidal! Wow, guys! So much for you to read!

Actually, it's been a fairly interesting experience. After picking up my tickets to Dave Thornton, with Brian in tow, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd be reviewing someone I know personally. Well, no shit. Let it never be said that I'm not quick off the mark, guys. I saw him on the steps of the Town Hall and was about to bound over to say hi. Then I realised what that conversation would have been like.

"HEY DAVE! I haven't seen you since Edinburgh! How's things? I'm seeing your show tonight! And I'm reviewing it! How funny is that? Speaking of funny, you better be!"

Yeah. Awkward. So I didn't. Luckily, his show actually was really funny, so it was all okay.

Unfortunately, Ava Vidal wasn't so funny. So then I had to get over my niceness and write a bad review. Of course, I'd written bad reviews before. Only, typically they're of films. Which are far easier to criticise and lambast than a human person who was onstage before you, being very brave and telling jokes.

I got over it though.

Not up yet is a review of Josh Earl, who was unbelievably great. I urge you to see him. His show was super. It makes you laugh, then go "Aww."

I saw Jason Byrne last night. I remember I saw his show last year and TG remarked, "What, is that the Irish guy that yells at the audience for an hour?" ... well, yes. He is. But he does it so goddamn well!! I haven't laughed that hard for a long while. Like, gasping, tearful laughter. I kind of wonder if he'd be quite as funny sans Irish accent, but does that really matter when he's got audience members skipping rope and he's bounding around the stage, cackling? Not really, in my opinion.

A special mention has to go to Dave (not Thornton, but Doov) for very patiently reading through drafted paragraphs and constantly reassuring me, "That reads well" or "It's fine" or "(Y)" ... sozol.

In return, I present you with this:

(I  haven't used photoshop in ages, and this was very haphazard. Might do a better one later.)

EDIT: ALSO, THIS:

Things, etc.

I'm not working tonight.
I'm not doing anything tonight.

The fact that I'm not doing anything tonight makes me very, very happy. I've got a date with a cup of tea. And by cup of tea, I don't mean "tea-bagging" or anything vaguely sexual or exciting (you dirty minded rapscallion), I mean "cup of tea".

I've increased my hours at the call center, so I'm now essentially working 9am till 10pm most days. Thus, it's become necessary for me to come up with new ways to break up my day. Besides gazing at Beard (who, incidentally, has shaved and therefore must be referred to as Moustache), I've begun jotting down the bizarre and dumb names I come across while interrupting dinners across Australia.

Last shift's highlights included:

• Tuna
• Leumth (pronounced "Lee")
• Jaisyn (Jason)
• And way too many vowels having been replaced by "Y" for me to handle.

Anyway. I wrote a review of Howl. You can read it if you'd like.

Expect a flurry of activity over the next couple of weeks. I'm attending a few preview screenings for various things, which I'll be rambling about as always on Cut Print Review.

Also, I'll be reviewing a bunch of shows at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival for RHUM, a site that is pretty great. 

So that's fairly exciting.

In other news, here are somethings I've been enjoying. Please for you to enjoy also.

Ten Sexy Ladies by Joshua Allen

A cat that looks like Lenin.

This trailer. (please, for the love of all that is hilarious, click it).

In addition to those, I read with great interest a particular post at Being Blanche. Not only was it interesting to note that the author was in at least one of my classes at uni (small world, etc), but I completely concurred with pretty much everything that post about dating culture in Australia.

Believe it or not, I went on a date last weekend. Or at least, I think it was a date. Given that I spend so much time with guys, my concept of a date is somewhat skewed. Look, I'm pretty sure it was a date. We got a coffee, saw a movie, got another coffee, wandered around the city and had a nice time. Before embarking on said date though, I noted with some degree of surprise that it had actually been a long while since my last "first date". As it turns out, the actual number of times I've been "Asked Out on a Date" have been minimal (at best).

I mean, the last guy I was in a semi-functioning (sort-of) relationship with was a friend of mine, who I began shagging, then discovered I really quite liked. As in, like like guys, isn't that, like, exciting? "Did you go on any dates?" you ask. No. "Tell me more, tell me more!" you reply. Well, we went to the movies a few times, but that's because we'd have probably gone to the movies together anyway, regardless of being shag-pals or not. In fact, with every guy I've hung out with/gotten few drinks with/made out with/shagged over the past few years, it has been with a constant raging battle to see who can give less of a shit. Or, seem to give less of a shit. Anyway, it was refreshing to hear these thoughts from another female.

If you're wondering if there'll be a "second date" (whatever the hell that means), then yes. Probably. He likes Neil Young and looks a little bit maybe kind of like Arlo Guthrie.

What has ...

... two thumbs, and just got a mention on the Andrew WK site?

(I just got back from work and there is no chance
I'll be taking a photo of myself at this particular time)

THIS REB.

So, that's exciting.

Also, here's my review of How Do You Know? ... read it if you want.

The Internet is a Playground.

Derp.

I'm exhausted. I was only meant to work two shifts this week, starting from tomorrow. As it turns out however, I ended up working today and also yesterday, two shifts that happened to end up being excruciatingly tiring, busy and fraught with vital cafe machinery breaking, as well as giant groups of dudds. It makes me wonder what the hell I'm doing working at that damn cafe, and makes me wonder why I haven't stepped up my Looking For a Real Job efforts. I adore my co-workers, and it really is quite enjoyable much of the time but still...

Staggering in the front door however, my weary bones suddenly received a jolt of PURE UNDILUTED JOY when I spied the package waiting on the table for me. Could it be? Possibly? YES.

My copy of The Internet is a Playground by David Thorne of 27b/6 finally arrived, after at least three weeks of impatient waiting.

If you haven't ever been to his site, David Thorne is one of the FUNNIEST people I have ever known to have existed. Absolute biting, absurd wit. Amazing. Go there. NOW NOW NOW NOW.

Also, I wrote a review about Morning Glory. I probably could have written it a bit better, but you can read it if you wish.

"Reb, you don't have to abbreviate everything you say."

On the set of Star Wars: A New Hope. Superb, I think. 

To me, it's become habit to say "soz" instead of "sorry". 

Is this bad? Probably. For someone who values correct grammar and a good vocabulary, this horrible, horrible automatic "soz"ing and this propensity to litter most sentences with "like" is ... painful. 

I apologise. I am trying. 

Try as I might though, it's proving extremely difficult to completely rid my day-to-day vocabulary of "like".
"And I was like, whatever!"
"...then he was like, NAH!"

That's really not the point though. The point is, while I haven't been writing much on this blog due to Christmas and everything that it entails, I haven't been completely idle. Just mostly.

Head over to Cut Print Review to read my article, 10 Festive Films That Won't Make You Vomit. 

It's festive, it's movies.

From somewhere on Reddit. Sozlol, can't remember where.