In Which Nick Makes A Mistake, And Learns The Real Meaning Of Tight-Arse Tuesday...

Forgive me, Cinema, for I have sinned.

It had all the elements neccessary - the weather is crap, I have a day off and nothing to do, it's Tight-Arse Tuesday so I get a generous discount - why then must you curse me with this TRAVESTY against CINEMATOGRAPHY?

I'll start again: today, I went and saw "G.I. Joe".

I had been warned - David, of "At The Movies" gave it a fairly damning review, but, fool that I was, I thought to myself "It can't be *that* bad. He's always critical. That's his job."

I'd recieved better suggestions - I asked Twitter what I should see, and I recieved glorious praise of "Coraline". And I thought to myself "Nah, I can convince Mum to see that with me. Better pick something only *I* will want to see."

I am clearly an idiot.

I don't want to talk about what happened in the film, I'll address that, possibly, when I calm down, but I give unto you all one piece of advise: you can ignore me on everything else, but I will die happy if you DO NOT SEE THIS FILM.

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way Here Today...

Well, not really, quite the opposite, but my other working-title - "Git-Boy In Bike Bust-Up" - doesn't really have the same...je ne se qua. Let us leave it there, and engage then in the tail at hand, which does have a slightly humorous end:

As some of you know (or, we shall pretend you do!), I've taken to riding my bicycle to and from Uni - it's only about 40 minutes, there and back, it's good for me, and it allows me to spend money in ways more productive than allowing it to be sucked into the spiralling vortex of doom we affectionately and optimistically call our public transport network.

My bicycle I've had since I was about 15 - along the way it's had a few repairs, needed a new seat, had a couple of lights stuck on, but it is, essentially, the bike I have had for three years, and keep in the garage, out of the rain.

This morning, on my way to Uni, and speeding through a busy intersection, I happened to misjudge my turn, and found myself flying uncontollably towards a sign by the side of the road. Cooly, I pulled on the brakes and...well, they did sweet bugger all.

At speed, then, flinging my hands out in front of my face - it would be a shame were my good-looks lost to the world - I painfully collided with the sign, filling the air with language that would make a sailor blush, and educating the small children disembarking the crowded train on the other side of the road, and severely injuring my left hand, covering my right in scratches, and damaging both my legs.

Lying face-down on the pavement, bleeding profusely, I was approached by an middle-aged gentlemen, who asked, completely straight-faced, "Are you alright?"

AM I ALRIGHT? AM I ALRIGHT?! I'VE JUST COLLIDED WITH A ROAD-SIGN, AM BLEEDING QUITE HEAVILY ALL OVER MY BODY, AND CAN'T FEEL MY RIGHT LEG, AND YOU'RE ASKING IF I'M ALRIGHT? OF COURSE I AM! I'M FANTASTIC! HOW ABOUT YOU?

I love people some times.



Au Revoir,
Nick

My Mother And Other Monsters...

*peers around cautiously* Man, I haven't been here in a while *blows away dust* Here, that bett- OH GOD THE SPIDERS!!!

Haha, no.

I just needed a little time off - I was notoriously uninspired, and suffering a cliched bout of teenage angst (for which you will excuse me - it is rather expected of one, and I am nothing if not curtious in obliging). I'm okay, and I'm going to launch myself back into blogging more regularly - I find writing theraputic, and besides, I may as well do something with all my free time!

It's intriguing to me now that I had such difficulty writing - everything that surrounds me seems suddenly so unique, and inspiring that I am amazed I didn't notice it before. Seguing back to our title, in fact, the source of today's blog is my mother.

My mother is a thoroughly remarkable woman, and undoubtably one of the strangest, quirkiest, and hilarious person I know.

My favorite anecdote about her involves a trip to the Comedy Festival some years ago (I believe we were seeing Adam Hills). Waiting outside the venue, tossled back-and-forth by other members of the public, eager to get inside, my younger brother asked, innocently, "Mum, is this stand up comedy?". Completely dead-pan, and vaguely, as if she hadn't really heard, she responded "No dear, we get seats".

It was brilliant. The timing, and the delivery were just exceptional, and I've been trying to emulate them to this day.

So, class, today's lesson is that inspiration can be found everywhere, and that I'm back, baby!

Au Revior,
Nick