Saturday, June 30, 2007
if you haven't yet checked out Virtual Villagers, and VVII you oughta. That is, if you like that sorta gaming. There's no warfare, no killing, although people do die from old age, disease and starvation as you try to build a village for these poor castaways, teach them to plant crops, fish and build stuff! Oh, and I almost forgot, you get to make babies. My favorite part of the game is breeding out the erm, less desirable persons in the tribe, and making lots of babies with the hot ones. Personally I have an attachment to the blue haired dreadlocked ladies and the handsome tousled dark haired boys. Here are a few shots from VVI, which you of course have to start with!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Have a lovely week, bloggy peeps!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
She kissed the top of her childs head, then quietly slipped the bribe money into the hand of the trusty bus driver...it was gonna cost her to keep that extra week of freedom, but by Joe, she was gonna have it! Besides, the kids will love a week at Disneyland with "Uncle Bus Driver."
As summer vacations finds us, all over America mothers are screaming out in agony over the loss of their personal freedom and "space." Some of us even have teacher husbands, so we really are in for it!Let's all take a moment of silence to mourn our loss, shall we?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Here's the cool thing about it. Steve Martin wrote the book, he then stars in the film, and I got a pretty good feeling that this story is very much about the real Steve Martin. That's just my hunch, though.
Now, I wanna talk about the film because I saw it last night. It's worth the rental for the opening scenes alone, which are shot in Saaks department store, all the customers dressed smartly in black and white. I have to always rewind the opening because it's just so cool, and here, I will say it again, this is Steve's film, his vision, and I like it.
And, I must admit, I do like the confident, successful, older man thing. The well dressed, hold the small of her back as you enter a room together, fly her up to Seattle for spontaneous evening, slip her tiny black boxes with jewels inside thing. Sigh.....very classy Steve, very classy indeed.
Oh, I almost forgot to mention, that Clare Danes all grown up and without her geese is hot hot hot! Enough said, check it out.
Here's my favorite review of the film, from the Rolling Stone:
Some audiences are just never going to cotton to a screen romance that has Steve Martin, 60, getting it on with Claire Danes, 26. To which I say: Grow up, people. The May-December thing worked in Lost in Translation and it works here, thanks to the perceptive and gracefully romantic script that Martin has adapted from his novella. This is not the wild-and-crazy Martin of Bringing Down the House, this is the Martin who writes for The New Yorker with erudition and wit. OK, you've been warned. For those still interested, we'll move on.
Martin, in a sharp, subtle performance, plays Ray Porter -- possessed of charm, intelligence and millions from an L.A. computer business that allows him to indulge his taste for art and sex. There is something courtly but detached about Ray that may have factored into his divorce. And the fact that Martin is probably writing about himself won't be lost on alert viewers.
Ray is first attracted to Vermont transplant and aspiring artist Mirabelle Buttersfield (Danes) when he sees her selling gloves at Saks. The pristine setting -- Mirabelle standing amidst uncluttered elegance -- is clearly a turn-on for Ray, who seems to prefer things untouched by human hands.
As yet, Ray doesn't know about Mirabelle's messy, age-appropriate relationship with Jeremy (a very funny Jason Schwartzman, who functions as the film's broadly comic relief). But even when he does find out, Ray isn't flustered. Mirabelle wears her emotions more openly. She aspires to Ray's sophistication. Mistakenly, she also thinks she can cut through his veneer. Danes, on a roll with Stage Beauty, Igby Goes Down and the upcoming Family Stone, gives her best performance yet. It's through her that Ray's character is truly defined. He doesn't see what he's missing by keeping Mirabelle at a distance, but we do in the light of Danes' luminosity and spirit.
That's intuitive filmmaking, and director Anand Tucker (Hilary and Jackie) deserves credit for letting us catch Mirabelle in and out of Ray's pumpkin shell. If Ray's world seems hermetically sealed -- Peter Suschitzky's cinematography is cannily sleek -- that's because it's the source of his comfort and his sorrow. Even the film's missteps (the score, by Barrington Pheloung, is cringe-inducing) can't stop this meditation on love -- Martin calls it "Jane Austen for the twenty-first century" -- from melting into heartbreak. PETER TRAVERS
(Posted: Oct 20, 2005)
Have a lovely day!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Going To A Town
Yep Musical Monday, yes, Rufus. This is Rufus' "Shame on you George Bush etc" song....check it out. If you drive around with an American flag in the back of your pickup truck, you probably oughta not watch this.
Not to get all soapboxy, but I just love it when people in the public eye use that opportunity to make a statement about something they believe to be truly wrong. Or, use their riches to do the right thing, or you know, that sort of thing.
Now, don't get all pissed off at Rufus for telling it like it is. (He's Quebecois, btw).
In other news...busy weekend at the bazaar, made some bucks, paid some bills, it was hot and sunny, my allergies suck, and school is out. I might have to post my runaway bus driver 55 this Friday....he he!
Have a lovely week, people.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
"Actually, you're not allergic to very many things at all."
"However, you are very allergic to a number of wild grasses and weeds commonly found in this area, especially in orchards, fields and undeveloped lands."
"Now where was it that you said you lived?"
Achoo! Achoo! Aaaaaaachhooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Ya know, I should have bought stock in Kleenex years ago! If you wrote something cool today, let me know so I can come over and read it. If you need to know more about 55 Flash Fiction Friday, read this. I'll be the one in the corner with the tissues.....
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Now that I am an adult, I finally have my pool, and if you wanna see it, go to Mr Ratburns blog.
It was 98 degrees today. Guess where I ended up spending the afternoon?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Off the top of this clouuuuwwwwddddd!!!!
Welcome back, Lo! This one's for you. For my other three readers, please check out these beautiful children singing one of Tori's newest tunes. It's so sweet, I promise!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
I got into bed at 3:30am this morning and now I have to go work at the farmers market?! Yes, sadly, it is true...
While I suffer, please enjoy this video of an Australian band called Ganga Giri, who performed last night.
And then, I have added a video of another performer from last night, Sukhawat Ali Khan and his amazing sufi band.
Rave on, people.
See you later, groannn!!!
**UPDATE**Ok the market's over, it was 95 degrees, totally exhausting...
BTW I heard from the runaway, and she is fine, having fun, but her butt is a little sore.
Have a lovely Monday, beautiful bloggy peeps!
Sukhawat Ali Kahn
Thursday, June 07, 2007
...because of you, it's ok to lie around naked on a polka dot duvet and call it art!
Let's check out another masterpiece.
Happy HNT everyone!
Monday, June 04, 2007
When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet.
I know that they support you, and that your sweet weight rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts, the doubled purple of your nipples, the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower.
But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.
...see you all for HNT
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Where it has been nearly a year since the barefoot mistress has lost 35 pounds and kept it off, I hereby declare that all granny panties be banished from this house forever, and from here on out, all undergarments shall appear as the ones pictured below: