Dorothy and Toto land in a new world called OZ and are greeted by the Good Witch of the North, Glenda. …

Shopping store: buy cheap Munchkin & discount

Dorthy lands in Munchkin land

by ci39 (Category: Film & Animation)

I’m officially out of the blood donating business for a long time, I’m still anemic. That would explain the lack of legs on long rides and especially on hills, and the low cruise speeds. I’m still as strong as ever in sprints and up short hills where oxygen-carrying capacity is not the limiting factor, so the strength training has been working, I just lack the oxygen-carrying capacity to go the distance at tempo. meh. For people who have followed my blog from MySpace you know this problem first reared its ugly head summer of 2007 and made my ride at the HHH that year a fiasco, as little girls on BSO MTB with knobby tires passed me any time the road made a slight inclination against me and I had to SAG out at the first rest stop as my pulse wouldn’t come down and my BP went up drastically. Up until them I had been donating every 8-9 weeks, but I haven’t been able to get my counts up high enough since June of ‘07. I guess this would be a good time to get that tattoo.

Up first because something has to be, and because this was appropriate for the season, a bike race/food drive. An Outlaw Street Race, for a Good Cause Basically it’s a race, but to win the race you have to buy the major makings to a Thanksgiving dinner for donating to a food bank. The Witch on a Bicycle blog heartily supports such an endeavor. We’re real big on food around here.

The other US story was about a month old, but still has lessons to be learned. Bicyclist seriously injured in Bybee Blvd. collision Yeppers, it was a left cross wreck, one of the most common but fortunately one that is usually survivable, if you turn with the car to reduce the impact. that assumes of course you have time to recognize the impending wreck and decide if you can stop in time or need to turn, then institute the turning movements to reduce the angle of impact with the car. I’m not too good with that, but fortunately I don’t get that kind of wreck very often and so don’t have to make those decisions very often.

More on the cop v bicycle wreck in SD CA. ‘Ghost Bike’ Honors Cyclist I would really like to see that report from the CHP given all the facts that have come to light since the wreck, the years of experience of the cyclist, the safety gear worn by the cyclist, the lack of flashing lights or siren used by the cop on the way to assist a fellow officer, claims that the officer was at least keeping up with other motor vehicles in the near vicinity contrary to the claim the LEO was driving under the speed limit…

Cyclists are suing the city of Toronto for failing to keep the streets safe for their cycling employees, the bicycle police patrol and the bicycle paramedic squad, total of about 530 employees working the streets on bicycles. Law backs cyclist’s quest for safe roads If you can’t get then to do right by you as a taxpayer, make do right for their employees, and then they also do right for the taxpayers.

On a similar note, the family of a UK cyclist killed in London asks for better infrastructure for cyclists. Family of cyclist killed in crash call for improved safety Really it isn’t all that hard, you just have to decide that too many people are getting killed, and build the infrastructure to prevent that.

And the last story is from Oz, as a man riding home from work is run over by a co-worker (not the legendary cow orker). Cyclist injured At least they charged the driver with something more serious than failure to maintain lane position.

And that’s all I got tonight. Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy your meal tomorrow. Best wishes to our servicemen and women who are having Thanksgiving dinner in the chow hall or out in bivouac in the boonies. I’m thinking about you, and glad I’m not doing that anymore.

Billed @$.02, Opus

I have been doing some more pruning on the live oak out back and discovered we had some more damage from the tiny-nado last spring. We couldn’t hear it because of the wind noise, but one of the branches of the live oak was broken and laid over the other direction, but because we couldn’t see through all the small branches that sprouted since the last pruning nobody noticed. so after clearing out a huge number of branches to get to some deadwood I discovered that like half the tree was dead and sitting on top of the live part. And now it’s sitting in the driveway because it’s too big to move to the curb out front until it gets cut into smaller pieces. I’m going to tell the people at church that we have some U-Cut firewood sitting behind the house this Sunday, and if they don’t come get it by Tuesday it’s going to the curb Tuesday night. I think by then I will have recovered enough to actually be able to move that thing with some help. And now the Feed.

New Haven has injured another cyclist. Injured cyclist remains ‘stable’ Don’t read the comments, my head is “pre-exploded” so I can read that “stuff” without damage, you shouldn’t take that risk. The cyclist in this wreck was being harassed by the driver behind him when he rode into the oncoming lane of traffic. All I can say is no matter how bad the sub-human life form at the controls of the WMD aimed at you is behaving you have to watch where you’re going.

Kill a cyclist, and maybe get your hand slapped if you don’t stick around to leave your contact data. Man accused of leaving fatal accident scene faces trial Note that he faces no charges for hitting and killing the cyclist, just for leaving the scene without talking to the cops.

An English cyclist is killed riding the Americas. Islander killed in charity ride and from the Beeb Tributes paid to charity cyclist Even though the wreck happened in another country and is outside UK judicial jurisdiction, old habits are hard to break and the actual mode of the wreck is not to be found here.

What appears to be a hit-and-run on a cyclist in Gloustershire, which is somewhere in the UK from what I’ve been told. Gloucestershire cyclist injured in mystery incident The cyclist has no memory of the wreck, so good luck figuring out how this one happened.

And home of the famous smile without a cat… Ellesmere Port cyclist suffers serious injuries after collision The female motorist was not injured in the incident and is assisting police with their enquiries. Isn’t that just ducky? She’s helping the police. Wanna bet she’s lying like a rug as she “helps” the investigation?

Another wreck in the UK. Bas Clarke killed on A1 – Police seek witnesses to collision You have to watch out for those trucks, even when they’re not trying to hit you they have so many blind spots that they can kill you and the driver would never even notice he hit anything.

And from Oz comes the reports (finally) on the cyclist killed in the middle of the street by a tour bus. Tram tracks trapped cyclist’s wheel: inquest told and Tram tracks a trap for cyclists, police tell inquest and finally Bus travelleling slowly when cyclist killed, inquest told So, synopsis of the proceedings so far, the infrastructure was a deathtrap with less than 5 feet between the tram tracks to the right and the bus traffic to the left with the cyclists in the middle, and this particular one got her wheel trapped in the tracks trying to avoid a bus and fell into the path of the bus, so suddenly as to not give the driver time to react even though he was driving at a walking pace because of the congestion in the area. This is what we used to call a FUBAR in the Army. The situation has been rectified by removing the buses from the area and giving the entire left to cyclists and pedestrians.

I think that’s everything for today, if it ain’t I ain’t coming back to post more until tomorrow anyway.

Billed @$.02, Opus

Today I crossed a line I had promised myself I would never cross. I engaged a stranger in conversation on the Twitter about Law and Order: SVU.  And now I have to admit to myself that my interest in the show has become unhealthy and that I am a youtube video away from crazy.

I will admit, only on this blog that no one ever reads, that I enjoy cyber stalking obsessive SVU fans and reading their private conversations. (I now sound like I have a completely separate and equally dangerous problem.)  These are the people that post youtube videos, write fan fiction on various websites (which I have NEVER read) have SVU cast pictures as their avatars, and even go to the set and hang out. They have conversations over Twitter with crew members and forge these relationships, bonding  and fighting over the potential romantic pairings of the characters. They call themselves shippers. The term comes from the word relationship or worship, I don’t remember which. (See, I’m not completely crazy, I DON”T REMEMBER!)

My favorite cast member is Chris Meloni, aka Elliot.

Some of you may know him from the HBO show Oz, where we regularly got to see him naked.  We also regularly got to see men raped; it’s an incredibly violent show, but I’m telling you if that’s the price for Meloni full frontal, I am willing to pay.  (Want to see the pics? Check here: http://www.acropolisvideo.com/menofoz/  Your welcome.)

Now I’m all distracted, what was I saying?  Oh, yes, fan fiction and youtube videos.  I guess I realized something today.  I need to stay away from the Twitter while watching Law and Order: SVU marathons on USA. Yes, definately, that’s the lesson.

30 Years + I’ve Lost Count of the Days…

***

Yes.  That’s right.  I am not dead.

This is a lame apology to anyone who has still kept some hope alive that I would come back.  From quitting my job, to moving out of my place and becoming *technically* homeless and leaving the country for a month I’ve totally slacked on this blog.  I’m not proud of it.  The topsy-turvy turmoils of 30 year-old-hood are still alive and well and I will absolutely be back in a big, badass way very soon.  I’m out of the country until December 16th so between now and then I’ll try and get a few posts up (as I also have another blog that is travel-related in the current mix).

Please don’t give up on me.  Trust me.  I give great make-up…blogs.

Be back soon…

mano pow, as mina pá!

Atakcorp.Deviantart

Ok, people.  We made it to Sydney.  It was a long and wild ride, but as far as I can tell so far it’s worth the 14+ hour plane ride resulting in mild hysteria and major leg and derriere cramps.  Yes, I used the word derriere.

From now on I will do my best to blog every day so these entries don’t become novellas.  Thanks to jetlag and the extreme power outlet scarcity my poor laptop has been living on empty.

DAY -1 (or, Thursday, November 19^th on the American calendar)…

The tone of our travels from LA to Sydney was set the moment I keeled over like a tranquilized giraffe the first time I attempted to mount my enormous, stuffed REI backpack.  Granted I had only had 2 hours of sleep the night before due to my ill timed move out of my Santa Monica apartment and the only sustenance in my belly was half of a leftover Starbucks pumpkin scone.  Upon finding out the bag only weighed 33 pounds according to the LAX baggage scales…well, let’s just say my personal trainer I can no longer afford would not be so proud.

Jessica was over at my place at the time helping to load my car and take it to our friends’ place for storage.  Yes, I’m technically homeless right now.  In a good way, as I want no ties to hold me in any one place in the new year and, well…for those of you who know the “crazy Enrique” story…let’s just say the fact that I’m no longer sleeping at that address with a wooden bat and pepper spray within reaching distance of my bed is a wonderful thing.

Anyway…cracking up at my expense, little did Jess know this was just the beginning of our little travel adventures.

After a whirlwind drive in rush hour LA traffic to Moorpark and back we inhaled Carl’s Junior and homemade chocolate chip cookies from our friend Grace and barely made it to bon voyage drinks with good friends at Bar Chloe.  Seriously.  I practically handed the last bite of my cheeseburger to the valet.

It was a perfect, martini-kissed goodbye-for-now to my favorite west coasters and the City of Angels.

DAY 1 (Friday, November 20^th American)

I crashed on my dear friend Rupa’s couch.  Remember—I’m homeless.  After some brunch at TOAST, lots of girl talk, and a neighborhood walk with her pups Jess picked me up for some last minute travel errands.  Errands are boring for everyone, so I’ll skip that part—though, we did have a nagging suspicion we were royally screwed when we exchanged money from U.S. dollars to Aussie dollars.  We’re still not completely sure.  Hopefully we’ll figure that out by day 5 or 6.

Before heading to the airport Jess picked her bag up for the first time and I swear she almost fell flat on her face, as her bag was larger than her 5’2” frame.  If Jess were to get into a fight with her bag…the bag would win.  At least I had a few inches on mine.  I’d like to think I could take it.

Our flight was on Delta, obviously an American carrier, yet Jess thought we flew out of the Tom Bradley International terminal.  We quickly learned we were mistaken—after we parked the car at said wrong terminal—and so began our first backpacking trek two terminals down and our very serious vow to burn our awkward, friggin heavy bags the minute we unpack in the states.

Then came the self check-in where my passport scanned just fine, yet Jess’s would not.  At all.  Even with the help of two Delta employees.  I asked if she bought her passport off the black market, but she swears it’s legit.  We soon found out that even with self check-in you must stand in the long and winding regular check-in line anyway to get a baggage tag.  Awesome.  So over we both went to join what seemed like the rest of Los Angeles in line.  Luckily our flight time was creeping ever so close, so they pulled us Sydney folk out and finally we made it through check-in.

At security we met up with Jessica’s friend and fellow music biz colleague (we’ll call her Amy).  Amy is a fun force of wild energy to be reckoned with.  Major spray tanned from head to painted toe, the girl immediately joked at her expense that her boss told her colleague something like, “Please tell Amy there’s sun in Australia.”  I liked her immediately.

We were the last three people to board the plane, which made us super popular among our coach-riding neighbors.  It only got better when we whipped out the cameras.  I am ashamed to admit…we were “those girls”.

Some sleeping pills, in-flight movies, and boxed Australian red wine in plastic cups later, Amy and Jess were out cold…yet I was restless.  I watched another movie.  And another.  Then two travel shows (international flights are amazing with the individual seat TV’s chock full of film and TV options).  Did you know that in Singapore sucking mutton bone marrow is “chic”?  Well now we both do.  You’re welcome.

In total I slept in and out of at max three hours.  Next time I’m having what they had!  I felt like I had lived ten lives during that flight.

DAY 2 (Sunday, November 22^nd Aussie time)

Yeah.  We lost Saturday.  A very strange fact of flying to Oz life.

In baggage claim we almost got fined $5,000 for taking photos since it’s still considered part of customs.  Amy headed off with her Aussie best friend, while Jess and I waited for our fourth Sydney travel companion—Jessica’s younger brother’s girlfriend.  Let’s call her Karen.  Either Karen’s flight or Karen herself was late and Jess was ready to throw the voda phone/sim card we purchased out the airport window.  Apparently the instructions weren’t so clear.  After about an hour and a half of hanging out in an exit area coffee shop Karen finally arrived.  She left her suitcase halfway back in the airport and had to go back and get it.  By some miracle it was still there.  Clearly we were not in LA anymore, Toto.  This is not the first time Karen will leave something somewhere.

A $50 cab ride got us to our Bondi Beach Hostel, where apparently our generous tip made the cabbie’s day since tipping is rare in Australia.  Later we learned service sector workers get paid super well compared to the states, which is partially why things are more expensive here (especially with the terrible American dollar exchange rate these days).  The wage of a waiter is about $26/hour.  Why did I get my Masters degree again?

Our fourth hostel roommate turned out to be a lovely Italian girl whom we quickly befriended.  Amy is staying with her friends.  We unpacked and headed for a beach walk all along Bondi.  This is the Australia people rave about…

Did I mention it was a record high in both temperature and humidity?  100+ degrees Fahrenheit.  I’m not complaining…it was perfect for a day at the beach.  We even had a drink at the Icebergs, a famous Australian swim club by the sea, with Amy and her Aussie friends.

That evening we were so tired that we ordered pizza and dined on the rooftop deck.  I wish I had a picture…but I was too tired to remember to take one.  Let’s just say it was DIVINE.

We met some wonderful characters/fellow travelers.

Chris, a surfer from San Diego, divides his time between Australia and Indonesia.  He works two months out of the year saving every penny, then heads to Indonesia for the other 8 months and lives solely off his prior salary.  You can buy coconuts for 50 cents on the beaches of Indonesia—a budget traveler’s paradise.  I’m not talking Bali, by the way.  He spends most of his time on the remote island of Tenggara.

We also chatted with a lovely Canadian distant runner (who smoked?) who traveled to Australia for a big race.  Her husband, also a runner, was not able to leave his day job to join her so she spent the rest of the vaca jaunting around the country and even spending a week in Fiji.  One night she spent sleeping on the deck of an old pirate ship.

Hearing stories like this make it hard to go back to a 9 to 5 job in the states…

DAY 3 (Monday, November 23^rd, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, Aussie time)

Last night, sometime between 2-4 a.m., I woke to Karen whacking my foot from my peaceful, sweaty slumber.  As my jet-lagged eyelids fought to part I noticed that the lights were on.  And Karen was jumping up and down waving her hands like a drowning cartoon character signaling a lifeguard.  And…everything was SILENT.  What…the…

Oh.  Right.  I had ninja earplugs in.  Earplugs that so artfully killed the most random mix of world and bad pop music blaring from the hostel courtyard hours earlier that they even kept me from hearing the most god-awful fire alarm ever.  Jess also had a hard time realizing our lives might be in imminent danger thanks to some more Ambien she popped to get some shut-eye.  She could barely feel her limbs, let alone climb down the bunk bed and form complete sentences.

If there was a real, live fire…which at this point we had no reason to assume that there was NOT…we probably would’ve died.  We took our sweet time opening the room locker, finding our purses, and layering for any potential outside “weather.”  I mean when you are awake for about 48 hours, get to finally fall asleep, and then are yanked from that peaceful place just a few hours in…well, it all felt like a weird dream you could wake yourself up from.

Everyone in the hostel had to be evacuated.  The fire department, as well as an ambulance sped to the entryway.  Turns out there was no fire…but something did set off the alarms.  Our bet?  Someone (or some people) lit a joint or cigarette in their room…a big no, no in the hostel rulebook.  The Bondi Beach Hostel manager was not a happy camper.  We later found out today that this also happened just two weeks earlier.  I can only imagine the fines they’ve racked from careless backpackers.

As the mass of sleepy foreigners trudged back up the stairs to our respective rooms Jess and I joked…of course this happened to us on our first night.  But she also added that the same thing—a freak fire evacuation—happened on her first night of college at the University of Miami…and the next four years were pretty darn fabulous.  Not sure if it’s any kind of parallel omen about this trip, but I’ll take it!

This brings us to about 8 a.m. Monday morning.  Coming up next…Monday’s adventures in Sydney ground transportation and sailing Darling Harbor.  Today we’re heading to the zoo and The Rocks.

I’ll try and catch this blog up to speed by tonight!

Grrr…. gratis wifi op een vliegveld is nog steeds een droom ver weg!

Ik sta nu bij een ongemakkelijke internetzuil op Sydney Int. Airport. En iedereen hier checkt zijn Facebook, wel bizar om te zien.
De vlucht was ok, had wel wat meer verwacht van British Airways.. over een uur ga ik gelijk door naar Nieuw Zeeland! En ben best wel moe; 9 uur vanaf Bangkok, zometeen nog 3 uur vliegen en dan een middag in Christchurch en dan 4 uur in de bus naar Oamaru. Maar ik mag niet klagen!

Sydney vanuit het vliegtuig zag er cool uit! Wel wat frisser dan Bangkok en mistig maar dat komt ook omdat ik om 6.05 in de morgen ben geland. Ik ga zeker mijn ticket wijzigen om paar dagen “Australie” mee te pakken! En stempels verzamelen in mijn paspoort!! De mensen op het airport zijn in ieder geval vriendelijk.

Nu ga ik even water en snacks inslaan voor de volgende vlucht, en een ansichtkaart naar mijn opa sturen, want die deal heb ik immers gemaakt! Minstens 1 kaart vanuit elk land waar ik een vliegtuig uitstap.
En dan slapen, heel veel pogingen tot slapen onderweg!

(Appeared in the November issue 2009 Maxx-m published from Jakarta, Indonesia)

If I leave here tomorrow
would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on, now,
cause there’s too many places I’ve got to see.
But, if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn’t be the same.
Cause I’m as free as a bird now,
And this bird you cannot change.
Lord knows, I can’t change.

Lynyrd Skynyrd – Free Bird (Allen Collins & Ronnie Vanzant)

Sometimes when ennui takes hold and it feels like solitary confinement at the work desk I dash off for a night out on the town or village, as the case may be. Just the other day when such a moment presented itself I retreated to the bustling Jalan Monkey Forest which is dotted with restaurants, warungs and bars of all hues and prices.

Here amidst the cacophony of car horns, thundering motorcycles and eager beaver tourists trudging the footpath carrying plastic bags loaded with goodies is one of my favourite watering holes imaginatively named Laughing Buddha Bar. This small cosy place has a range of reasonably priced dishes on the menu and the ubiquitous Bintang on tap. But this is not why I haunt this place on Mondays and Thursdays whenever I am on the road. It is for the live music and the company of free birds from across the world.

So now that you have got the gist of the tale let us move onto the happenings of the other night.

Monday it is – washed out by the incessant rain. Dampness hangs heavy in the air as I walk into the gaily lit warung to be greeted by Ketut, the agile young lady whose smile and service is second to none. A quickie drinky, a Ramayana cigar stuffed in my face and a steaming Chorizo sausage in chilli with freshly baked baguette before me and I am content…till the music begins…then the looming spectre of the loneliness of a writer confronts me. I hastily chow down and move to speak to the band members gearing up for the shindig.

The group is called Bali Blues Brothers aka Mushroom Brothers (for obvious reasons).

“Hi Bli what are you doing fiddling with your guitar?” I ask Agung (slide guitarist and leader of the band).

“Tuning bro…tuning…it is an ancient Chinese art form,” he replies with a smile.

The band is – Manto (lead guitar & vocals), Dedy (keyboard), Rinto (bass), Niko (drums) and Agung (band leader and slide guitar).

Soon Bali Blues Brothers launch into a warm up number. A couple sit down opposite me and introduce themselves.

“Hi am Peter and this is my girlfriend Heather we’re from New South Wales do you mind if we join you”, the man asks.

“No worries set your selves down my friends”.

The place begins filling up with couples and singles. The loud chatter mingles delightfully with the music, everything seems right.

Just then she walks up to my table and sits down next to me without a word. After ordering a drink she turns to me and asks, “What’s your name, I see you around a lot”.

“Mark Useless, that’s what the Balinese call me”.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And what’s yours me lady”

“Yasmin. American but Lebanese born. Adopted.”

“And what are you doing all alone by the telephone”, I say pointing to the hand phone she carries in her hand, an appendage that has become a fashion accessory.

“Finding myself. Learning and yearning to be someone who can create something out of nothing…a meaningful life of sorts. I want to go back to Beirut to find my folks”, she replies distantly.

Suddenly the band belts out a James Brown number ‘Baby give it up or turn it a loose, Uh ha baby give it up or turn it a loose’. Everyone seems to be moving to the rhythm, cameras flash and my Oz friends are on the floor shaking spasmodically. Life suddenly becomes meaningful even for Yasmin. She smiles and we cheer with our drinks.

La Dolce Vita…Hidup Manis…what more can one say?

But the night is young and much is to follow.

In the interval when recorded music takes over and the couple from Oz are back at my table we talk.

“Is this your first time in Bali?” Yasmin asks the couple who appear to be in their mid-fifties.

“Nah we’ve been here before…but this is the first time we have been holidaying together after a gap of 32 years”.

“Could you repeat that please”, I ask.

“Actually Heather and I were in love 32 years ago. We drifted apart and then reconnected when I dropped by a garage sale and bumped into her. Love blossomed again and this time we are not going to lose each other,” he replies while holding his lover close to him.

Yasmin looks away as if to avoid the onset of tears. Heather puts her hand on Yasmin’s shoulder, two women connecting across cultures and time zones in Bali. The unsaid seems all pervasive. A momentary silence ensues which is quickly broken by yours truly who holds Yasmin’s hand and asks her, “So what do you do to pay the bills?”

“I teach small children because they seem so innocent and I can learn a lot from them. In fact I am here in Bali because one of my small students asked me where Bali is situated on the map. That is when I decided to take leave of absence from work and travel south of the equator to see for myself this island, to may be fill the emptiness that I feel – of not belonging. When my savings run out I will return not to Connecticut but Beirut to look for my real family”, she says pulling her hand away from mine and seeking solace in her mojito.

The place keeps filling up and customers are spilling onto the sidewalk.

I invite Agung to our table and introduce my new best friends to him.

Agung is bald and I suppose this is a plus point with the nubile nymphets that congregate at this dig. An unassuming chap he prefers to talk in Balinese with his friends, though ‘Inggris’ music is the way to go to make ends meet. He is married to Nina, an English lady and has a seven year old son, Narayan. He believes music is the only language that connects religions, peoples and cultures…the medium being the massage!

Everyone appears to be talking at the same time. Heather and Peter are lost in their wonderful world of love. Yasmin is animatedly conversing with all and sundry while Agung and I discuss the pros and cons of the traffic flow in Ubud. The picture is one of realism framed on a Monday night on Jalan Monkey Forest.

Agung returns to play with his mates. Live music fills the place once again and the crowd comes closer together…a bonhomie that reflects a truth…that people whoever they may be long for peace, love and happiness, of course spiced by good music. And where else can they find this but in Bali, Indonesia.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om

The eighties gave us theatre-to-film musicales without the need of sexy and beautiful stars like Chicago or Moulin Rouge. A campy-feel, a talking plant, and a crazy dentist mixing it all up with upbeat music is still a good film for us living in the world of superficial beauty and CGI. And using Rick Moranis for the lead role of Seymour Krelborn, seals the deal.

Basically, the story takes place on a flower / plant shop that ends up having a man-eating plant as its main attraction. It shows the moral dilemma of Krelborn on whether he would feed the plant or not.

I have a great respect to the films of the eighties; especially the ones shown in the middle of that decade. Even if they provide topless scenes, such as in one of those Revenge Of The Nerds films, it is not actually necessary since they don’t put importance on nudity. And if this film is sold to the consumers today, I’m sure they’ll be asking a little skin to whoever will take the role of Audrey.

That’s why this film is great. It embarked on the comedy, horror, and musicale genre. The director, Frank Oz, gave us a good lead with Moranis (Honey I Shrunk The Kids) and a good villain Steve Martin (Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band). Oz also provided us good cameo appearances from the great comedians of the eighties with the likes of James Belushi, John Candy, and Bill Murray.

I was informed that the original theater story’s final scenes, which I was able to catch in one of that Shang-rila Repertoire plays featuring Aiza Seguerra, were changed after shown in a test audience. Given the original idea and the fact that eighties films are being remade one after another then they could just use the storyline that wasn’t shown to us.

For the sole and simple reason that films like this shouldn’t be deposit to the “remake” queue. Such film is actually good as it is.

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Krim anti kerut yang sekarang tersedia untuk digunakan oleh orang-orang yang ingin menghilangkan garis-garis ini di bawah mata dan kerutan di dahi. Tapi karena ada kesibukan produk itu adalah tugas Hercules untuk memilih yang terbaik. Jadi kita harus melakukan sedikit riset adil sebelum pergi untuk suatu produk. Menurut Dr Oz terbaik produk anti aging adalah orang-orang yang memiliki ekstrak alami anggur merah Matrixyl dan asam lemak esensial lainnya untuk meningkatkan mengencangkan kulit.

Completely Alam

Menurut penelitian terbaru yang dilakukan oleh dermatologis terkemuka perusahaan Dermacai adalah yang terbaik krim anti penuaan sampai tanggal. Alasannya karena efek telah di Cdma 1x Usb Modem kulit pada contoh pertama itu sendiri. Anda dapat merasakan aura krim dan tindakan hampir Cdma Usb Modem seketika. Tapi Anda mungkin harus menunggu selama dua hingga tiga minggu untuk keajaiban terjadi.

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]]> http://friedsnickers.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/wave-gotik-treffen-lets-go/ Thu, 19 Nov 2009 02:32:53 +0000 Sarah http://friedsnickers.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/wave-gotik-treffen-lets-go/

I’ve wanted to go to Europe for a very long time. I find myself becoming extremely jealous when I hear other people’s tales of backpacking and European adventures. Oz and I often discuss going to Scotland so he can visit his home country — his mother’s maiden name is Dewar, as in Dewar’s scotch whiskey.

It was a strange morning, yet kind of normal for us. We listened to Darkwave, VNV Nation, and Johnny Vicious house mixes while I made breakfast. Then, Oz brought up Wave Gotik Treffen, the world’s largest festival for “dark culture,” which takes place in Leipzig, Germany every May 21-24.

Upon first glance, it looks like a Hot Topic festival.

Smiles: a rare thing at WGT.

But this is the real deal, folks.

At Wave Gotik Treffen, there are a variety of people. From Victorian Goths to gutter punks, to steampunks, there’s a little something for everyone. But it’s not just about the clothes and make-up, it’s about the music. WGT offers more than 150 bands and artists from various backgrounds  such as Gothic rock, EBM, Industrial, Noise, Darkwave, Neofolk, Neoclassical, Medieval Music, Experimental, Gothic metal, Deathrock and Punk.

Oz and I are both kind of scared of the festival, but we’re also very intrigued. I’d love to go experience something completely different like that, if only for the fact that I could blog about it after. Plus, Oz looks great in eyeliner.

After reading so many reports on drivers that don’t know the laws on how to drive their cars (there were a lot of car wrecks in the Feed this morning that had nothing to do with bicycles) I have come to the conclusion that either we need to have recurring testing for drivers with a zero tolerance passing standard, or drastically need to increase the PSAs for new laws that are passed for driving. There are just so many people that don’t know how to drive their WMDs within the laws, and who kill or seriously injure other people in the process. Something has to be done. The only other alternative would be to make killing or injuring someone while breaking a traffic law a felony, so that some legal bite could be applied to drivers, and so that LEO could get clear direction about the seriousness of motor vehicle crime.

Up first because there were more than one report on the wreck is a story out of AZ about a possible right hook of a cyclist by a garbage truck. 23-year-old cyclist killed in traffic collision identified and a later report Cyclist dies in collision The media outlet placed a copy of the AZ statute on making turns in the second article to demonstrate the level of care required by law to make a right turn. Many of the comments displayed a shocking lack of concern about the law as it stood and tried to substitute their own anti-cyclist interpretations (the cyclist deserved to be hit because he was there). I’ll continue to keep an ocular opened in this direction for more news.

More proof that gang-bangers are stupid. Cyclist killed in Norwalk, gunman sought See what I mean? They are in control of the perfect murder weapon, all they have to do is run the guy over and then claim he swerved in front of them, and the cops will believe it even after the heated argument if the cyclist is dead. Actually I don’t know which group is more stupid, gang-bangers or cops.

Speaking of stupid cops… Police Cracking Down On Rogue Cyclists Two pedestrians killed in one year and the politicians and the cops go nuts over “rogue cyclists” but how many pedestrians are killed in a month by motor vehicles without a similar crackdown? I won’t say that this was a waste of resources, because there are an awful lot of cyclists that were never taught the laws, but I think a similar effort every time a cyclist or pedestrian is killed by a motor vehicle would also be a good idea. Massive traffic enforcement after every fatality has a proven effect on lowering the fatality rate.

The cyclist from Oz that crippled a team mate while driving drunk loses his appeal of his sentence. Cycling-Australian mountain biker loses appeal against jail term No sympathy from me, as a cyclist he should have known better.

Cycling News has an article about Dave Zabriskie’s campaign to reduce car/bike wrecks in their daily blotter report. First Edition Cycling News, Wednesday, November 18, 2009 The Zabriskie article is second down the list.

Not a cycling specific story but if you wind up on one of my posts this will be valuable information to have. Injured Uninsured More Likely to Die in ER than Insured Yeah, when you wake up (if you wake up) in the ER you stand a better chance of survival if there is some kind of insurance covering you, which makes hit-and-run just that much worse. That is why there needs to be federal level laws that cover against hit-and-run.

More on distracted driving and infrastructure. Breakfast links: Consequences of distracted driving, biking Yeah, some doubleplusungood things going down here. For those who haven’t read 1984 that means very very bad.

Infrastructure in suburban LA. Two wheels and the future They are facing a monster of Hobson’s Choice there, can’t afford to go it, but can’t afford to not do it either. Not building bicycle infrastructure will cost them millions in increased medical costs and lost productivity from traffic jams, while building will also cost millions to build and maintain. I say go in the direction of increased happiness and health when faced with this dilemma.

And infrastructure in Jolly Olde. Convex Mirrors to be trialled on cycle super highways Given the huge number of cyclists killed, well actually not huge in absolute numbers but in proportion to other modes of fatality, killed by large vehicles turning left at stoplights (right cross for those of us driving on the right side of the roads), this is potentially a major invention. Trucks and buses turning over stationary cyclists at stop signs and lights are a major mode of cyclist fatality in London.

And that’s all I have this morning.

Billed @$.02, Opus

Blessed be copyright.  Without it we would be in a sea of cheap rip offs that you are tricked into buying (although this happens anyway).  Artists everywhere would find themselves destitute unable to support themselves due the swathes of people choosing to buy cheap knock offs rather than the original.  But what of the people with no imagination?  Fear not, for copyright can only last so long after an artist’s death and when this occurs you are free to use the prose as you like, within reason.  For this reason we get ‘Pride and Prejudice and Zombies’ as well as different ‘Sherlock Holmes’ adaptations.  ‘Alice in Wonderland’ is periodically reimagined, as is the L Frank Baum ‘Oz’ series.  Could the latest adaptation of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ add anything to the cannon?

DJ is a modern day girl who lives with her parents on a farm in Kansas.  She dreams of something bigger and wants to be an artist.  Her wandering spirit is sated when suddenly a Twister appears and some men attack the house.  These men are from another land called ‘The Outer Zone’ and are after DJ.  Sucked into a new world DJ finds herself hunted by an evil witch who believes a prophecy of power is about to come true.  On her travels DJ meets a man who has half of his brain removed, an ex-police officer who has lost his compassion and a psychic lion man whose life of terror has left him scared of his own shadow.  Can DJ and friends follow the old road out of the Outer Zone to save the world?

After watching the brilliant ‘The Lost Room’ I was very much looking forward to another miniseries from the American Sci Fi channel.  They are a cable channel who reinvests their profits into new productions that they can show on their network and profit from on DVD/BluRay.  With a modest budget, in terms of feature films, the Sci Fi channel are rich compared to other TV shows bringing with them a more expensive cast list and more special effects.  With this in mind ‘The Tin Man’ has some great potential.  With around 270 minutes to tell a story they had the space to let it breath, the budget could cover some good special effects and the cast included Zooey Deschanel, Alan Cumming and Richard Dreyfus; all more used to the big screen.  How could it go wrong?

Everywhere is turns out.  Firstly on a positive note Deschanel has not sullied her career too much as she is able to work well with a limited script.  In fact, the cast as a whole do a decent job with what is a bizarre premise.  Dreyfuss even went onto win a TV Emmy for his portrayal of the wizard – undeserving perhaps as he is hardly in the film and does not stand out.  Other aspects that work are some of the mishmash of ideas.  Transporting the idea of ‘Oz’ into the future should be a good one and giving the various characters science fiction twists on their failings should also work.  However, it is here that  the problems start to appear and you wonder if someone had the thought of ‘The Outer Zone’ sounding like ‘Oz’ and then wrote a script around the one loose idea.

This miniseries is a shambles on many levels; there is a glut of ideas and hardly any of them are realised well.  The very token of efforts is made to link the show to Baum’s books and instead they bastardise it for their own needs plucking the most obvious visual elements in an attempt to appease fans.  The original story is not the most complex; girl arrives in strange place, meets some people, finds wizards, melts witch – goes home.  ‘Tin Man’ attempts this, but is bizarrely complex and sluggish about it.  The characters dart around the entire planet and come across poor special effect after poor special effect.  I could forgive the limited story, poor special effects and sacrilege of the text, but it is so boring! 

What then of the Tin Man himself?  This is a reference to the ex-policeman character who is discovered by DJ locked in a metal suit being forced to rewatch the same scene of his wife and child dying.  This is a bleak idea, but an interesting one.  However, like the show as a whole it appears that it is all ideas and no substance.  Moments of ingenuity appear, only to be wasted with a tired script and lazy dialogue.  If you are going to reuse ‘Oz’ you may as well copy it close enough to be worthwhile.

To compound the limited nature of the show the BluRay does it no favours at all.  High Definition is an unforgiving mistress and she expects only the best.  Treat her well and she will show delights beyond your fragile imagination.  Treat her wrong and be prepared to face a sight that looks so hideous that it fell out of the ugly tree and struck every branch on the way down.  With a limited budget the special effects in ‘Tin Man’ are CGI heavy and cheap looking.  In BluRay this is highlighted to the extreme and they look shocking.  I can forgive this as with too little money what can a person do?  Direct the show well!  The directors have created a stodgy miniseries that shoots close up a lot of the time.  This is to prevent the need for costly special effects should anything be occurring in the background.  Large parts of the show are set in the woods and as a rule these do look good in HD, just not when a rubbish CGI monster is running through them.

Overly long, confused and boring ‘Tin Man’ has single handily destroyed the reputation that the Sci Fi network gained with me for ‘The Lost Room’.  Even with a strong cast the show was unable to be better than an episode of ‘The Legendary Journeys of Hercules’.  Cheap special effects are somewhat forgivable on TV, but in HD they are highlighted to the extreme.  What are not forgivable are poor direction and a story that consists of a few random ideas haphazardly linked together.  I would not even recommend this to science fiction fans.

Year:                2007

Cert:                 12

Starring:            Zooey Deschanel, Alan Cumming, Richard Dreyfuss et al.

Price:                Amazon uk       £6.98 (BluRay)

                        Play.com          £11.99 (BluRay)                   

Extras

No extras and a BluRay transfer that only highlights the problem areas …

Litterbury is currently reading The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy which was given to him as a gift.

I’m also just going into some of the original Oz books by L. Frank Baum.  I’d previously read the first 4, but I decided to skip 5 and moved onto 6, The Emerald City of Oz, and I ended up skipping 7 and just received 8, Tik Tok of Oz, from Amazon.  I normally wouldn’t be so sporadic, but I’m actually collecting the facsimile editions put out by Books Of Wonder (they are gorgeous!)  and am picking and choosing what interests me as I scrape together any available cash.  The maps of Oz on Tik Tok’s endpapers were what sent it over for me.

On a side note, I’m in kind of an Ozzy mood right now and not because of the new DVD of the MGM musical, but because I just watched the Tin Man miniseries on DVD.  It was good (decent?), but it was no Return to Oz, a.k.a., the best Oz film ever.  I might have further things to say on all of that later.  Pending!

I also recently acquired a second Edith Wharton book from the Library of America.  I already had the selected novels, and have read two out of four (House of Mirth, The Reef; both of which were extraordinary), but I received Novellas and Other writings for my birthday and I just read Madame de Treymes;  impeccably written as usual.  Wharton might be one of the best authors I’ve ever read.  She is damn good.

Another recent acquisition was the newly published edition of The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas from Everyman’s Library.  I’m probably not going to read it, as I read the newer, updated and restored translation by Robin Buss from Penguin; all roughly 1250 pages of it.  I had read an abridged version in the past from Signet (years ago, sixth grade?), but I now realize how very butchered it was.  The Buss translation is a real stunner, and I cried through quite a bit of it.  That actually surprised me because I remember liking the book for it’s adventure, but felt it lacked the emotional depth and warmth that had so endeared me to my beloved Musketeers.  That was clearly an effect from the butchering.  So, the Buss translation is the one to have, but I felt compelled to have Edmond on acid-free paper with a ribbon marker for safe-keeping.  He does look handsome on the shelf!

I also received a very special present of another Monte Cristo copy, this one being from the Collector’s Library from Barnes and Noble.  It’s tiny! And not just because it’s an abridged cut, but that it’s only a few inches by a few inches.  Nice detailing on it though, with ribbon marker, gold top-stain and an embossed publishing stamp on the front of it’s hardcover, and it features custom publishers endpapers and a little dust-jacket.  Too much Dumas is never enough.

I also received the LOA edition of F. Scott Fitzgerald but have not started it yet.  I’ve read The Great Gatsby twice and each time I’ve failed to see why everyone ohh’s and ahh’s over it; I think it’s a bit overrated if you ask me.  I did once get about halfway through This Side of Paradise (7th grade) but quit, which I’m not sure why because I remember loving it and marveling at how it was so much better than Gatsby.  Bear in mind, I think Gatsby is fantastic as a time capsule of a compelling era, and I appreciated the sexuality of the book in regards to the scene of two guys in bed together (despite the fact that it flies over everyone’s head; even mine the first time I read it!), but I take real issue with any book that is so wildly overblown, and given it’s lorded over reputation, and the fact that it makes every high school graduate’s list of favorite books of all time, I delight is skewering it.

EDIT: spelling; “their” and “they are” are obviously different!

“Regular” – HA!

Well, you’ve waited long enough.  I promised myself I’d put up a new picture of Raptor Jesus every week and I have failed on that promise.  But, as Beecher on OZ would say “the good thing about breaking a promise to yourself is that only one person gets hurt.”

But I apologize to you all.

And so, without further ado, here is Jesus riding a dinosaur, surrounded by battling unicorns.

And here are a few more little updates about what’s been going on with me, if you’re interested:

-This morning I woke up at 9:45 and by 10:00 I was already out the door on my way to Best Buy to buy the new Them Crooked Vultures CD that came out today and is totally KICK ASS.  Seriously, go buy this album right now.  Josh Homme from QOTSA, Dave Grohl on drums (just like the Nirvana days) and John Paul Jones (you know, from that little band… what was it… “Led” something?)  Seriously, it rocks hardcore and you need a copy.

-There are two shows I am addicted to and they both have a lot in common.  Namely: actors.  The shows are OZ, the prison drama on HBO, and Law & Order: SVU.  Tuesday is my day off from school and, luckily, it’s also the day on which USA airs its all-day SVU marathon.  WHOOPEE!!!  That show is so dramatic and intense and I LOVE IT.  It also stars Chris Meloni, who played Chris Keller on OZ from seasons 2 to 6.  OZ is also very addictive.  I recommend going out and renting it on DVD – you’ll be blown away.  It’s dramatic, violent… everything a girl could ask for.    And it has a lot of Chris Meloni in skin-tight shirts, if you’re in to that sort of thing (which I am, thankyouverymuch).  To see Meloni go from playing a bisexual psychopathic killer in OZ to a guy who hunts down psycopathic killers on SVU is really awesome.  He maintains the same sort of intense presense and no-nonsense attitude, and that is why I find him so very appealing.  GO WATCH ‘EM!

I know it's corny... but thank God for this picture.

We had some ugly wrecks in the Feed today, which is not to imply that there are ever any pretty ones, just more or less ugly. Today we had some that were very ugly indeed.

The worst of those was a cyclist/pedestrian wreck with a little boy and a hit-and-run cyclist. Boy injured by alleged hit-and-run cyclist Don’t hit the pedestrians, if you do hit the pedestrians don’t leave until contact information has been exchanged and/or the pedestrian has been transported by medical caregivers. Or until you are transported, because bicycle/pedestrian wrecks are one of the few modalities that allow pedestrians to give as well as they get. But, don’t hit the pedestrians.

And this one was ugly because of a lack of information. Cyclist Killed By Car OK all we know at this point was the car hit the kid on the bicycle, it wasn’t a hit-and-run and the driver will get away with it.

Another SWSS in WA state. Bicyclist killed in collision with tow truck and Leavenworth bike rider killed in collision Interesting how the cyclist turned left but still got hit on the shoulder of the road… For those trying to avoid a similar wreck, use hit-from-behind protocols posted elsewhere in my blog. Use “protocol” as your main search term.

And more multiple reports of the man killed on US 23 in OH. Crash kills Piketon bicycle rider on U.S. 23 and Cyclist struck, killed in Ross County Another hit-from-behind wreck, what was once the most rare of wrecks is still pretty rare but extremely fatal as cars are going faster and drivers pay less attention to things outside the car.

A wreck caused by bad infrastructure in MA. Cyclist dies from Rt. 2 crash The cyclist hit a hole that was either unmarked or poorly marked and partially hidden by fallen leaves. The fact that the cyclist was riding on a sidewalk is not germaine to this particular case as leaves pile up on streets and roads as well as on sidewalks and there are utility access panels on streets as well.

This is an interesting wreck. Cyclist hurt in smash with car in Solihull I wonder what made the car overturn and was the car in the act of overturning before or after it hit the cyclist? This could have been a very interesting story had it happened outside the UK.

Another hit-and-run cyclist, but with a twist. WALTHAMSTOW: Injured artist calls for change to “dangerous” road layout The victim never saw the cyclist before the wreck, and from the article the cyclist never saw the victim, and the victim is blaming the infrastructure rather than the cyclist. Presumably the sight lines were such that a cyclist would be screened from pedestrian view and vice versa and cyclists would be therefore intent on oncoming traffic from the left rather than expecting a pedestrian from the right.

A report on the death last year of an Australian cyclist. Cyclist saw Swanston St rider fall to her death Heavy bicycle traffic and streetcar tracks, and adjacent bus traffic equals dead cyclist. Not a pretty equation, and to be right next to it would be horrific.

Another bike ride to honor another cyclist murdered by a driver. Cyclists Honor One Of Their Own There have been too many of these rides lately, even one is too many. Something must be done so that cyclists can ride without drivers trying to kill them.

And that’s all I have for you this day.

Billed @$.02, Opus

I’m going to say it again and I know you hate it, but I have to say it again: You should definitely sign this, even if it’s just to try and get me to shut up; if you love me or even if you hate me, sign this and pass it on please!

Se vocês pensaram que OZ é devido ao seriado da tv.

Seriado de Tv - OZ

Ou devido a história infantil que virou filme?

Mundo Mágico de Oz

Vou apresentar mais um significado para vocês.
Oz é como as pessoas costumam chamar a Austrália. Isso devido a sua pronuncia. “Ozstralia” pelos australianos.
Australia -> “Ozstralia”
Australiano -> “Aussie” -> “ozzie”

Fica a dica, os australianos gostam de encurtar as palavras, mais detalhes darei em breve!

I don’t have a thing to say today except that I’m cold, I foresee myself getting colder, and I’m already praying for spring, so I went into my stash of handwritten journals to find an entry that is suitable for this snowy day. 

I wrote this shortly after moving here a few years ago.

*********************

The area I’ve moved to is known for harboring eccentrics.  In the summer, the roads are often congested by recreational vehicles full of tourists from Iowa (I think all tourists are from Iowa even when they are not) travelling no more, and no less, than 32.5 mph so that they can stare at the most colorful of the natives.  (My personal favorite is the old man who dresses like Pinocchio and juggles as he walks back and forth in front of his puppet shop.)

The natives depend on the tourists as most of them either own, or are employed by, the small shops featuring things like handcrafted guitars and dulcimers, handblown glass, medieval clothing, occult and New Age texts, herbs and spices – you know the type of town I’m speaking of.  You might even be wearing the handcrafted silver cuff bracelet or tie-dyed pajamas you bought there now.  (You are, aren’t you?  Are you from Iowa by any chance?)

I thought, at first, that the eccentricity was an affectation employed solely to ply their trades, but I’ve since learned that most of them have established permanent residences in Oz.  Whether they began this way, or became what they are after wearing the suit for so long isn’t clear, but its true to say most of my neighbors are as colorful as the parrots in the Amazon.  Beside them, I’m the small, pale ghost slipping around, and beside, them.

I was walking in the new snow this morning.  I heard a snowmobile coming up behind me, and I turned to see an elderly couple wearing boots, gloves, hats, scarves, and nothing else go past me.  They were laughing like children, and thoroughly delighted with themselves.  I filed it in my “Thought I’d Seen Everything” bin, and watched them disappear over a small hill.

Will I ever have the courage (or thick enough skin) to snowmobile naked?  Will I ever want to?  I look around inside myself trying to find something I want to do that is exceptional, even a little odd, and I come up empty-handed.  It’s not that I want to be different because I crave attention – I’m willing to adopt a solitary sandbox of weirdness to play in – it’s a matter of wondering if I have an underfed parrot somewhere inside me at all.

I don’t think I’ll ever want to snowmobile naked, but I’d like to be the kind of person who would do it, laughing like a child, if I ever did want to.

I am passive eyes and ears.  I observe.  I listen.  Perhaps that’s my role – what I do – but I’d like to take part one day as well.

Wonder if I look hot in a scarf?  Hmmm…..