Ha-ha! Tricked you into opening my blog!

I have to work tomorrow morning so this blog is going to be uber short and pointless.

Accomplished more than I expected to get done but not as much as I wanted to. I’m sure I was aiming too high anyway. Trying to accomplish things that I’ve been putting off for months now.

Attempted to make an apple crisp. Came out okay.

Attempted to make some iced tea using less bags than I usually use. Came out okay.

Didn’t get a chance to look into my potential Cali trip. That will have to wait until my next non-holiday off.

Fin.

Not Quite Hollywood: The Wild, Untold Story of Ozploitation! (2008)
★★★★ / ★★★★

I like to think of myself as an adventurous moviegoer so I’m on the constant lookout for movies that are vastly different from the mainstream. I’ve heard of the term “exploitation film” before (mainly from Quentin Tarantino because his movies often reference to that genre) but I never really knew what it really meant until I saw this film and did a bit of research about it. I really loved this documentary because I really learned a lot from it. I had no idea that Australia released all these cult classics, some of which have never been released in America. The way Australians made and released these daring movies in the 1970s and 1980s was so refreshing because nowadays, especially here in the United States, those kinds of movies are not made anymore. Once in a blue moon an exploitation flick (or a flick inspired from such like “Wolf Creek”) would be made but it was always under the radar no matter how good or bad it was. Speaking of good and bad, another thing that I loved about this documentary was it put the spotlight on good and bad movies alike and the people being interviewed explained why they thought a particular movie was good or bad (or sometimes even both). It fascinated me and I literally made a list of the movies wanted to check out. Some of them include “Mad Max” (1979), “Turkey Shoot” (1982), “Fairgame” (1985), “Dark Age” (1987), “Next of Kin” (1982), “Long Weekend” (1979), “Road Games” (1981), “Patrick” (1978), and others. The documentary, written and directed by Mark Hartley, was divided into several sections which started from movies about sex and nudity and ended with movies about car crashes and extreme violence. While it did cover a plethora of disparate motion pictures, I was also very impressed with the fact that it found enough time to discuss censorship (or lack thereof) in the era of Ozploitation. I wish this movement would repeat itself here in America because I’m starting to get sick of Hollywood trash being released in theaters weekly. Some days, I just want to see intense car chases with no real story but has a great sense of dialogue (like “Death Proof”) or even a movie about science gone wrong with buckets of blood on the side. Nowadays it’s all about the box office and watching this film really made me feel like the filmmakers wanted to make movies just because they were in love with the process–a reason why some of these exploitation films are so randomly original. I was so excited about the content of this movie, I decided to added some movies on my Netflix (the ones available in America anyway). I just want to see something so risqué and possibly something I can love and recommend to my friends when we don’t feel like going out and spending money.

Too risky, next...

Trop risqué, suivant…

From Dec 1st till Dec 31, a play ” Rejection” /Du 1er dec. au 31 dec. , une pièce “Refus”

Well… this is going to be a slightly naughty post. But me likes. I lost my 2 “toys” a while back. Don’t ask me how… I just don’t know where they are. But anyway, I was using StumbleUpon and came across something called The Toy, a bullet-like vibrator that is activated by text message using blue tooth! How it works is your partner sends you a message, and if you choose to read it then you receive different sorts of pulses depending on what he/she has typed. There are supposed to be up to “45 possible effects from any one letter”.

Now, don’t tell me that you’re not at least slightly interested… at least technologically. I’m trying to find reviews about it to see if anyone actually knows (first hand) about whether it works well or feels good at very least.

My artistic hero…

Egon Schiele (12 June 1890 – 31 October 1918)

Protégé of Gustav Klimt.  A major figurative painter of the early 20th century. Egon Schiele is known for being grotesque, erotic, pornographic, and disturbing, focusing on sex, death, and discovery. He focused on portraits of others as well as himself. In his later years, while he still worked often with nudes, they were done in a more realist fashion.

More of  this article at:www.absoluteastronomy.com/topics/Egon_Schiele

More images here:http://www.doc.ic.ac.uk/~svb/Schiele/

I don’t want to write about my personal life. I really don’t but it seems like the only thing I think about, no matter where I  am.

I cannot make a single wedding plan as of right now and it’s not because of money. I cannot fake a smile at work for longer than mere moments. I feel restless and uneasy all the time because the man that proposed to me is not acting like he’s engaged. Frankly, he’s hardly even acting like a boyfriend, more like a roommate that I just have sex with. No sooner did “she” creep back into the picture did he start spouting out phrases like, “It’s my life. I’ll do what I want.” It’s not just his life anymore. It hasn’t been for a while. It’s our life! When told how I perceive his recent actions, he excuses himself by saying that it doesn’t feel “real” to him yet, that when we start making plans it will begin to sink in. Excuses, excuses! He gets them from spending too much time on the phone with the queen of excuses herself.  (It’s not actually that much phone time, just more than they used to talk, which is enough to do damage.) Their so-called friendship was hanging by a thread this summer and I made the biggest mistake by stepping in and trying to convince them both that they ought to give it another try. “Don’t let a girl come between you, especially one that wants to see everything work out.” And what do I get for it? Bullshit! Two-faced, back-stabbing, crap! I regret that I said anything. I should’ve just let the inevitable happen sooner but noooo, I always gotta be the bigger person, the sweet one who wants everyone to have what they want. Fuck me! Stupid, stupid, stupid!!

Everything she does is only to make herself look good. Telling me and C, “sure, you can come audition at Risque’ and you can use me as a reference. I have no problem with that.” Only to turn around, bitch me out (cunningly, without the use of swear words) and claim she never made such an offer when I politely declined. She ought to admit the real reason she doesn’t want me there. She’s one of their poster girls and she’s obviously insecure about me stealing her thunder. (She ought to be.) Oh, sure, she says she’ll write me an apology but I’m sure she’s getting a kick out of knowing that she is causing me such frustration, thus straining the relationship which she doesn’t accept in the first place. Why doesn’t he see this?! Oh yeah, she’s on a higher pedestal, like every other twat he wishes he would’ve fucked when he had the chance. (You made your choices, babe. Don’t blame me.) Of course, she has a life, but she’s taking her good ol’ sweet time, as usual, to resolve anything, I’m sure, in hopes that I will flip my freakin’ lid and prove her right about me. Don’t think I’m clueless to the game. Please. I’ve seen in before, in high school locket rooms.

Go on! Call me obsessive! Wouldn’t you be, in my shoes, if your boyfriend pleasured himself to my sexy pics and told you all his sexual fantasies about me, then said he’s planning on flying cross country with me for a vacation? Oh, yeah. You probably wouldn’t put up with that shit, would you? Silly me. You don’t believe in relationships the way the rest of civilized society does. You think everyone should run about doing whatever and whoever they want and disregard that someday, it’s going to look pretty sad that you’re over 45, still stripping (whatever you want to call it) and never married. I hope to whatever higher powers are in control of this universe that you are not still a minute part of my life at that age because I will be laughing my ass off at you and I won’t be hiding it either.

Maçã do Amor da Risqué é o esmalte que eu mais amo! Ele é uma cor linda, vermelho metálico e dura bastante nas unhas.

Para um diferencial vale passar Rebu por cima, fica lindo demais!!

Gente eu sei que deve parecer loucura mas eu adorei msm essa cor. A nova moda de cores vibrantes vai pegar. A cor escolhida para passar essa semana foi a cor Menta da Impala!!! Detalhe pintei as unhas na quinta-feira dia 19 antes do feriado e o dia estava com um calor insuportável e eu havia passado 3 mãos de esmalte, dai a surpresa, bolinhas pra todos os lados e em todas as unhas, ai que raiva :X, tive que pintar as unhas 2 x, na segunda vez passei apenas 2 de mãos de esmalte e deu certo, olha só que graça:

A textura da Risque é um pouco melhor que a da Impala, na minha opinião, mas ambas são finas, talvez essa cor por ser mais escura tenha favorecido a Risque!!!

E então, o que acharam da cor ? Deixe a sua opinião no comentário!

J’ai longtemps hésité.  Je me suis beaucoup posé de questions. Pourtant, du fait de ma fonction et de mon lieu d’exercice, je n’aurais pas du m’interroger autant. Une infirmière qui bosse en pédiatrie et auprès d’insuffisants respiratoires fait parti des prioritaires à la vaccination antigrippe A.

Prioritaire… « Prioritaire parmi tous les autres » même qu’elle a dit ma ministre de la santé. Prioritaire pour protéger, pour soigner et pour promouvoir la santé. Oui, ok mais aujourd’hui, certainement pas prioritaire pour se faire intoxiquer. Intoxiquer : c’est ce à quoi j’ai pensé, c’est vrai les premiers temps, quand les gentils docteurs de mon unité sont venus me trouver pour me persuader d’aller me faire piquer en même temps qu’eux.

Ils ont bien essayé usant d’arguments sérieux, de statistiques et de chiffres alarmants sur la réalité de l’épidémie de grippe A. Ils m’ont parlé des morts, des syndromes de détresses respiratoires aigus qui affectaient même des personnes sans facteurs de risques.

Leur discours était bien rodé mais à chaque fois, ma réponse l’était tout autant : – comment avoir confiance dans un vaccin dont les firmes pharmaceutiques ont obtenues aux Etats-Unis d’être déchargées en cas de problème ? Et puis, utiliser des adjuvants et des conservateurs sans être vraiment certains de leur innocuité, ce n’est pas franchement se moquer de nous ? Se faire vacciner dans des centres  dédiés (en l’absence totale de règles d’hygiène dans la salle d’attente et en l’absence de mon médecin traitant qui me connaît bien et est capable de me vacciner d’habitude), cela ne défie pas toute logique ?

Franchement, tout cela n’était pas pour moi. Très loin de moi, sauf que…

Sauf, que je suis infirmière ! Bordel, je suis infirmière. Par ma fonction, j’expose ma famille au risque non négligeable de cette grippe A en la ramenant à mon domicile sans le vouloir. Pire encore pour moi, je risque par le biais des consultations de patients d’en contaminer un (nous sommes contagieux 24 heures avant l’apparition des premiers symptômes) et par ce fait, de l’envoyer potentiellement en réanimation. L’idée même d’être responsable d’une dégradation de l’un d’entre eux, je ne peux pas ! Bien sûr et je l’ai déjà dit ici, rien ne vaut les règles d’hygiène. J’aurais très bien pu protéger les patients et ma famille en portant sur mon lieu de travail mon masque en canard et en me lavant mes mains avec une intensité inégalée. Mais, l’idée du doute de contamination et la peur, elle-même, de la grippe A ont achevé de me faire changer d’avis.

Le critère majeur, celui qui a achevé de me convaincre est la situation préoccupante des services de réanimations parisiens qui s’interrogent sur les déprogrammations d’interventions pour libérer d’éventuels de places en réanimations. Moi, qui ai bossé en réanimation pédiatrique néonatale, c’est l’argument de poids. Le truc qui a eu le plus de poids. J’ai vu trop de gosses mourir en réa pour me dire que je risque d’en envoyer. Encore plus, s’il s’agit de la mienne. Je me suis donc fait vacciner, il y a quelques jours. Sans vraiment me sentir à l’aise, en lisant avec beaucoup d’attention la fiche d’informations et demandant à l’infirmière qui serait tenu pour responsable en cas d’effets indésirables survenant après cette vaccination.

A ce jour, ce qui m’inquiète le plus, en dehors du risque lié à la vaccination, c’est la gestion des jours à venir.

En effet, avec l’arrivée exponentielle de cette épidémie, les fermetures de classes qui augmentent, en dehors de tout impact médical, c’est l’impact économique qui m’interroge. Si la France reste  clouée au lit avec un syndrome grippal quelques jours, on fait quoi ? Si les infirmières qui bossent en réanimation et autres n’arrivent pas à faire garder leurs mômes, on fait comment ? Je n’ai pas souhaité l’apocalypse, on pourrait bien la voir venir.

Ce billet n’est pas sponsorisé par l’assurance maladie et ne sera pas ouvert aux commentaires. Ce billet n’est rempli que de mes impressions. Ceux que ce billet dérange peuvent me le dire à cette adresse : milliejolie@gmail.com.

Edit de fin de soirée:  parce que je ne suis pas la seule infirmière qui s’interroge allez lire celui-ci et encore mieux celui-là!

Entrée de Jussieu. La grille coulisse latéralement :

Le panneau rouge :

Sens de fonctionnement ou sens du risque

Vi uma chamada no portal MSN e quase chorei quando li a matéria toda no MSN Moda de Lilian Pacce. Quem nunca ficou imaginando de onde vinham os nomes dos esmaltes?

Pois o blog de Lilian Pacce veio acabar com nossas dúvidas. Eles falaram  com várias empresas e contaram quem dá nome as cores. Confere lá no blog, o link é esse aqui.

Via nomes como Deixa Beijar, Mini Saia, Samba Juliana, Ti Ti Ti e até Rebú e pensava quem seria a MENTE CRIATIVA por trás disso.

Alguns nomes são óbvios porque vem de coleções, como a Balneário Brasil da Impala e Sete Vermelhos Capitais da Risqué. Mas tem outros que não tem muita explicação, só mesmo o gosto pessoal do dono da empresa (como no caso dos esmaltes Cosmos e Sideral da Big Universo).

Já fora do Brasil, a OPI também é cheia de malandragem em dar nomes aos esmaltes. É muita criatividade minha gente. Sente só!

Já imaginou pedir para a manicure “Oi, hoje vou de Makes Men Blush” (algo como: Faz os homens ficarem vermelhos)?

Já com as coleções eles sempre fazem trocadilhos com nomes ou expressões temáticas. Na France Collection tem Bastille My Heart, I’m Fondue of You, Eiffel for this Color e Baguette Me Not. Já na da Espanha tem: No Spain No Gain e Give me Moor!.

Se eu pudesse dar nomes para uma coleção também ia fazer a louca e inventar uns bem malucos! Você não?

Esmaltes, eis uma coisa que mulher adoooora né? Também temos uma infinidade de cores liiindas pra escolher a cada semana!

A Colorama tá com uma coleção liiinda, tem vários tons diferentes de rosa, roxo, azul, amarelo, laranja.. e também ela lançou essa linha de única camada que é ótima mesmo.. além disso, tem cores q eu tô tentada em passar!

Nesse verão a Arezzo foi que estreiou nessa linha de cosméticos, lançando uma coleção de esmaltes (R$9,90 cada)!  As cores tão bem bonitas.. eu gostei!

Agora, o queridinho da estação é o Rosa.. assim como no desfile de Johan Galliano

Para variar heeh fiz as unhas domingo e estou postando hoje o esmalte da semana! uhuhu… vamos ver qual eh!

Tentativa de foto tematica hahaha…nao reparem….!! Lindo ne! Eh o Grao de Cafe da Risque!!!! Leeendo….!!

Espero q tenham gostado! Qual esmalte voces tem usado essa semana, me digam meninas!

La police au Burkina faso et un arrestation à risque!

http://www.break.com/usercontent/2007/1/Transit-Police-Sgt-fights-a-crackhead-204660.html

http://video.kamaz.fr/message-pour-la-prevention-routiere-du-burkina-faso-v2941.html

Tenho mais trés novos filhos na coleção!!! Adoooorow!

Geeeeente, todo mundo agora acha que eu sou ALOKA! ahahaha só pq compro um esmalte por dia! Imagiiiiiiiina benhê!

Tem mais esses que desejo mtoooo!

Gimme!

Risqué te dedico!

As per usual, Friday the 13th is proving to be a good day.  My missing model got back to me and Saturday’s shoot is a go.  Finalize some time details this afternoon and maybe squeeze an afternoon/evening shoot in as well.

Another model wants to shoot at her home, and lingerie at that.

A shoot coming up on Monday for some beautician types; makeup, hair and multiple models.  Oh ya.

Damn, I’m gonna have a pile of photos to process.

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Today we proudly present our first-ever reader-submitted piece, and it seems important to put it up before Halloween is too far from our memories.  This story is suggestive, so younger readers beware!  Mmm, chocolates. I know I’m still noshing naughtily on the candy I purchased at 50% off on November 2nd. So very bolus-worthy. How about you? –Mistress D.

CANDY KISSES by The Green M

***Flickering candlelight, torches. Grotesque faces toothily grin as you are seated at the table. Shadows, shades around you; the lights are dimmed. The show begins.***

One by one, or in pairs, deliciously attired, they begin their slow, seductive dance. Kiss in her silver cocoon, Mary Jane the schoolgirl who clings to you like peanut butter. Dove is dark, a chocolate girl. Her creamy skin suggests a deep, velvety sweetness within.

They move towards you, chanting and dancing, flashing the colors of their breakaway wrappers as they flirt around you, arousing you with their delicious odors. Butterscotch, in her translucent yellow wrap. Treasure, decked out in gold lamé. Bit o’ Honey, a tiny thing in a dark maillot. They flash through a field of candy corn, orange and yellow, as the candles burn around you.

“I’m Ruth,” one of them tells you. “They call me ‘Baby’ ‘cos I’m new. Bite me,” she says, as her white robe crinkles back and you stare at brown skin, ready to melt. She thrusts her tongue into your gaping mouth. She’s sweet; you taste chocolate and peanuts as she settles around you. With each swirl of chocolate over your tongue, you come closer to a high you barely remember. The more she swirls, the more you respond back, squeezing with your lips, teasing with your teeth and your cheeks, tasting her peanutty caramel sweetness, until finally you reach a moment of euphoria, when she has come entirely in to you. Amazed, you swallow, and she disappears.

You want more.

And the girls are waiting.

Despite the rush, you are ready to go again, unsatisfied with just that taste of chocolate and caramel. One by one, they come to you, peel back their wrappers, and thrust themselves upon you. At first you taste them, savor them, and regret when each one disappears — but soon you are so worked up and excited that you can’t get them fast enough. Your pace increases, and they keep coming at you — one, two, three, or more at a time, teasing with hints of sticky red sweetness and slippery brown cream, revealing themselves, and allowing themselves to be consumed.

Just when you think you can’t get enough of them, your head starts to pound. An alarm is going off in the distance, but growing louder. Is it the police? a raid? The candles burn so bright that you think the place is on fire. You scream, compounding the headache, and try to move as quickly as you can — but your limbs are lead and you’re tied down to that chair, thrashing and trying to escape…

“Are you OK?” you hear. The voice sounds familiar, but far away. It comes closer. You feel someone shaking you, but you can’t see anyone… You blink once, twice… finally on the third try, a fuzzy face appears.

“You’ve been beeping the last half hour.”

“Cripe. Let me see that.” You fumble for the source of the noise, digging through piles and piles of rumpled bits of cellophane and foil until your fingers find the rubbery oval casing. Carefully, you ease it out and try to read its display.

“Hi!” it says.

“Oh, $#!†!” you answer, trying to disentangle yourself from the pump tubing and find the controller without yanking out the set. Fat chance of doing that: the bloody end is dragging through that pile of detritus. Dried brown stains dot the sheets as you feel for the disconnected end through a mess of test-strip-shaped papers with the word “Hershey” written in blue block letters.

“I didn’t — did I?” you ask your companion.

Then you look across at the nightstand. The loot bag is empty.

***Trick or treat!***

Yves Parlier est passé en « mode furtif », mais dans quel intérêt?

Pour descendre vers le Sud (ce qui la solution la plus sure) ou naviguer vers le Nord (solution risquée puisque le vent est fort et la mer mouvementée)? On peut aujourd’hui affirmer que Yves Parlier a choisit le Nord et suis de près le britannique Alex Thomson. Apparemment il a fait le bon choix. Néanmoins, de nombreux marins ont choisi d’allonger leur voyage pour éviter l’obstacle.

En effet, la mer est agitée en ce moment. Preuve en est, Sébastien Josse et Jean-Foircois Cuzon ont déclanchés vendredi 13, la balise de détresse.

le figaro (page consultée le 13.11). BT en détresse, [en ligne]. Adresse URL http://www.lefigaro.fr/flash-actu/2009/11/13/01011-20091113FILSPO00442-bt-en-detresse.php

CLERC,Olivier (ouest france). transat Jacques Vabres le plus dur rest encore à venir, [en ligne]. Adresse URL http://www.ouestbateaux.com/actu_transat-jacques-vabre—le-plus-dur-reste-encore-a-venir_2861.htm

Le CSA (conseil supérieur de l’audiovisuel) lance une campagne de sensibilisation sur les dangers que représente la télévision pour les moins de 3 ans à l’occasion du vingtième anniversaire de la Convention internationale des droits de l’enfant. Dès le 20 novembre prochain, des slogans avertissant les parents seront diffusés à la télévision.
En effet, les professionnels de l’enfance (comme les pédopsychiatres) ont démontré que la télévision excite les enfants et freine leur apprentissage. Ainsi, inséré au début des programmes jeunesse, un icône indiquera ceux qui ne sont pas adaptés aux plus petits. Toutefois, à partir de 3 ans, la télévision peut stimuler et éveiller la curiosité et aiguise le sens visuel des enfants à condition qu’ils ne regardent que des programmes adaptés à leur âge.

POLITI, Caroline (page consultée le 13.11.09) “la télévision gène le developpement de l’enfant de moins de 3 ans”, [en ligne]. Adresse URL http://www.lexpress.fr/actualite/societe/education/la-television-gene-le-developpement-de-l-enfant-de-moins-de-3-ans_828125.html

SAEZ, Mathilde (page consultée le 13.11.09) “CSA: pas de télé avant l’âge de 3 ans”, [en ligne]. Adresse URL http://www.programme-tv.net/news-tv/culture-infos/7162-csa-pas-tele-avant-age-3-ans/#

So anyway, last week a girl I had talked to in the spring about a shoot left me an email asking to shoot.  I’m a sucker for a pretty face so I responded and eventually it was established to shoot on Nov 14.

Then I can’t get hold of her via email for a couple days, this doesn’t bode well I’m thinking.  Finally she replies and gets me her new phone number.  I’m getting along pretty good with her voicemail now, messages and texts remain unanswered.  Same for email.

Time to cut my losses, I mention in my Facebook status that I might be free and bingo, two interested parties.  Of course one is two hours east of me and the other one hour west.

What to do, what to do.