Monday, October 4, 2010

I Got Hurt Feelings

This is a poem I wrote after my mother decided to return the fake flowers I bought her for her birthday. It's dedicated to anyone who's ever figuratively wrapped their heart in a present and had their gift returned for a better present or store credit or just given away. It hurts you heartless harpie!

Happy birthday Mum, happy birthday Mother.
This year I hoped to buy you a present like no other.

Every year since I was wee, I've bought you something you think is shit.
Why don't you ever listen to that CD I bought you last year, Robbie William's Greatest Hits?
Don't you like Robbie Williams? You told me you do.

And every year, Dad gave me money so I could make your special day sunny.
But not this year no, I payed myself.
Yes, I took a loan, no money for drinks, you overestimate my wealth.

I even suprised you at work in front of your friends,
Do you know what kind of message that sends? (It's love.)

But after you saw the flowers and learned the cost
You sighed and shook your head; my words were lost.
Perhaps I was wrong to think you like fake flowers.
Don't you like fake flowers? You told me you do.

And then you said perhaps I should have bought you jewellery from that shop.
"You know that shop in Myer? 70% off!" Ok that's enough I get that you hate my gift, just stop.
At least pretend to like them, just for a little bit.
Just long enough so that I don't feel like shit.
At least return them behind my back, not to my face.
Why to my face? Why to my face?

You trampled my heart when you (metaphorically) trampled those flowers, lucky they were fake and still in shape.
Because unlike my heart, they won't need to be mended using sticky tape.

Figure 1: My heart.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I have no plans to eat anyone..

Where the Wild Things Are may have already got a mention, but i feel it is so beautiful it deserves its own post. It is one of the most amazing films I have ever had the pleasure to see, so much so that i cry every time i watch it, and even cried when someone mentioned the word "king," and i thought of Carols sobbing face.

There is really and edge to this film. Although the book has very few words, the director is able to create a masterpiece that incorporates the exact essence that the love for this childhood classic has stemed from.
Spike Jonze captures not only the beauty of a childs imagination but the isolation and darkness also..

If you havent seen it, shame on you...
It's simply lovely, to say the least.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Diamond Necklaces and Leather Jackets

Probably the hottest couple ever. I wish Kate Moss still dressed like how she did back then. In my opinion, she's pretty much the pioneer for the simple 90's heroin chic fashion. It's a different kind of grundge, a much cooler one to the dirty look Lindsay Lohan/Taylor Momsen are selling today. Kate Moss still looks cool and grundge but she does it without the dark eye make-up and ripped stockings, she looks clean and fresh with her waif like appearence and scraggly hair. There's also a great contrast between Johnny Depp and Kate Moss' looks which I really like. While she wears a diamond necklace, or a lovely dress he's wearing a leather jacket/looking like a hobo. I guess she brings something elegant and he brings something badass into the look. It just works really well and makes the other look seem that much cooler.

Their babies could have stopped wars. But Vanessa Paradis is pretty cute.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

I've run out of things to say so I'll show you these instead.

Because my fingers get lonely
Because we're getting married
Because it soothes dry lips and its pocket size

Because I was trying to save money
Because you know shits going down when a party popper goes off

Because I want a damn pet but I'm not capable

Because my Baba made them

Because they make junk look bitchin

Because washing the dishes has made the skin on my hands peel and overpriced handcream its meant to help
Because it's what my mother taught me
Just one last time

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Sunday, September 5, 2010

"Her words against the winds."

Elegant and charming, she tilts her dainty head at the perfect angle for the sunlight to catch the golden specks of her playful, brown eyes. Laughing in the face of a threatening cloud, she turns slowly and walks down a windy foot path. The light breeze caresses her neck and plays with her hair, as if trying to seduce her in to following it, wherever this free wind may take her. The seduction ceases, or is at least ignored, at the sight of her other half, sprawled out on a picnic rug, one arm over his pushbike and the other free to take her needy hand.

And this is the way the world should end.

If time was to stop forever.

Like the free wind, time moves too slowly, too quickly, too lightly, too roughly. One can never be sure of the wind.
She finds herself again, years later, successful, in love and as beautiful as ever. The only thing she has ever questioned was the playful wind's plan for her. She had surrendered to its seduction many times, but had also ignored it in favour of more earthly and stable delights. What would have happened if she kept following? Allowed herself to become nothing but a flippant feather, for the wind to do with what it will?
These are the times, these are the choices.

To fly or fight, to follow or stay.

She is, inevitably, happy and satisfied but has always kept one eye on the wind, and one hand open for its frivolous charm to take.

Marianne Moore, Three Fifty-Four

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Happy Father's Day!

In honour of Father's Day, I'm doing a special post dedicated to my own father who I love and has only ever offered me the best and most practical of advice! Here's an array of some of my dad's best jokes/advice/jokes with advice undertones. Try and guess which is which (harder than you may think) :
  • Dad gets to sit at table with kids for once, uses as platform to embarass me. "Hey, hey, guess what? We're on the cool table!" *Points at airconditioner and sniggers*
  • Comes home with yoghurt for me and lifts up shirt: "Hey, we got you a six pack!"
  • "Damn Westerners"
  • Timetabling with my dad: "These holidays you have 3 weeks. There are 24 hours a day, let's give you 8 hours sleep plus another 3 hours for meals. Now you have 13 hours! You have 5 subjects, so let's do something reasonable like 2 hours study for each, so now you have 3 hours. 3 hours for spare time, I think that's more than generous don't you? Of course, you'll have less free time, the holidays before exams, but don't worry about that, just remember, hard work is the most important thing. Consider the graph." 
  • My dad's first love is his family, his second is Microsoft Excel, especially graphs.
  • "Damn Japanese"
  • After mum says someone complimented my rosy cheeks: "If you're lucky, they (Asian folk) won't cut your arms off and put you in a cage, make you beg for money. They like pink cheeks you know, think they're cute. Get more money."
  • "Damn Indians."
  • The reason why only last year I confidently lit a match: "When you were a baby, your dad used to scream 'NO' whenever someone lit a match around you."
  • Left my mobile at home once again. Excerpt of dad's lecture, somewhere after 2 minutes of actually addressing the topic: "We'd have nothing in this society if there was no law. Just remember, never try drugs, they're against the law, and you'll die. And what's the most important thing? That's right, hard work. Just remember the graph."
  • And of course, everyone's favourite Asian pimp analogy! "You can't judge EVERYTHING by appearance (after deciding I liked the white camera better than the black one)! What if you were in Asia and you met a handsome man and he charmed you and then it turned out he was a PIMP! Then you'd be in trouble! Don't come crying back to me when you're working as a prostitute!"
  • "Damn Chinese."
 End. Happy Father's Day to all the Dad's!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Marc Bolan & T-Rex - The Slider (1972)

The cover was shot by Ringo Starr. The band went from Folk to Glam Rock - but dont let that turn you off...

You know when you find one of those records that you can play over and over again in a dark room with a lava lamp, kicking and thrusting away on your bed with all your friends. This is one of them.

Light a candle, keep the curtains open for everyone to see, and when your sad, just slide.

"In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.."

Call me cliche for quoting Coco, but Daisy Lowe to me is just that; Different, Irreplaceable.
I admit its been awhile since ive google this beauty, but tonight when I did, I was not dissapointed.
She was a first love of mine and hence, I wanted to share....

Meanwhile, Cherry Red or White Docs please? Im not picky and my birthday is awfully close...


Monday, August 23, 2010

Wanderer's Wandering Daughter

Here is a piece by our good friend Marianne Moore, Three Fifty-Four who will be writing some little pieces for us here and there, since our own literacy skills are questionnable. Hopefully it will make you feel as lovely as we did reading it. Enjoy.

Woolen vested and black stockinged, she slipped out her front door without anyone noticing. Of course, no one had lived with her to notice for almost a year now. That didn't stop her from sneaking in when she got home late, or rolling her ciggarettes in a locked bathroom and smoking them beside the red-brick pillar behind her apartment block.

Where she was going on this particular outing, nobody properly knew.

Where she ended up, however, was a botanical garden, wandering about in the light rain and taking pictures of twisted trees and fragmented flowers. Her photography skills were not brilliant, but then again neither was the beauty of the trees or the fragrance of the flowers. And so she wandered.

Past a thousand crying Twiggys and dozens of standstone walls, past the sheltered displays and the books - so many books - ordered and shelved. And nothing of particular interest happened to this girl today, just like nothing of particular interest happens to you or me. This girl is, indeed, all of us. Wandering alone, not quite brilliant; "I feel some faith in that cosmic link." Maybe that girl snuck in, recovered some wine from its usual hiding place and started a blog of all the things that made her happy.

Even if Marla didn't really exist.
Marianne Moore, Three Fifty-Four

Femme Fatale of the Day - Mathilda

"I am writing here the name of a girl in my class that makes me sick. If things get hot, she'll take the heat."
Because who doesn't love a badass little girl with a Beretta 92FS?

"ruddy mysterious…"

Series 4, get on it, it'll have you laughing for hours...

A Journey Through Time and Space...

-"Im gonna creep inside you like a warm kitten"