I have a wacom tablet now. That means I can draw stuff. And things. And all sorts of … stuff. Here, I made this for you:
I have a wacom tablet now. That means I can draw stuff. And things. And all sorts of … stuff. Here, I made this for you:
Oh why hello there, dear people who waste their times reading my blog. I’ve been rather busy over the past few months (hence my non-posting, also … I am lazy. Like a boss). But one project I’ve completed in that time was a steampunk Wonder Woman costume for the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo.
To begin with, I was lucky. Lucky in the sense of “Oh hey, I already have a red corset as my dear friend made me spend a few hundred dollars on a custom made one to be a bridesmaid at her wedding” lucky. I also lucked out in having a mediaeval dress pattern sitting around. Because, uh… who doesn’t have a mediaeval dress pattern just sitting around? I ALSO lucked out when visiting the fabric store by finding an awesome navy blue fabric with stars on it.
The luck ended when I took out my sewing machine to start working on the project and discovered that the tension button for the 30-year-old machine was completely shot. As in “the metal screw holding an extremely important part of the machine together was snapped in two places” completely shot. I ended up borrowing a friend’s sewing machine for two weeks — but had a deadline. As said friend also had to sew her matching Bat Girl steampunk costume. Motivation! It was there. There were other set backs though. Like cat:
Eventually I finished up the dress and started in on the jacket. Considering in all past sewing adventures, armholes were my nemesis, I was pleasantly surprised at how easily this went together.
The real joy was the trimming. Why? Because I got this snazzy edging that while awesome and completely fitting for steampunk, needed to be sewn on by hand.
On top of that, guess what also had to be handstitched? Oh just ALL OF THE GOLD RIBBON TRIM to transform my corset into a Wonder Woman style corset. There was a lot of netflix watched during this period in my life so I didn’t go bananas. Well, more bananas than I already am.
And then it was time to accessorize. Wonder Woman needed a lasso — so that meant a trip to the fabric store to buy golden curtain cord.
A trip to the thrift store lead to the discovery of theses totes awesome earrings.
Then there was what to put on my head. Sure I could go with a tiara/crown. But that doesn’t really seem steampunky. The logical thing to do was to have a small top hat fascinator. This is when years of being crafty paid off. Ribbon spool + cd spindle clear cd + hot glue + felt = awesome.
Look, I’ll be honest. At one point I totally glued my fingers together. And there was burning. But it was all for a good cause, because look at this pretty!!
Well, then there was also the dark blue netting to add. But in the end I even finished up everything way before the big weekend. Tah Dah!
I know there was that whole previous post about how my cat Jellybean is ridiculously disgusting and grosses me out. And yet? Despite his shortcomings I still like him more than most people. I probably like him more than you. Here are the top 10 reasons why:
10. My cat has low expectations of me. Food, water, shelter, snuggles, play and litter box changed. I CAN TOTALLY HANDLE THAT. Everyone else? Expectations. For example, people who I see on a daily basis expect me to remember their names. What kind of ridiculousness is that? My cat doesn’t expect me to remember his name. That would imply he responds to it.
9. LOOK AT THAT BELLY! LOOK AT THAT BELLY!
8. My cat doesn’t judge me if I walk around with no pants on. Or naked. He doesn’t care. He’s already there in no-pants land. Also? I can eat beans and fart til the cows come home. Does he care? No. You would.
7. He’s not racist. I’m not saying *you’re* racist. But really, you’re a human. You judge people and are probably an ass on some level over something stupid. My cat doesn’t hate based on religion, race and so on. He hates because he is cat.
6. He protects me from monsters at night. Do you? No. You don’t.
5. Despite being a 15 pound male cat, my Jellybean loves playing with sparkly pink toys. My cat is not bound by silly cultural ideas about “gender.”
3. He cleans my kitchen floor by licking it. Now that’s dedication. You wouldn’t do that.
3. Once again … LOOK AT THAT BELLY! LOOK AT THAT BELLY!
1. My cat has never made me cry. People have. People are awful. People break your heart and let you down. Even the best people sometimes. Especially the worst people. The only time I’ve ever cried because of a cat has been when they get sick or old and have to be euthanized. So screw you people, I’m sticking with cats.
Licks my shoes
Apparently my life is a lie. I’ve avoided most horror movies under the impression that I can’t handle them. (See my post on childhood traumatization). This was also reconfirmed when I couldn’t last five minutes into the Dawn of the Dead (new version) and had nightmares from Shaun of the Dead.
So I came up with the brilliant idea of having a horror movie marathon over the weekend to see how utterly messed up I would become and then documenting for the sake of this blog (And science!)
Except after watching movie after movie after movie, I was not messed up. At all. If anything I was bored and cheering for the bad guys.
But just so I feel like I’ve accomplished something, here are summaries to each of the movies I watched.
The Last House on the Left (remake)
So I almost threw up at one point in the middle of the movie when the first girl was being murdered. Garrett Dillahunt seems like a lovely guy in real life. Also I giggled because … Jesse Pinkman. The whole movie is just normal people just doing awful things to each other which puts it less on a horror level and more on the suspense level — something I can handle without freaking out because that’s like every single episode of Criminal Minds, Numb3rs and so on.
I know this was supposed to be the original slasher film that started a long long line of slasher films etc. etc. and launched Jamie Lee Curtis’ career.
But all anyone talks about is how badass Michael Myers is, but he never does anything except creep. And when he finally does kill, and it’s completely expected and not surprising.
Then Jamie Lee Curtis’ character had two, count them TWO chances to stab the eff out of the bad guy until he definitely was completely dead and did she? No. She dropped the knife and wandered off and all that. Her character doesn’t even deserve to be alive if she’s that stupid.
Going into this, I thought it was going to be bad. Gore has always not be my forté. But I fell asleep midway through, because that’s how … engaging it is? The whole thing is just over glorified torture porn.
You know what I find scarier than bodies being hacked? The shitty headline writing when they do the pan-over of various news articles. Example recreation:
“This is a really important piece of
They put one word on its own line. So wrong. I am having nightmares that only someone who does newspaper layout can have.
Holy shit, it’s smoking man. And Jonathan Brandis. And Harry Anderson. And Tim Curry. I’m too busy being nostalgic for all these random actors to be scared.
This was one of those movies that freaked out all the kids my age growing up. But I’m not freaked out. I’m more amused at the production quality of it all. Also … glowing lights? Really? Oooo I’m so scared. Nice fail, King.
The Woman In Black
Look Harry Potter. I’m not falling for this melancholic ruse you’re putting on. Get back to Hogwarts and magicking. Also, I kinda cheated because I looked up the plot of this movie long ago so knew what was happened. Because that’s how I roll if I find something too slow.
Meh. Screaming weird faces. Weird chattering noises. Everyone gets screwed. Whee?
Not scary. Hilarious. Why is this filed under horror? Also. Kevin Bacon. With his perfectly feathered hair. I am jealous.
Nightmare on Elm Street (remake)
So I fell asleep midway through this one.
Friday the 13th (remake)
Meh. Boobs, boobs more boobs. And blood. I have my own. Do not care.
Freddy vs. Jason
The Hills Have Eyes
Well … at least the people are fighting back in this one instead of standing around playing stupid?
Creepy, thoughtful and the usual for Del Toro. But as usual, Del Toro can be counted on to have a morose but not freak-you-out-so you can’t sleep happyish ending.
Dawn of the Dead
My nemesis. I do not like zombies. I do not like zombies at all. Oh fuck zombies. WHY ARE YOU LIGHTING THEM ON FIRE? THEY JUST BECOME FLAMING ZOMBIES HURDLING TOWARDS YOU. OH GOD ZOMBIE BABY COMING OUT OF HER WOMB AGHAHGGHGHGHGHGHGHGH… … welp. I lasted through the whole movie. No nightmares at all either. Does this mean I’m cured?
Land of the Dead.
Theoretically, I should’ve been freaked out by this film because zombies. But no, I was not. I was actually cheering for the zombies because the humans were just assholes.
And then I gave up and went to watch The Swan Princess.
(Guest blog post by Peter Damien)
My name is Peter Damien, and in light of recent holidays and events — such as a “video blog” which I will not elaborate on further — I have been asked to talk to you today about the True Story of Thanksgiving, which a lot of you foreigners don’t seem to know properly. I’m able to do this not only because I’m licensed to tell the True Story of Thanksgiving, but also through a special agreement between the President of the United States and the Canadian Moose-King.
Like most aspects of United States culture these days, nearly every country in the world knows about it, even if they don’t celebrate the same holidays. This is because we’re a bit like a neighbor who hasn’t got a clear understanding of personal space, so we will probably occupy your country and tell you about our holidays until you agree that they all make sense and sound like really good ideas. This has historically been the reason for the occupation of other countries. England, for example, used to occupy loads of places, largely because people all over the world were saying “What the hell is Guy Fawkes’ Night? Why are you celebrating someone trying to blow up your government? We– I– what?” So they came, occupied, told you all about it, and you were so charmed by their accent (which, in the past, was Michael Caine. Everyone sounded like Michael Caine all the time) that you agreed it sounded like a neat holiday.
But I digress, and I’m not licensed for that. I’m sorry.
THE TRUE STORY OF THANKSGIVING
Once Upon a Time, in the year 1492, there were some Pilgrims in England and they were sad because King Ferdinand and Queen Victoria were not being very nice to their quite reasonable pasttimes, and so they called their good friend Christopher Columbus who had a boat he had bought off his good friend Ferdinand Magellean. I know what you’re thinking and yes, frankly everybody was named Ferdinand back then whereas now? Almost no one is named Ferdinand, but lots of people are named Toby. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Anyway they called up Christopher Columbus and asked if he would take them in his boat, the Lusitania, across the Atlantic Ocean and to the United States, although it wasn’t called the United States just yet (spoilers!) it was still just called America.
So Christopher Columbus said “Sure!” and he got into his boat with all of his friends, the Pilgrims, and also his other friends, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and Abraham Lincoln and they all sailed to America with a lot of turkeys and stuffing (which was used to fill holes in ship hulls, a use it is still put to now). The weather was really scary but they were all very good Christians and prayed to Baby Jesus for good weather.
When they got to America they found some Indians who were very nice and agreed to come over for dinner later on, but first the Pilgrims had to found a colony they called “Boston” and then founded another one they called “Plymouth” where they would build cars they decided just as soon as they knew what cars were (Spoilers!).
Later, the Indians came over and they all had a big feast because of the Pilgrims being hungry from all that sailing, and the Indians showed them beer which in the Indian language is called “budweiser” George Washington and everybody else were really super grateful to the Indians and they all lived very happily together for the rest of time without any problems whatsoever at all.
Later, after they gave thanks to Baby Jesus properly and then ate so much food that several of them had to be rolled away from the table like Katamari balls which they also didn’t know about yet because Japan wasn’t founded until 1942, approximately, anyway they all went to a big clearing where they invented a sport they called NASCAR. They had tried inventing football but failed to bring any criminals over and also they didn’t have very many helmets. NASCAR was very exciting and they all loved the unpredictable nature of the game — which way will the cars turn this time???? — although at the time they played it with Wagons and horses because frankly Plymouth was proving to be a real disappointment, and they were thinking of starting a different car-based town called Detroit, but they weren’t sure yet.
Later, there was a Thanksgiving parade which featured a marching band from every school in the area and gigantic balloons from every nearby business but since they had all just got there earlier that day, it didn’t take long.
George Washington and Christopher Columbus and Benjamin Franklin and Abraham Lincoln and all the Pilgrims and Indians loved Thanksgiving so much they all agreed that they should celebrate it every single year to thank Baby Jesus but they also decided that before next year, they should build some shops so they’d have something to do with the day after Thanksgiving.
Some time later, Canadians appeared from somewhere else or whatever and decided that because they had sailed over too — with their friend Cortez — that they should also have a Thanksgiving, or whatever, and it continues to this day and is, if we’re all being honest with ourselves…complete plagiarism. But that’s not for me to talk about, that’s between the President and the Moose-King.
And now you know the true story! It is 100% factual and I am licensed so you don’t even need to look anything up at all! Isn’t that nice?
Wait’ll you hear about Christmas…
Thank you to the various ‘mericans who told me about their holiday traditions so I could attempt them. You are a fascinating people, and I wish our two nations a long and prosperous friendship.
(For the record — although I ham it up, I’m quite okay with being single, because quite frankly, I’m ridiculously awesome.)
Because the nicest thing you can do to your best friends is record them while playing scrabble on Christmas vacation. We lead exciting lives, yo.
Dear Canadian Netflix,
In true Canadian-style, I am writing you a polite passive-aggressive public letter to express my disappointment in the services you provide.
I’ve noticed a disturbing trend when it comes to the movies you have made available to us Canadian subscribers. No, I’m not complaining about horrible movie-crap like Nazis at the Centre of the Earth or rip-off cartoon versions of bigger movies like Brave. Or even rip-off movies of already shitty movies like Battleship.
After working up the courage to crawl out of bed yesterday, I thought to myself “Hey, I should curl up on my couch and watch some movies instead of facing the world.” It was in this quest that I noticed a few gaps in what you have available.
For example, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was available. Aka the third filmified version of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia books that are a blatant metaphor for Jesus although I didn’t catch on to that big point of the books when growing up because I was raised by wonderful heathen parents.
But there is no The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe available. Nor Prince Caspian. How am I supposed to be properly converted into worshiping a giant lion voiced by Liam Neeson?
Meanwhile, of all the Highlander movies that have been birthed into this world, the most logical one to have up on Netflix is the first one. Because it isn’t a horrific mess compared to pretty much every single other movie in the series. But no, not happening. The only Highlander movie available is Highlander: Endgame. That just makes my poor nerd brain weep.
And sure, I own all the Highlander movies on dvd because I am full of win, but to watch them would require like … walking five feet to my box of dvds that I have yet to unpack some 10 months after moving into this apartment. Also, I’m still all sorts of bitter over you taking down the Highlander television series. That’s cold, man.
It doesn’t end there.
Because I’m awesome, I’ve been rewatching The X-Files. Except I come to the end of Season 5 and go “Hey, this is where the X-Files movie fits into the series. I should really watch that before I go on to Season 6 because it’s the whole big important plot point of how Mulder gets his faith back in the existence of aliens.”
It’s kinda a big deal. But Is the X-Files movie available? Nope.
Netflix, you have 3: Ninjas Kick Back, and 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain but not the original 3 Ninjas nor 3: Ninjas Knuckle Up. Look, when I’m curled up in a corner rocking back and forth filled with regrets over my life and trying to recapture my childhood by rewatching Rocky, Colt and Tum Tum, I want it done properly and in chronological order.
Resident Evil: Extinction and Resident Evil: Afterlife are available. Although if I die in a zombie apocalypse and it’s because the key to my survival was held somewhere in the first two movies that you haven’t made available, well … let that be on your head, Netflix.
Sure you have Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, but not the original Breakin‘. Considering the nuance of 80s movies, I don’t think I’ll be able to grow to love and appreciate the characters in the second movie as they fight to stop the demolition of their community centre without the first movie being available to me.
There’s no Street Kings to go along with Street Kings 2. No Escape from New York to go with Escape from L.A.. No Speed to go with Speed 2. No Into the Blue to go with Into the Blue 2: The Reef.
There’s not even a Transformers or Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen to go with Transformers: Dark of the Moon. I actually don’t know if that’s a problem, or if it’s more of a problem that Dark of the Moon exists at all. But here I am complaining, like an old man yelling at a cloud or talking to a chair.
I just want to be able to waste my life watching shitty movies in proper order. It satisfies my lonely, pathetic neurotic tendencies.
Instead you are destroying the magic of Hollywood.
Also, what day is it?
A big fan of Tum Tum.
Small town people like dead stuff.
This seems to hold true, whether it’s a coastal town, mining/logging town or farming area. Dead stuff, specifically dead animals, are a big deal.
And if you’re from either suburbia or an urban area this simple fact can be quite traumatizing.
Like taking a walk through a small town parking lot during deer hunting season.
If you’re really lucky, the child you are with will look up at you with those big disgustingly wide “Oh-look-at-me-I’m-so-adorable-because-I-haven’t-hit-puberty-and-become-all-gangly-yet” eyes.
They will ask:
“Mommy, why is Bambi asleep in the back of that truck?”
“He’s just going for a ride honey, and is tied down for safety. Like how we wear a seat belt.”
There is also the option of just telling the kid “Bambi is dead. Like most of your dreams in life will be at some point.” But apparently that’s frowned upon and seen as “bad parenting.” And for some reason, if you tell a stranger’s kid something like that, you get into even more trouble.
Then there’s the fishermen who filet a fish with such finesse and toss the guts out to sea to be ripped apart by the gulls. Not exactly for the faint of stomach – but also quite a morbidly artistic thing to see.
My personal favourite is introducing city slickers to the farm.
“Awww cute … what do you call her?”
“That one? Dinner.”
Even as a vegetarian for seven years, I began to delight in death and all its neat bits and pieces.
I found myself saying sentences like: “So I was out covering the opening of the new abattoir today for the newspaper. This is a picture of where they stun the cow. Here’s where the cow tumbles down. That’s where the blood goes, then they hook the cow up here, and this mechanism rips the skin right off… Hey! Why do you look pale and like you’re ready to throw up?”
Road kill is also kind of a “big deal” in smaller towns. The dead that line the side of the roads aren’t just fluffy bunnies, cats or dogs. We have larger targets: deer, moose, bears, elk.
It becomes a sport.
“Well Mary, I saw two dead deer today, plus a few squished skunks.”
“Oh how nice Petunia! I saw a bear smeared across the road, plus a fox. That’s 20 points I believe. Would you like some more tea?”
There’s also the “you kill it, you grill it” mantra in effect for road kill and small towns. Can’t let good protein go to waste. Plus all is fair in tough economic times.
And lest we forget, when it comes to dead things and small towns it’s also all about the interior decorating. Dead things hanging on a wall have a certain … je ne sais quoi to them.
If you bag that moose or deer with a rack that would put (insert sexist reference to a celebrity’s chest here) to shame, you’ve gotta put that baby on display.
Same with that fish, or at least that fish that didn’t get away. Or horns, cowhide, cow skulls, turtle shells, or pelts. If it once had a pulse, it belongs on the wall where anyone who enters your castle can see the full glory of your dead animal collection.
It’s a total thumbing of the nose to Martha Stewart and all those other uppity interior decorating people.
You can’t fight it. Everything dies. Get used to it. We’re just keeping it REAL in the countryside, Martha & Co.