Brains, Darling. Brains.

I do so love a bit of Halloween divilment, and this weekend is shaping up rather nicely on that count I have to say. Tomorrow night will find the Bear and I, among others, shouting obscenities and throwing toast around in The Sugar Club for another fun night of Rocky Horror mischief. Seeing as dressing up is both mandatory and fuckloads of fun, I've been putting some thought into this year's costume and have settled on 1920s zombie.


I'm hoping to channel a sort of undead Clara Bow vibe and have been looking for pictures of vintage hottie Madge Bellamy in White Zombie, the first ever zombie movie by all accounts, fact fans. Last night when I was going to bed after spending half an hour Googling zombies, the Bear decided to frighten the bejaysus out of me by hiding in the doorway of the bathroom with the light off, the big jerk.


Undeterred, I have plans to rip up a black dress from Penneys, pick holes in some fishnets and get some fake blood all up in my grill, as it were. When Sunday rolls around, we've got an adventure in the Dublin Mountains to look forward to, as the Bear managed to win two tickets on Facebook for an excursion to the Hellfire Club from Hidden Dublin Walks. Sure what else would you be doing of a Sunday, other than listening to stories about demonic statues, dwarf skeletons and black masses in a haunted ruin up a mountain?

Quelque Chose #3

Via Dinosaurs and Robots

One, Two, UniShoe

When I was little I decided I wanted to be a librarian. This was entirely down to a Richard Scarry book that my brother and I owned, (we inevitably mispronounced his surname as Scary) as it had a section that listed different jobs. That section included a picture of a cat sitting at a desk with piles of books in front of her, with "Librarian" printed below it. As a small child, I decided I liked the look of this as a career and would stack books in front of myself in an effort to emulate the cat in question. At least until I decided I actually wanted to be a fireman. Or fireperson. Which doesn't quite sound right. But back to the book, and the work of Mr Scarry. Feline librarian aside, mine and my brother's favourite character in it was that of a magically upright worm.

How come the pig at the far end won't hold hands like everyone else? I bet the worm would be all about the hand holding if he had them. Contrary fucker.

That's him there, with the dapper hat and bow tie. Devoid of arms and uni-shod, my brother and I christened him One Shoe Hopper. I actually only discovered this year that his proper name is Lowly Worm. I prefer One Shoe Hopper though. Further Googling of him and his well dressed ways revealed that he regularly appeared in Scarry books, driving around in his apple shaped car. Driving. DRIVING? He's got no arms or hands and only one foot. Which is really the end of his tail stuffed into a runner.

Madness.

How could this even begin to work? I don't see a steering wheel of any description, how the hell does he go around corners? There doesn't appear to be any manner of door either, so how does he get in? And even if there IS a door, HOW DOES HE OPEN IT? I need answers!

Stuff and Things

As a completely unorganised person, random little ideas for blog posts tend to be either scribbled down or typed into my phone and left languishing in the drafts folder. Some of them are too short to warrant their own post or too long to squish into Twitter's 140 character restraints, so here they are as a medley of sorts, or selection box if you will.

> Whilst out for The Incredible Mulq's birthday a few weeks ago, a genius idea was born. An idea of such magnitude that I kept it safely in my phone and subsequently forgot all about it until recently. An Irish horror movie called...wait for it...GAELGORE. Possibly all in uppercase and most likely set in a Gael Coláiste on Skellig Michael. Yes, we were quite drunk at the time. Alright, very drunk. But that's what happens when mojitos are two for a tenner. Also, the Gaelgore bit was actually Dave Flag's idea.

> Is it just me, or do the staff of Cineworld on Parnell Street work in slow motion? They don't seem to have any grasp of the concept of "being in a hurry because we're a bit late and might miss the beginning of the film". Also, a few months ago the Bear and I ordered some delicious salty cinema food at the counter, only for the goon that took our order to quite literally wander off out of sight to a back room, not to be seen again. Which left us standing there puzzled, wondering what the hell just happened, until someone else came along to serve us.

Seriously.

> My Dad is quite a funny man. For example, he came up with "the Spliffy by the Liffey" when we passed this particular scene on O'Connell Street last week. However, he's at his absolute funniest when it's unintentional. He was telling me about a comedy song he heard on the radio, and that it was by some group called Cat Sack Upside Down. I stared at him and said: "Do you mean...Dead Cat Bounce?" He looked thoughtful and replied: "Oh yeah. That's what it was."

> And lastly, there's this crowd noise. A particular crowd noise clip that gets used in tv shows, ads and films. It's a generic crowd cheer with a distinctive "Woo! Woo!" towards the end. Stay with me on this. Seriously. It must be the crowd noise equivalent to the Wilhelm Scream, because I hear it all the time. South Park always uses it and it's currently in that awful 123.ie ad with the poorly animated showbiz presenter lady with the big rack and that insufferable Ivan Answer idiot. I just need to know if anyone else knows what I'm talking about or am I actually in the process losing my mind. Help me.

If You Go Down To The Woods Today

A few weeks ago, the Bear had a college reunion of sorts in Nealon's. I came along later on in the evening, having previously been at Landsdowne Road to swoon at Michael Bublé. Ahem. I know. I'm actually desperately uncool, despite the deadly-bird-about-town persona that this blog no doubt projects. Y'know, the kind of deadly-bird-about-town who's obsessed with Jessica Fletcher and puts her foot in it with her boyfriend's relatives. Yeah. Maybe not, actually.

Anyway, I joined the Bear and his buddies once I had made my way back into town to find him in a warm and crowded pub wearing his big, scratchy, woolly zip-up hoodie.

"Eh...are you not roasting?"

"Yeah. But there's a bear convention or something on upstairs."

"....there's a what now, where now?"

It transpired that Nealon's is in fact the official venue for Dublin Bears. These particular bears being the large, hirsute and cuddly variety of gay man. And on the third Saturday of each month Pantibar, which is across from Nealon's, hosts a bear night called The Furry Glen. (Whose logo I flipping love by the way.) It being the third Saturday of this particular month, there were big beardy men in assorted combinations of leather to be seen traipsing up and down the stairs in the pub, to the upper floor. Unfortunately in this instance for the Bear, he too is a big, beardy man and he also happened to be wearing a tshirt I got him for Christmas with this on it:


So to avoid any confusion, he kept his big warm hoodie on. Which is brown and (as I said) woolly and scratchy and as such did absolutely naught to distance him from the goings-on suas staighre, as it gives him the appearance of a huge friendly teddy bear. Although lucky for me, this bear doesn't have any interest in boys wearing assless pants.

Black Magic Woman

On the way to work this morning, I noticed that the windows of the MAC section of Brown Thomas were adorned with huge images of Cruella De Vil and the Evil Queen from Snow White, as part of their new overpriced makeup collection Venomous Villains. Even though I have no intention of shelling out for any of it, I did think to myself: "They better have included Maleficent in this you know, because as Disney villains go, that bitch is BADASS." Turns out they did. I was pleased.


You see, I have no interest whatsoever in buying purple lipstick but I do love me some Disney villains. The Princesses are all well and good, but the baddies are just so much more interesting. They get some of the best lines, they're so sly and clever and...purple. In college I managed to write my thesis on the image of the witch throughout history...as you do. (Cue conversations with lecturers about how this totally relates to graphic design and is definitely relevant for the degree in Visual Communications that lay ahead.) Halfway through it I managed to shoehorn in a reference to my beloved villainess Maleficent, and a picture of her to boot. Go me.


As Disney villains go, Maleficent kicks the collective asses of all the other evildoers. They're Diet Evil, while she's the childhood-scarring real deal. I mean, if you're going to be the hero's enemy you may as well go all out. Her scenes at the end of Sleeping Beauty frightened the bejaysus out of my six year old self, but on reflection turning into a dragon and having a pet raven are frankly quite awesome attributes.

Apparently (and if the gospel according to IMDb is anything to go by) Tim Burton is meant to be having a crack at re-telling Disney's Sleeping Beauty, but from Maleficent's point of view. Oh now. Yes. Please.

Bog Down In The Valley-O

A few weeks ago, I was out for a quiet few with the Bear and two of the Flags in a pub in Sligo called Shoot The Crows. A fine pub it is too. It's just the right kind of dark inside, with lots of timber, good Guinness (according to the Bear anyway), old men with great beards and a scary painting of a raven on the wall. All well and good, yes? But there's an oddity of sorts to be found in the ladies toilets. There's one normal cubicle and one really quite large one. And the really quite large one merited a blurry cameraphone picture to bring back and show to the boys in bewilderment. And this is why:


That's right. Two toilets. One cubicle. Now, I could kind of understand this in a nightclub of some description, when girls are the level of drunk that we'll pile into one stall with our mate to keep whatever enthralling and undoubtedly intellectual conversation going. But in an old man's pub in Sligo, where there's only one other normal cubicle and a girl in a sequinned dress would look spectacularly lost and out of place? Surely this means that the second toilet is left mostly unused unless you're willing to pee next to a stranger. Which I'm really definitely not.

Squirrels Just Wanna Have Fun

In real life, I do actually call the Bear..well...Bear. He calls me Kitty and on occaison, Squirrel. (Yes I know, bleugh alert etc.) The squirrel part comes from the fact that we sometimes like to replace the word "girl" in a song lyric with "squirrel". Try it. It's fun.

See?

Well it certainly amuses me no end. But then again so does the word "debrief".

Anyway.

Whilst wandering around Urban Outfitters, I was immediately drawn to a wallet with a lovely yellow squirrel on it. For €32. Balls to that, thought I. But one just like it was on sale for €18, and it transpired that the squirrel one was actually on sale too. Seeing as my last wallet had cost an entire euro in Dunnes, I figured it pretty much balanced out. While paying for my shiny new wallet, the guy behind the counter decided most kindly to give me a student discount. Even though I haven't been a student since 2006. So it actually only cost me €17.

Kitty: 1 World: 0

Battle Of The Bears

I think it's safe to say that pretty much everyone loves the Fox's bissquits panda Vinnie, what with the cute little head on him and his fluffy mafioso charm. But there's a new bear on the block. Birdseye have taken it upon themselves to impose on tellies everywhere a judgemental polar bear that lives in people's freezers. I don't like him. He creeps me out. Also, he's voiced by Willem Defoe, so they might as well slap a flashing neon sign with VILLIAN! on it over his head. Therefore I propose another TV smackdown in the manner of my previous Cardassians vs Kardashians brainwave. Ad Bear (Polar) vs Ad Bear (Panda). Vinnie could take that creepy dot-eyed sociopath down to Chinatown without even leaving his armchair. For real.

I'll Get Me Coat

A few weeks ago I was invited along to an A|Wear press day, as I occasionally manage to pass myself off as a fashion blogger of sorts somehow. Whilst having a nosy around their forthcoming Autumn stock, a certain coat reminded me of something. Last year I blogged about (read: got obsessed with) a coat that the ridetabulous Zooey Deschanel wore in Yes Man, how it turned out to be from a vintage shop and as such, disappointingly could not be had. Even now, I still get hits from people desperately Googling "zooey deschanel yes man navy coat", and my favourite search term so far:

"i want mother effing zooey deschanel navy freaking peacoat!"

So frustrated and yet too polite to even swear properly. Aw.

So, to the A|Wear coat at hand. Namely this navy and red schoolgirl coat, which is out now, costs €70 and really, seeing as Zooey's coat was a magical one-off, it's not an altogether bad substitute, no?

Carry On Regardless

The gorgeous and oft-parodied "Keep Calm and Carry On" poster was commissioned by the British Government during WWII but was never actually used, as it was only produced for use in a last case scenario should those fiendish Nazis manage to invade. It was rediscovered in a second hand bookshop in 2000 and has since taken on a life of its own, as the image is now public domain. I didn't realise this until today, when I went Googling it.

(As a total aside, does everyone else hate this new Google Instant thing as much as I do? Charlie Brooker hit the nail on head as per usual: "it's aggressive – like trying to order from a waiter who keeps finishing your sentences while ramming spoonfuls of what he thinks you want directly into your mouth." Seriously Charlie, ditch that Konnie Huq hottie and let's do this already.)

So, to the point of this post. There's some really good versions of this poster out there (I have to say, I'm loving the nerdtastic Wrath of Khan one above) but I think my favourite one thus far is by Osmand Nosse of the very funny A Cat Is A Cat.

They're for sale in his shiny new shop for only twenty of your Earth euros, and I suggest you have a looksee. I like it a lot.

Picnic Pick 'n Mix

Oh I do so love Electric Picnic. Frolics and adventures aplenty are the order of the weekend and 2010 delivered just that. In the shape of:

> The amazing Miss Janelle Monae flooding the Body & Soul stage with pure funky brilliance and a really rather impressive hairstyle.

> Eels doing a brilliant version of Mr E's Beautiful Blues to the tune of Twist and Shout. It totally works!

> Discussing what a dickhead Bear Grylls is while drinking cans by the tent. Conclusion: He's an attention seeking cunt. But I think we all knew that already.

> Overhearing shouts of "Five-O!" in the campsite to herald the approach of the Gardaí. Whether there actually were any coming mattered not, because having just started watching The Wire, I found it hilarious. Particularly because one of our mates that was with us is in fact a Garda.


> Getting our collective groove on to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. I do love a bit of a brass section. A nine-strong, rapping brass section that is.

> Túcan being typically amazing in both Body & Soul and at the fairylight-illuminated Salty Dog, with their Daft Punk mashup and brilliant version of Oxide and Neutrino's 90s classic No Good 4 Me.

> Gaping slack-jawed and bug-eyed at the sequinned performers of Fossett's Circus as they frantically spun around and twisted themselves into unbelieveable shapes while gripped to a rope, bits of ribbon, and at one point a type of fishing net, high above the circus ring. I was seriously on the edge of my plastic seat and nearly forgot I had popcorn in my hand. And a borrowed gourd of whiskey and (heh) red lemonade in the other.

> Glenn Wool in the Comedy Tent. I have a big ridiculous crush on him since seeing him at the Kilkenny Cat Laughs a few years ago.

> Ditching Hot Chip for Imelda May on the Main Stage. Because she's so unbelieveably amazing and I love her, that rockabilly badass. That particular girl crush has now gone up to eleven.

> The giant stage times that the Bear had printed out, laminated and attached to his belt for the weekend. We intended for it to be a joke and for him to wear it around his neck like a supersized timetable but it ended up being really handy (at times as something to sit on when the ground was wet) and went down a storm with manys a stranger.

Ginormo-timetable! And my small girly one.

> Seasick Steve on the Salty Dog. Seasick Steve on a boat! A BOAT! Genius.

> A mini cabaret act of sorts popping up on the Salty Dog between Seasick Steve and Túcan. By mini cabaret act I mean three sexy girls in sailor outfits dancing to Candyman. Love!

> Catching the tail end of the Lucent Dossier show. It's all a bit fuzzy to be honest, but the Bear recalls me exclaiming "there's a lot of bottom going on here!", regarding the scantily clad lady-performers.

> GLOWSTICKS!

> The RTÉ Symphony Orchestra entertaining a hungover, Sunday morning crowd with the theme tunes from Indiana Jones and James Bond.


> Loving Beardyman for about ten minutes and then wandering off when it all got a bit too dubstep and boring for my liking. Which led to us laughing like lunatics in the Comedy Tent at Steve Frost's Comedy Improv Allstars featuring that lovely big armchair of a man, Phil Jupitus.

> Pieminister. As always. Oh Pieminister, you delicious bastards with your tasty, tasty pies. And mash. And gravy. Seriously, I'm anybody's for a Henny Penny Pie.

> Fight Like Apes and their glorious, demented, riotous set in the Electric Arena. May Kay and Pockets wreaked absolute havoc on the stage, walloping giant iron bars together in an oversized sword-fight, spitting water all over the shop, crowd surfing and clambering over everything in sight. The whole band finished up by making shite of the stage, trashing their instruments to a chorus of "one more tune" from the crowd. Which clearly wasn't going to happen seeing as keyboards and guitars had just been smashed against the ground and the drumkit was kicked over. Fantastic.

(I've also written a post just about the music we encountered, for Culch.ie which is here. I know, two posts in such quick succession - I'm clearly losing the run of myself entirely.)