If you see one film this Christmas...

...make it this one.



Roll on Friday 19th...

WTF?

Trying to ban swearing in Preston? Good luck...

I vant to drink your blaaaad...

So, this whole Twilightmania thing has been a source of quiet intrigue for me now for some months. The first I heard about it was at the start of the year; there was an article about it in the paper, questioning why on earth this vampire love story, written by a 30-something year old Mormon that she based on a dream she’d had, had become so enormously popular. ‘A cult book about vampires, why the hell haven’t I heard of this?’ I pondered, so at my next available chance I headed out and made the purchase. It’s a pretty good read. The story is fab, it’s like, Notebook passionate but all about vampires and werewolves (which in my world makes it infinitely better) and the fact that the leading man could, at any time, decide ‘Fuck this, there’ll be other girls, I’m totally just going to kill this bitch’ and sink his teeth into her neck makes it pretty sexy. But, and with no disrespect to the author at all, it’s no Lord of the Rings. So I really, really didn’t get the whole pandemonium that was going on in the States at all. The movie has gotten the biggest opening in 2008 after Batman, for Christ’s sake! I haven’t seen it yet so I guess I have to hold judgement, but hearing things like that only makes me a gazillion times more intrigued by this whole thing than I already am. People just keep telling me ‘Oh, its just another case of a low budget cult-movie becoming popular’ but Donnie Darko was a low budget cult that became unexpectedly massive, yet Jake Gyllenhaal didn’t have teenage girls dressed as fucking rabbits throwing themselves at him when he walked down the street. I saw the guy who plays the Vampire being interviewed and he said all these young girls get dressed up as Bella Swan, camp out for like 4 days by some Hot Topic or wherever the hell he’s doing a signing and scrawl ‘BITE ME’ across their necks. That’s just ridiculous. I know Robert Pattinson is like, a grade A fucking beaut, but why cant these kids just put a poster of him on their walls and make do like normal people? It’s bizarre. Stuff like this really weirds me out. Although who knows, I may go and see the movie next weekend, become just as brainwashed and will start going around dressing like Hollyoaks Newt’s new girlfriend.

But I highly doubt it.

Dali, or Mucha?

For today, it'll have to be Dali. One day I'll make my mind up.



I also really love this advert, it's only 30 seconds long but I get excited every time it comes on TV.

You've come a long way, baby

Check this out.

FREE SHOW

What are you doing on Tuesday night?

Those lovely Registered Sounds folk have provided an answer to that question, as they are putting on an awesome show for us gloomy Mancunians next week:

Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Registered Sounds:
Jim Noir + The Beep Seals + Gideon Conn + Magic Arm
At Manchester Academy (Club Acad)

And best of all – it’s free! I’m going to be there, and if you want to be there too all you need to do is go here and register for tickets. First come, first served, and they’re going fast, so get on it to avoid the heinous disappointment of knowing you could have seen Gideon Conn for free and you missed out. And please don’t turn up on the night expecting to just walk in as apparently, this wont work. The bouncers will politely ask you to fuck off, and you will end up getting the bus home at 8 o’clock, surrounded by freshers wearing neon tutu’s drinking Mickey Finns, riotously singing ‘Naïve’ by the Kooks at the top of their lungs.

The clothing line is out... Ronando's must surely now be imminent

Poor, poor Ronaldo. People really hate him, don't they? He winked at Rooney a billion years ago and noone is ever going to let him forget it. I personally find it fucking hilarious that so many people waste so much of their time despising him, when lets be honest, I'm sure when Ronaldo goes home at night to his enormous mansion, parks the Bentley amongst his fleet of cars and then bathes in a tub full of fifty pound notes, you know he really couldn't care less what Jo Bloggs said about him that morning to the fella who works in Greggs.

Regardless, love him or hate him, he is damn easy to make fun of. And then the guy goes and opens a store like this and gives the tabloid journalists a freakin' field day: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1070993/What-wear--footballer-Ronaldos-boutique.html

The best thing about that article? This line:

The store includes all the essential wardrobe items for a metrosexual Mediterranean stallion.

Thats some damn fine journalism.

In The City write up coming soon...

James Franco smells.

Oh this has made my YEAR

'Does anyone like Bryan Adams?'

I have this really bad problem, where if I’m alone for more than about 8 minutes with nothing to keep me occupied, my mind starts going ten to the dozen. I’ll sit and think about anything. This happened last night when I crawled into bed, only to realise I was wide awake and not ready to sleep, and for some reason the phrase ‘turn over a new leaf’ popped into my mind (I couldn’t tell you why). I thought about said phrase for ages, so long in fact that the word ‘leaf’ lost all meaning completely, and I came to the conclusion that the phrase makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. What is a ‘new leaf’ anyway? And why would turning it over symbolise someone becoming a better person? Ooohhh. I think I’ve just figured it out.

Last night, me and Magee were crawling amongst a few bars in town and decided to go catch a band. We had a look to see who was on, and almost, almost, ended up seeing a band called Strawberry Blondes (they are a punk band and the singer goes by the name of Mickie Stabbs – why we even considered it for more than a second is beyond me). On a whim, I had a last quick look to see if anything else was going on and saw that Travis were at the Ritz. As much as they wouldn’t exactly top a list of my favourite bands I do really love a lot of their old stuff, so we threw caution to the wind and went along. This was a good move, as not only were Travis unexpectedly brilliant (you kinda forget how many great songs that band have), but they had a support act called The Republic Tigers, who are now my favourite new band out of the States. They are VERY good and I urge you to check them out at your earliest opportunity. Me and Mag’s got talking to the singer and he told me a whimsical tale about a time when he was playing video games with RYAN ADAMS (!!) and that Ryan got mad at everyone and made them leave because he wanted to play the video games alone. He was described as ‘kinda weird’. In a way, it only makes me like him more. Anyway, their website is here: www.myspace.com/therepublictigers - Check them out.

Heres their video for Buildings and Mountains - this song is just so... lovely. Listen away.

Cheese + Ronaldo = bad dreams

The other day I was in the posh neck of the woods where I work, and Ronaldo drove past me. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but still, I did go on to tell everyone I know about it so I was clearly a little impressed. Anyways, I was super tired that day and went to bed insanely early and I remembered thinking to myself ‘I am so going to dream about him tonight…’

Cue: one of my oddest dreams yet. It started with me and my sister going to this pool party in the middle of the woods and yep, you’ve guessed it, it was being hosted by Ronaldo. Within minutes of arriving, I lost Vikki, and went into big sister panic mode. I couldn’t find her anywhere so became super brave and went to look for her in the surrounding woods, and that’s where I saw those 3 scary fuckers from The Strangers dumping 2 bodies by some trees. I thought one of them had seen me so I ran away and went to Bob Geldof’s house to hide out. However, suddenly 2 men broke into Bob’s house and starting nicking all his stuff so we went into the garden, where McFly were having a party. I had to babysit these 2 little kids who were creepier looking than Chucky and so after a while I made my excuses and left. For some reason, my parents lived next door so I went there. Then Ronaldo’s mum knocked on the door and said ‘Your sister is in those public toilets’ and pointed at these decrepit loo’s which were in the woods across the road (it was a very strange street). So I go in and there is Vikki. I was super mad at her for disappearing so I hit her with a stick all the way home. We went back to my parent’s house but they were building a conservatory and it had gone terribly wrong so we went to Nandos for some peace and quiet, but I left my purse in there and for some reason went and asked Pixie Geldof to help me find it. And then I woke up.

This is fucking hilarious

Determination

As if it's been 4 whole months since I waved goodbye to this blog, considering myself too busy with my grown up job to bother anymore, looked at it as a step into my 'adult' life... only to find myself on the cusp of sitting my NCTJ. I sit the entrance exam next week, so my creative juices should be in full flow, and hence I should probably be writing places other than my friends Facebook walls and eyeliner scrawl across my mirror reminding me where I left my car keys.

Anyway, this is just a test to make sure I could still remember the password to this thing (it took 3 attempts). I don't really feel all that inspired tonight, though. Watch this space?

Got Facebook?

See this:

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=19795262058&ref=mf

Take a look at his girlfriend...

2 things are making me happy today. 1, the new Katy Perry video. Her songs are bloody awesome. Have a whirl.



The 2nd?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1021129/Triumph-tears-Manchester-United-seize-European-crown-Moscow.html

I officially love football again. Last night was TOO exciting.

Cheers, Seamus

Last weekend, we went over to Dublin. Dublin is officially the best city I have ever visited. I want to pack up everything I own and move over there immediately. Its got all these amazing old buildings, the atmosphere is so laid back it's unreal, and the crossings are AMAZING. I want to go back. Now.

We came home to this unseasonably warm Manchester weather, which is fabulous, and making me thankful that I rent a home so close to beer gardens and Platt Fields Park. Which is where I shall be going in afew moments once I've finished downloading the latest slew of 'must listen to' artists. Impressing me at the moment are Team Waterpolo, Crystal Castles and Katy Perry. Lovely new songs just in time for summer.

PS: Go and see Iron Man. It's genius.

PPS: Gossip Girl is the greatest thing to happen to Thursday nights in a very, very long time.

'Why don't you ask him to dance?'

The hour and a half I spent watching The Orphanage in the cinema is officially the most scared I have ever been whilst at the flicks in my whole entire life. My sister was physically shaking. Sophie and Faye couldn’t even look at the screen. It’s terrifying. Yet amazing.

Another amazing movie is Lars and the Real Girl. The beautiful Ryan Gosling falls in love with a sex doll. It sounds really odd and creepy but it’s actually lovely and made Bam cry. It’s currently showing at the Cornerhouse, you should make the trip.

Here’s something I learnt this weekend – never bite off more than you can chew. You’ll end up in the middle of a dancefloor surrounded by people you don’t even know, competing in an impromptu danceoff, while the DJ spins Run DMC’s ‘It’s Like That’. Everyone will find it funny apart from you. And there will be incriminating photographic evidence. As a side note, if you do happen to find yourself in said situation, avoid challenging the super cool guy who is clearly a very good dancer, thinking you’re better than he is. You’re not, and he will only let you ‘win’ out of pity.

'What's a sociopath?'

On recent trips to the flicks, I saw trailers for 2 upcoming films, 21 and Funny Games. They both look awesome. Don’t believe me – see for yourselves:

21



Funny Games

A.W.A.Y

When listening to this song, you need to make sure the volume is set to LOUD. It will make you want to shoot yourself in the head. In the greatest possible way.



Foals are gracing Manchester again next week. I'm going to see them for the gazillionth time. You should go too.

The 6th Dimension

I went to see Be Kind, Rewind yesterday. I love Michel Gondry, but to be honest, I thought it was only okay. There Will Be Blood is definitely still the best thing currently showing at the cinema. See it see it see it see it.

On Friday night, Magee, Bam and Faye came round. The official plan for the evening was to get a Chinese and some wine and watch an old 80’s B-movie (which was called Forbidden Zone, and was truly terrible – sorry, Magee). We ended up drinking a lot more wine than one bottle, and invented a spoof chat show called Woprah Infrey. We filmed a couple of ‘episodes’, and although they’re funny as hell (we think so, anyway), we’re so shamefully drunk that I’m a little reluctant to post them. So watch this space. If I change my mind, you may soon see me playing Danny Dyer, and hearing Sarah (as fellow chat show host Shelby-Jo Jo Jones) exclaim, in a Southern American accent, ‘I’m the biggest thing on TV since Boy George’.

On Saturday, I met up with Katy at the very early hour of 5pm to buy cheap Aldi booze, went to her house, promptly drank it. At about 9 we rolled into the Night and Day Café to see MGMT. Our vision was a little off, as was our balance, considering the copious amounts of booze that was fermenting in our blood stream, but they were great. Luckily, they played Time to Pretend right at the start of their set, so it has stayed in my memory. The set finished late, so we went to meet Magee, Bam and Victoria in GC and then headed to Overdraft. I was so drunk by this point that I was falling asleep on the table, so Magee put me in a cab. Got in, my sister was up watching Alpha Dog, so I watched it with her (if you haven’t seen it, don’t assume its some rubbish ‘we’re so ghetto’-esque film – it’s actually brilliant) and then fell asleep where I always fall asleep on Saturday nights – the sofa.

Sunday, Steph rang my doorbell at 8.30am. It’s something I will forever resent her for. With my eyes half open, I managed to fumble into my Morning After drawer and pulled out the Anadin and lemonade. Immediately, I felt better, so figured I would go downstairs to see everyone. Long story short, I misjudged the steps and fell all the way down the stairs. Noone in Rachel’s room could talk for laughing. My sister watched in despair from the bathroom, while Charlotte just stood open mouthed, unsure if I was dead or alive. If I ever had to fall down the stairs, it had to be when everyone was in full view. I’m covered in bruises today, I look like a battered wife. Anyway, an hour later, while still stifling laughter, we went to Thomas Cook and begged them to give us a reason to get up every day – a summer break. We have booked to go to Greece in August. I wish I could tell you how much I can’t wait for it. The weather in this country is probably the only thing I hate about it, but it’s so bad that it could be a major force in the increase in suicide rates. The thought of a week in the sun, by the beach, with a gazillion bars all around me is the perfect cure for the ‘it’s Monday morning in Manchester, and it’s fucking snowing’ blues.

Glastonbury update – if you haven’t registered yet, you have 2 weeks left. Get it done!

7 song shuffle

There's something strange in the neighbourhood

I’ve just heard word that the drummer from Vampire Weekend (my new favourite band – ) was hit by a car in London last night and is in hospital with head injuries. Poor bastard. At least his healthcare will be free.

Last night, I had a séance. Well, tried to. Looks like I don’t have the powers within me to channel the spirits of the dead, because fuck all happened. Maybe my new house just isn’t haunted. I grew up in a haunted house, and even though nothing much happened to me post-childhood, it was still a damn eerie house. It just has this atmosphere. The landing is always cold. You’d never stay in it alone and if you did, you had all the lights on. My new house isn’t like that at all. It’s very calm. The only thing that scares us is the constant rumblings in the alley behind the kitchen, leaving us all frozen in our seats looking nervously at one another, wondering what exactly we would do should some maniac climb in through the window. Once, said maniac did climb in through Rachel’s bedroom window. She shot out of bed, told him to fuck off and he did. Crazy days.

So anyway, back to the ghosts. Before I get into it, I’ll clear this up first – yes, I am an atheist, and many people question how an atheist can believe in ghosts, as surely that means there is afterlife, but I read into a lot of Buddhist teachings, which, in a nutshell, state that each body is inhabited by a soul, and as much as I believe that when people die their body will simply perish, the soul can live on. Either in the spirit world or through reincarnation. Besides, there is no way I could have grown up in my parent’s house and not believe in ghosts. They were in every bloody room.

The first one I saw was a little boy called Peter. At first my mum though he was my imaginary friend until one day she said she saw me talking to him and my eyes were fixated on something, as if it were right infront of me, even though to her there was nothing there. I vaguely remember him. We used to play in the living room. I asked him to come to school with me one day and as soon as we left the front door I lost him, and then never saw him again. Then there were the scarier incidents, as we got a little older, like the tape player constantly stopping, rewinding, fast forwarding, all by itself. The night that I was lying in bed and heard a pen rolling across a flat surface, then stop, then roll back again. The night I went to bed with my curtains closed and woke up with them having been pulled open. The weird black figure that ran past the window when me, Vik and Rach were watching a DVD (we looked outside, there was noone there). The time Vik was playing with her new camera phone and took a photo of the landing; when she looked at the picture there was this grey figure at the top of the stairs. The best occurrence ever though, happened to my dad. The only non-believer, oddly enough. Me and Vik had gone on a night out afew years ago, and my dad woke up at about midnight as my Mum has gotten up to go to the bathroom. He saw what he thought was me, standing at their bedroom door waiting for Mum, and then ‘I’ followed her down the landing. He thought nothing of it and went to sleep. The next day he asked me if I was ill.
‘What?’
‘Were you sick last night?’
‘No? What are you on about?’
‘You, last night, in our room. You went with your mother to the bathroom.’
At this point my Mum chimed in: ‘What are you on about? The girls didn’t get in until after 2.’
Dad looked puzzled but said nothing. It was only down to me and Vik badgering him about it later that he told us he’d seen a young blonde girl in a long blue dress following Mum down the landing. I so wish I’d seen that. Ooh, I just remembered another one – afew years ago we were looking through a bag of old photos. There was one from my birthday when I was a kid, and I’m sat on the stairs with my friends and cousins. And then, on the stair behind us is this girl, wearing a very dated dress, just sat smiling. Noone has any idea who this girl is. I’ll try and dig out the picture and scan it, it’s super creepy. I should call Yvette Fielding, get her round. It would make for a killer programme.

An Open Letter to Duffy

Dear Duffy,

After hearing about you on the grape vine for some time now, I decided to look into you further about a month ago. How glad I am that you did. Yes, your song are fabulous, but your talent is what is truly inspiring. I saw you on Jools Holland last week and you are so effortless when you sing; a true talent. You’re at number one, and are about to be thrust into the limelight.

Now, onto the more serious part. The last time I thought this about a new singer was when I saw a certain young female singing over the radio by the name of Amy Winehouse. When I looked her up she, like you, seemed shy, unaware of just how great her voice really is. Perfectly normal looking, a normal figure with long dark hair. Back to Black was later released and yes, she had started up a relationship with some heavy duty liquid eyeliner and ‘dabbled in drugs’, but much was still the same. I bought the album almost immediately as it was so good. And now look at her. So thin she may actually break during high winds, hair that is just plain ridiculous, eyeliner up to her brows, a woeful addiction to heroin and a husband who is ‘incarcerated’ (which she feels she has to remind us of at any given opportunity). It is really very sad, and what with her being Queen of the tabloids these days, the magic in her music is seemingly lost, buried under the tittle tattle and rumours about her dwindling personal life. So Duffy, I ask you this – please take heed. Avoid the seedy clubs, the men who promise the world, the pedestals they will force you upon to make it easier to tear you down. Please just make your music and play your shows, and stay the humble Welsh girl that I saw on TV afew days ago. Be the example others can follow.

Emma

PS: The shoes you were wearing on Jools were killer, please let me have them in return for my sound words of advice.

Now theres a thinker.

So, I saw There Will Be Blood last week, and truly loved it. At the moment, what with awards season, people seem to be choosing their favourite between that and the other big winner, No Country For Old Men. It would seem that people cant possibly like both (kind of in the same way people felt they had to have a favourite between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings 6 years ago, or the Blur / Oasis battle in the 90’s), and although I personally thought the two films were brilliant, There Will Be Blood edges ahead for me. It really is incredible and I urge you all to see it. Daniel Day Lewis’ performance will make your fucking head explode. Look out for the milkshake line.

HOWEVER, after seeing it, I really thought I had it all figured out. ‘Ah,’ myself and my chums mused over beers, ‘so Eli and Paul weren’t really twins, it was a split personality thing’. Further to this, I then told people of my discovery, much in the same way I would brag when I’d finished a particularly informative film class when I was in college (yes, I studied Film at college. No surprises there). But as things tend to always go with me, it looks like I was totally wrong. I have just put the paper down, after reading an article about the film, and as much as the critic did think the same as me after watching, apparently they must have been twins as their father mentions Paul to Eli. So now I’m just confused. I think I may have to read the book. Now, does anyone have any idea where I can get a copy of ‘Oil!’??

Mad fer it.

'They're actors, darling.'

I am a geek. A film junkie. I am aware of this. I devote so much of my life to watching movies, deciphering movies, then showering the people involved with the movies with much adoration. At the moment, I am obsessed over Young Hollywood. Not those awful ‘It’ girls, but the current slew of 20-something year olds who are so talented its scary. There hasn’t been such a great group of actors in a while. Here are my top 5.

Emile Hirsch.

You know him from: The Girl Next Door, Alpha Dog, Into The Wild.
Should have won an award for: Into The Wild.
Is brilliant because: even at his age he is already Oscar-worthy.

Ryan Gosling.

You know him from: The Notebook, unfortunately.
Should have won an award for: Half Nelson.
Is brilliant because: he works so hard. Goes so far with his research and personal characterisation that he even gets fired for it.

Paul Dano.

You know him from: The Girl Next Door, Little Miss Sunshine, Ballad of Jack and Rose, There Will Be Blood.
Should have won an award for: Fuck, everything. His last few films have all been award worthy.
Is brilliant because: he’s a transformer. Plays a different person in every role. Ironically, he could easily be on par with someone like Daniel Day Lewis in 20 years time.

Shia LaBeouf.

You know him from: Even Stevens.
Should have won an award for: Disturbia. Anyone else would have come off as an interfering perve in that role.
Is brilliant because: he shed the Disney shell. Has serious likeability and an effortless acting talent.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

You know him from: 3rd Rock From the Sun, 10 Things I Hate About You.
Should have won an award for: The Lookout, Brick, Mysterious Skin. 3 of my favourite films and he’s been in them all.
Is brilliant because: he shys away from blockbusters, instead choosing to help make incredible indies.

We're all right where were supposed to be

Eyes are more oval shaped, actually.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind people that just because a song is catchy, this does not automatically make it GOOD. The Feeling can actually go fuck themselves. And One Night Only, for that matter. The Enemy, too.

I vant to suck your blaaaad...

Vampire Weekend. Great band, great song, great video. Awful band name, mind.

Fancy a shave?

Ta'ra, MySpace

Facebook has taken over. MySpace, according to Katy, is well and truly dead. So I'm blogging here again.