huge psychotic hippies fencing stolen tellies

D’you know what I hate? Do you?^[1] Well, never fear, I shall reveal all.

What I hate is having a topic to blog about on the way to work, or way back from lunch, but then getting distracted by utter nothingness and forgetting what that topic was. Isn’t it weird the way stuff can just fly out of your head, yet it requires so much effort to get new stuff in there? So I intend to keep typing until an idea either returns, or a new one is born^[2]

Also, fuckers who can’t mute their laptops so I get to hear that lovely windows start-up and shut-down tone over and over and over again. Thats lovely that it. Gorgeous. Do you know what they should do, they should release it as a ring tone.

Which in turn, reminds me of something I don’t hate, but do in fact love. That ad for Amstel beer. Not the one where they are sailing to the new world, cause that’s a bit pants. But the Trojan Horse one. Coupla lads, sitting in Troy’s battlements hear a funny noise from outside. So they take a quick look. Nothing there but a big giant horse^[3] In a not-too-strong-but-very-recognisable dublin accent, one turns to the other and says “D’ya know what we should do? We should bring it inside.”

I swear, that fella has the best possible delivery of that line ever. This big grin on his face like this is the best idea ever. Strike that, it is even better than that :) So all look at each other. Cut to them having a pint, when one of the others repeats the line, in a tone of voice that says nothing but “you fucking daw you”, and we see the horse stuck in the gates. It isn’t the best advert ever made, but I just love the delivery of that line.

And, no. I still haven’t mernembered what it was that I was going to post about. Must be old age.

And now I’ve gone and said that I’ll type til I think of it. This threat might have backfired. I’m still typing, but the inspiration, she be going. then again, I never said my typing had to be words, did I? Maybe I’ll just type random letters, I’ll be like one of those monkeys trying to come up with the works of Shakespeare. Chained to the keyboard for all eternity. Still, I suppose, if that happens I’ll never actually hit publish, and none of you will ever read this…

Oh, guess what. I’ve remembered. Numfar, do the dance of joy.

Course if you are still reading after all that pointless crap you’ll be expecting a big old payoff won’t you? Well, sorry to disappoint, but unless you lower your expectations I can’t help you. My original topic was The Kingdom of Heaven, yes, the silly film with Orlando Bloom and many many more big names.

Flatmate bought it over the weekend, and we watched it last night after Life on Mars. Well, we watched part of it. I was only going to watch until Lamb^[4] died, but then I got distracted by Brendan Gleeson’s great mad bastard character. But, back to the dot beside the point, wasn’t that a terrible, terrible film? In what world did it make sense?

First off, why exactly were we supposed to empathise with Balian^[5] as he killed the priest for saying bad things about his dead wife? Surely it was a hell of a lot worse to actually burn someone alive no?

And how in the hell did Balian become such a gorram weapons expert? Maybe all that sword practice he did as a blacksmith in Pirates of the Carribean paid off?

And yet, despite all that shite, it is quite watchable. I mean, I wouldn’t go out of my way t turn it on, but it does have Gleeson’s mad dancing murderous soldier, and I could listen to Jeremy Irons anyday^[6] and of course lovely Lamb.

You know what, they should remake that film, only remove the Orlando bits. Oh, and the pointless love story. just keep the mad bastards. It’d be so much more fun don’t you think?