Do It Now!

I saw this vid on the internet and quite frankly found it to be very inspirational.

I had expected Ridley Scott to come off as being a bit condescending, but as it turns out he's really nothing like James Cameron. :)

Ridley Scott as you may already know is the Director of such iconic films as Alien and Blade Runner which pretty much saved the Sci-Fi genre from a future populated by cutesy, adaptable aliens with sure-fire merchandising deals.

(As a side note, rumours are rampant on the internet regarding an Alien Prequel to be called Alien Harvest. For more you can read here: http://www.aintitcool.com/node/44796 )

He also brought us movies such as Gladiator (which brought back the whole 'blood and sand' genre), Thelma & Louise and GI Jane - which made Demi Moore the highest paid actress in the world.

All told, this is some of the best advice I have ever seen dispensed by a film-maker - by one of the biggest and influential directors of his time.

In a nutshell, if you are a would-be filmaker (performer, artist, etc) don't ever let anyone or anything get in the way of your dream. Just do it!

A voyage of a thousand miles begins with a single, simple step - and in Mr Scott's case, that step came in the form of the seemingly non-chalant epiphany of doing what he loves on a subject that he already thoroughly knew.

Hey, but don't read what I have to say about it. Watch it for yourself right here:

Hot Pussy of the Day: Ebony

Well guys - same routine. Today's Hot Pussy is this gorgeous black, short-hair domesticated queen aptly named 'Ebony'.






Ebony apparently has a sweet temparment and has received all her shots and has been spayed - so need to worry about those sleepless nights when puss takes forever to come home.

If you are a responsible pet owner and you are looking for the unconditional affection that you can only get from a pussy, then please contact Gina at Vinmer. The number there is 628-2773.

Save a Life. Save your Soul - Its that simple.

Blast from an obscure past: Carib Light

By now, we are all no doubt acquainted with the new Carib Brewery offering: Carib Pilsner Light. And the very slick press, radio and television advertising campaign that seeks to position it as somewhat of an enlightened choice - an aspirational choice to be enjoyed by the privileged few but ideal for the tastebuds of the dispirited many.


But few may recall that this is not Carib's first salvo into the world of niche products such as a 'light' beer. Now turn your clocks back to 1988 and a T&T that was broken in spirit and (very often) 'broken to tief'.

Times were hard then and the marketing minds at the brewery for some reason thought that the downtrodden would actually rise to the challenge of consuming more to get the same 'buzz' - especially given that so many were shiftless at that time. A light beer would be a god-send to those who had the need to waste away their days with their bellies pulled up to the counter of their favorite rum-shop.


With very little fanfare and the consumer credibility of a 'fart in a mitten', Carib launched Carib Light in 1988 and in support there was this ad:






At $2.25 today, this would be a winning proposition. But bear in mind that a bottle of regular beer retailed at $1.99 back then. In the minds of the consumer, he was being asked to spend more to consume less alcohol. And in a value conscious environment such as this one, that could never work.


Similarly, I tend to recall that there were issues with the taste of the product and more specifically an aftertaste that made imbibing this as pointless as 'Decaf' coffee.


Lastly, and in hindsight, I am of the view that they got the branding all wrong too. From the choice of the 'brown bottle' to the sea-foam green and yellow label to the understated presence of the Carib logo to the bad positioning - this should be a case study for all would-be marketers. The lesson: be careful how you diversify because some niches are just not worth it. Be careful how you stretch your brand because the negative connotations that come with one line-extension could do a dis-service to the originating brand.


So far, it would appear that Carib has gotten things right this time around with Carib Pilsner Light. Not only does the product taste great but the campaign is strong all round and the packaging is impeccable. Kudos Carib! Now if only we could get them to bring back that $2.25 price tag?

Hot Bitches of the Day (Volume 1)

And now for a new segment in this blog which will be forever known as 'Hot Bitches and Pretty Pussies' of the Day. :)

Today, we have a special treat: no fewer than FIVE featured bitches as shown below.

These beauties (all pompek and all female) are approximately six weeks old and they are all presently in need of a stable and loving home.

If you are interested in opening your hearts and homes to a wonderful and loving companion for life, then please call Gina at Vinmer Vetinary Clinic at 628-2773. They should be ready to move in with you in about four weeks - after a succesful home check and their spaying of course.

You will never ever regret being the adopted parent to your very own fur-kid. And as I always say: Save a Life. Save your Soul.

Lindsay goes to Summer Camp. (And by Summer Camp I mean, Prison).

So unless you live under a rock, you've probably heard by now that Lindsay Lohan has been brutally mistreated by the justice system (READ: they have finally had enough of her bull$h!t) and has been sentenced to ninety days in prison for violating the terms of her probation. Now, one need not have been a psychic or an octopus to have seen this one coming from a mile away. She had been crusin for this bruisin for quite some time.




After years of bad parenting, bad relatiionships and bad career advice Lindsay's star has certainly dimmed to just a fraction of what it had been when she was a teenager (READ: easier to manage). Surely it is now patently obvious that her problems require a much more serious intervention than Prison can reasonably offer. 90 days can either seem like an eternity for someone like LiLo or it could be a night out. Either way, the t-shirts have been printed (see below courtesy of http://www.bustedtees.com/) and it will be remembered.



In fact, if I hadnt known better (and mind you I dont really but I am assuming from the sobs and tears in court yesterday) - if I hadn't known better, I would have thought that this latest twist in LiLo's life has been carefully orchestrated not to bring her the notoriety, fortune or emotional support that would be craved by another more normal individual - but instead to bring Lindsay into a close and regular supply of butch carpet munchers, illegal drugs and alcohol - all of which will be in ready, unfettered and unmonitored supply in lock-up.






So, ninety days in Prison will for Lindsay be nothing more than Summer Camp. Hopefully the experience does not serve to fuck her up more than she already is FUCKED UP. But am I the only who sees this whole thing as being a bit messed up in that why didnt they schedule the 90 days in Rehab so that it occurs BEFORE she gets sent up river?






And the timing could either be seen as being a blessing or a curse in that Lindsay is scheduled to star in a film about porn actress Linda Lovelace starting this September. A turn which could just get her career back on track or based on the career missteps of the past five years, it could have turned out to be a 'pathway drug' that would have taken her to actually charging for baring her breasts and making some real money every time she allegedly went down on someone in a Nightclub Bathroom for coke.

In the end, its hard to feel true sympathy for Lindsay Lohan. Lindsay is yet another in a line of self-absorbed, over-indulged meal-tickets who appear to be unaware of the consequences of their actions let alone their responsibilty for them. Even at sentencing yesterday, Lindsay made the unwise decision to wear the customized manicure job shown above. No doubt intended to be some rebellious show of defiance to the 'man' or the 'system' or whatever it is that people like her refer to it nowadays. But at the end of the day, I think we can all agree to be part of the big communal 'FUCK YOU BACK!' that was deserved and dispensed yesterday in that Los Angeles courtroom in the hope that perhaps this time it will mark the beginning of some lasting, irrefutable change in Miss Lohan's life.

One way or the other, this Sunday the Dutch are going to choke cum Sunday.

http://http//guyism.com/2010/07/bobbi-eden-dutch-porn-star-offers-sex-to-twitter-followers.html

I, for one, am not too certain as to when the line was crossed - but it has become patently obvious that at least as far as this current edition of the World Cup is concerned, sport and sex DO mix. Be it the early concerns that pre-game day sexcapades affected the performance of some of the tournament's would be stars (such a the Spanish Goalkeeper Iker Casillas) or perhaps even the effect that the lack of physical contact with the infamous WAGs might have had on England's hopes in South Africa - sex has had its fair share of bylines in World Cup 2010.

Even before they had arrived in South Africa, the Lions had been thrown into tumult over allegations that their captain, John Terry, had had relations with the girlfriend of one of his team-mates (Wayne Bridge). Terry was subsequently stripped of his armband and on the basis of their performance, the team of its teeth long before the embarrassment of their one-all opening tie with the United States.

On the latter subject, there were allegations that England goalkeeper Robert Green's 'howling' error that gave the americans a share of the points that day may have been the result of what we in Trinidad would term a 'tabanca' - a love sickness due to his relationship problems with Elizabeth Minnett (yet another model). Hey, my problem with this trend is simple: when did the love lives of the English footballers start to be more exciting than the game that they played?

Both Diego Maradona and Carlos Dunga both admitted the need for their charges to express themselves in the bedroom in order to insure the best of their creativity on the field. And surely, they were not alone in their 'soft' stance when it came to their players' sex lives continuing unabated.

Added to this, the reports of the record numbers of 'sex-workers' reportedly coming into South Africa for the tournament. And now the most amusing trend of all: promises by random persons to perform some sort of socially unacceptable act should their team win the world cup. A trend, which oddly enough was started by no less a figure than Diego Maradona who promised to run through the streets of Buenos Aires naked if Argentina brought home the cup. Gratefully, the soccer gods ignored that wager and Maradona returned home fully clothed.

Since Maradona however there have been international reports of other persons including Paraguayan lingerie model Larissa Riquelme promising to run through the streets of Asuncion naked should her beloved team be the winner. Judging from some of the Photographs of Miss Riquelme on the internet however, she is not promising to expose anything that anyone in the world with a dial-up connection can already see. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but one would expect that you'd want to promise something quite out of the ordinary when you're making these deals with God.

And now to the news item that has brought me to my log at two in the morning: in celebration of the Netherlands Semi-Final victory on Tuesday, Bobbi Eden, a Dutch porn actress, has promised blow-jobs to all of her followers on Twitter. Immediately, her pool of followers has grown by fifty percent to eight thousand strong and one expects that as this story makes its way around the world, that that number would grow exponentially between now and the Final on Sunday - provided of course that football fans can put down the pint and stop talking about this World Cup long enough to figure out just how one goes about 'following' someone on Twitter.

Personally, I'm going to take a pass on Bobbi's offer - not that its not an attractive one and certainly not because Bobbi and her band of merry 'bobbers' are unattractive - because they appear to be quite so. Instead my apprehension has everything to do with the fact that I have no intention of being anyone's sloppy seconds let alone seven thousandths! In any event, it would appear that this Sunday, either the Dutch team (which already has a long history of crumbling under the weight of expectation) or the Dutch Women are going to CHOKE. And I for one have no intention of being the victim of either gag reflex.

Naaaah, they werent so greeeeeaat after all!

In a true testimony of how the human brain works, my mind wandered by the cage housing that pre-Crack, crack-addict Tony the Tiger this morning.

Tony the Tiger - just in case you have been under a rock for sixty years - is the grand-daddy of cereal mascots and more specifically he has been 'pushing' these sugar bombs on an unsuspecting public for the past three generations. Millions of cavities and cases of juvenile diabetes later, Tony the Tiger stepped out of his cage and onto this page today, and in so doing reminded me: You can't always get what you want.

Perhaps it was the Rolling Stones (or George Michael) who sung it best, but it was a photo posted by a friend on Facebook today of IHOP's infamous Strawberry Banana pancakes that reminded me of a more innocent time and the assertion that I should be able to eat Kellogs Frosted Flakes for all my main meals and as a snack in between.

Thankfully, the monotony that accompanies repetition kicked in long before a sugar induced coma or infantile obesity and I was spared from the Tiger's claws - then! And the adjunct to the main lesson was then made clear: You should never always get what you want.

And so it is that I suppose that fate has once again saved me the ignomious distinction of being the fattest man alive by placing the nearest IHOP at least 1,628 miles away. But I get ahead of myself. This blog was really meant as a reminder that sometimes 'sugar' can make you do the most fucked up things. And here we can readily replace 'sugar' with anything else that is self serving, self-indulgent and utterly addictive.

In my life, I have eaten my way to the bottom of a large box of cereal, collected the baseball cards that were to be found there, snuck out of the house, cheated, lied, willfully inflicted hurt (on myself and on others) and even paid too much just to have a taste. Without ever once having an accusatory finger pointed at me. Never admitting to myself that I am an addict. Addicted to the pleasures that I have stumbled upon on this side of what is legislated and morally (for the most part) acceptable.

And though I could look back at my charmed life and down at a body (and mind) that has been (relatively) unscathed I've never been more than a few steps ahead of that Tiger's claws.

And although initially I have been a victim of suave merchandizing, slick advertising, and the sated mumblings of the addicts before me, one thing remains true: its always been about the sugar. And it will always continue to be about the sugar.

Word to the wise: Stay away from the sugar!




Stay Away from the sugar


My bleary eyes stir
restless circles into my bowl
of stale cornflakes,
grown soggy
with tears of frustration
and resentment.

And the somber epiphany
That the Tiger
has had me like a spoon by the tail
Long before
The soured milk
had been poured.

I am drowning;
a tea bag hung perilously above
The waves and the outstretched lips and teeth
put away: Blowing softly
Over the decades
and raging seas.

Over the sound of
My own shill voice
Calling out from the inside of the big blue box,
Screaming,
‘Fuck You Tony the Tiger!’
‘You’re not so Grrrrrreeeaaaaat after all!’