That Chris Rock essay everyone's talking about is really good.

But don't take my word for it.

The Victoria Secret show thing is kind of bullshit

I... don't really have that much more to say about it but maaaaan to misquote the greatest movie of all time I do not think the show is about what it says it's about.

In which I quote from the Bible for what I assume will be the first and last time.

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

- St. Paul

Via floccinaucinihilipilificationa

Things that are making me happy today

This this blog exists. That I found this blog. That this blog is probably one of many devoted to this particular (and, might I say, particularly hot) maybe-couple. Sometimes the internet is a wonderful thing

Things I have wanted to post on Facebook this week but cannot because I like my job

FUCK. OFF.

"Hammond, after some consideration, I've decided not to endorse your park"

I have long nursed a serious lady boner (sorry) for the original Jurassic Park franchise. I loved the original book/movie, ditto the follow-up, The Lost World, and the third movie... well, like the rest of the world I signed off on an agreement to pretend that shit sandwich never existed so let's not dwell. 

The original movie in particular is - to me - is a genuine action classic and barely a month goes by without me quoting the line: "Clever girl".... usually at Andy for being almost as clever as a Velociraptor (but probably not quite). It's also a movie that has given me recurring nightmares, including one in which I try to escape the T-Rex by - for reasons unknown - zipping myself inside one of the cushions of my old family couch. Yeeeeeeah. I probably wouldn't survive long in the wild.

Anyways, all of this is a long-winded way of saying that I am 100 per cent excited by the prospect of the latest installment, Jurassic World, even if it's still a good 8 months away. Chris Pratt? Check. Cheap scares? Check. Life finding a way? Double check. At this point I am so so so over superhero movies (my beloved X-Men not withstanding) that I'm especially thrilled by the possibility of a spectacle-type movie that doesn't involve spandex or - God help us - another fucking origin story.

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character."

(Paul Newman)

I'm making a lasagne

I'm not crying. I've just been... cutting onions. But you should probably follow that link and watch the video so long as you're not, I don't know, in a public place or at work where people will think you're a blubbering weirdo.

Wednesday morning reading: Sam de Brito's "Stop whingeing about ABC job cuts" column

Food for thought.

Bar conversations that suggest I may need to get out more.

Her: Is this Shake it Off?

Me: Um, I'm pretty sure I recognise it from my Body Pump class.

I don't believe in God but...

... the evidence is stacking up. First, someone took my all-time favourite superhero franchise and decided to cast super hotties Michael Fassbender and James McEvoy in the reboot of the films. Amazing.

Now they've decided too much of something is, you know, wonderful, and have cast one of my many new movie boyfriends, Oscar Isaac, in the next instalment. Sure, he's supposedly a villain but surely it's not too much to ask that at some point Professor X and Magneto have to team up to take him down in some kind of... hot tub scenario. I mean, that could happen. Sans towels.

Anyway, really I just wanted to say thanks Jebus: I knew that if you did exist you'd be a big homo and into exactly the same kind of dudes as me.

Scenes from a delightful weekend away:

Explaining slash fiction to a colleague with the words: "So if, like, you thought Harry and Draco should have hooked up..."

(Artwork via fanpop)

My new movie boyfriend: Lee Pace

Maybe all men should just wear eyeliner... forever. (Via gothiccharm school)

No jokes, just a recommendation

Fair to say it's pretty hard for most of us to imagine what it would feel like to be trapped inside the wrong body. Harder still to imagine how you process all that if you're a little kid, not to mention if you're the parent of that little kid. It's the morning after I watched last night's episode of Four Corners, featuring transgender kids, and I can't stop thinking about it. That's the power of great and important journalism: when it can make you feel simultaneously sad and happy, powerless and fired up. If you missed it, catch up on iView - it's the best episode I've seen all year.

N.B: On a related note, this article popped up on my Facebook feed today offering an adult perspective on similar issues. I tend to think of myself as an open-minded person (don't we all) and it got me thinking about my tendency to want to put labels on things so, um, yeah. There you go.

If you had a burning desire to see my boyfriend Benedict Cumberbatch do some celebrity impressions and generally be delightful...

... Um, wish granted.

Killer Serial

You may have heard me crap on about my latest addiction: The Serial podcast.

I'm sorry about this, I know I've been shoving it down the throats of friends and family lately.

But also, totally not sorry because it's awesome and I'm doing you a big fat favour by recommending it and giving you the opportunity catch up with a binge listen. It's not exaggerating to say I give a little wheeee of glee every week when the next episode comes out. I have strict rules about where and how I'll listen to it: I have to be able to listen to it all in one go, I try to avoid the possibility of any distractions. I want so much to keep clear in my head all the different characters so, you know, I can get into some wild speculation.

If you're not convinced by my insistence Serial is great and worthy of your time, perhaps you'll listen to The Wall Street Journal? I mean, those guys are smart. They understand numbers and everything. They could probably do your taxes if they wanted.

Testify!

All the seas of joy/ Sound wonderfully near/ Since you've been here

As a teenager I had a big ol' crush on Samuel Johnson, who then played a starring role in not just my fantasies but the popular and really rather good TV show The Secret Life of Us. It helped that he bore (I felt) a passing resemblance to the real life object of yet another (somewhat unrequited) crush: the spritely young chap who would eventually become my husband. (Sidenote: I recently found an old diary which actually drew parallels between my crush on Andy and Samuel's character's crush on Claudia Karvan so... yeah. I was so young and so delusional back them. Also seems like I had kind of a lot of spare time on my hands).

Anyway, I grew out of my Samuel Johnson crush but had I known then what I know now, I suspect I would never have given it up and may have developed into a borderline stalker of the poor bastard because maaaaan he's done a really awfully nice piece of writing for the Saturday Paper this week. You can and you should read it here. If you need me I'll be on the couch mainlining The Secret Life of Us.