The Worlds End – a very quick review

I can honestly say I enjoy every piece of work that Simon Pegg has been involved in. He is intelligent, witty and comes across as completely genuine at all times. Nick Frost, the same. When I received a surprise email this past year letting me know that a sort of, kind of, sequel to Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead was due for release this year, I was ecstatic. I was I can honetly say completely happy with the resulting film. It is true comedic genius. The cast, many of whom have been in so, so many of previous Edgar Wright’s films and tv shows, were perfect in their delivery and zing. It was an absolutely enjoyable romp. And yes, when it was all over, I took my wife Karen and my two eldest to a pubbish restaurant for dinner and had a pint in honour of the film.

A perfect comedy movie.

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Public thank you for the ridiculous increase in subscribers and general website traffic this month specifically and this year in general. It’s like you are all patiently waiting for something..

Oh right. Book.

Yes yes.  On it. Oooh shiny

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Looking over from my car I saw the young woman in the dark blue minivan open her mouth, then close it, then re-open it all within a second or two.  She had tried to stifle a yawn.  She had failed.  She failed as some would say, “miserably”.  She gave into said yawn.  The woman let go of the steering wheel (thankfully she was stopped at the intersection, same as I) and leaned back about four inches, raised her hands and arms in a failed attempt to stretch over her head, realizing too late that she was in fact driving a van and the roof was over her head a mere half foot or so.  Her arms then moved behind her head as  the mouth opened to an enormous size not unlike a human imitation of a roaring lion or more accurately a curly headed hyena. The light changed mid-stretch before she had even completed her bizarre set of shuddering full upper body gesticulatory motions and she looked over toward me.  There she was, elbows at eye level, mouth agape, hands half clenched, half like gnarled twigs on an old apple or oak tree and our eyes met.  Mine were I know full-on large and my smile, already in motion toward a grin, grew in bemusement at the realization that she knew full well how frigging retarded she looked at that moment.  She hit the gas in obvious embarrassment before she had even regained composure.  It was a good beginning to my day.

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The Sister’s Call

Jorge stared into the fog
He heard his sister there
Were she alive and not long dead
T’would not have caused a scare

In the moon lit mist she spoke
Asked him in to see
A special secret that she held
He turns ‘pon heel to flee

She yelled aloud and called his name
He paused to turn his head
The fog curled tight round both his knees
One look and he was dead

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