It Happened One Night

If you love romantic comedies, then do watch The Original Romantic Comedy, “It Happened One Night.” Mostly I love it because Clark Gable (best known as Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind) is the lead male in it.

That’s about it. Well there’s a lot of other factors but I’m going to concentrate on that.

Apart from the hilarious chemistry between the wealthy young heiress and the roguish reporter, it’s just the fact that the entire film is just so darn classy. From the outfits to the utmost sense of propriety at certain moments of the film, it reminds me of a time when showing ankles was complete blasphemy.

Clark Gable is probably the inspiration for the movie stars today who create characters that laugh and ridicule at their women but probably would swoosh them away at the first sight of danger. In all the movies that I’ve watched him in, he has consistently and flawlessly carried off the derisive-smile-turn-on-the-heel-and-smirk thing. Oh, and you have to love the way he says, “SHUT UP.”

There will never be another Clark Gable but I’m glad generations will still remember him and be inspired by his effortless lift of the eyebrow classiness. Cheers.

Naj and the Jekyll/Hyde Syndrome

Well it’s lunch break and I find myself sitting alone in the office again listening to Elvis rockin’ in his Blue Suede Shoes.

I’ve noticed that a rather odd phenomenon has happened in which my personality has been cut cleanly into two like a pear, or an apple, or an orange, or a mangosteen… okay you get the gist.  While at school I was sort of talkative (kinda) and can I say, gregarious, now I’m kind of the lone freak in the corner that gets to the office 15 minutes before the receptionist and starts up the desktop in the dark.

I feel quite mad. Not mad angry, more like mad hatter mad. Not quite mad The Joker mad but closer to mad I -might-want-to-wear-a-fruit-hat-to-work mad.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am SO bored by the people around me that I’ve slowly withdrawn into myself and kind of enjoy this loner business. I am after all the only one in the office wearing Chuck Taylor’s. Tomorrow, I may be the only one in the office that insists on wearing two ties and a neon shirt that changes colour when it’s wet, WHO KNOWS?

Hands up if you’re guilty of this semi-bipolarishness! Don’t be shy now, your other personality won’t remember in the morning.

ANTM – Cycle 11

AHOY THAR BE SPOILERS >>>

Goodbye Isis

Okay so, I’ve just watched the latest episode of ANTM and I am going NUTS! I can’t believe Isis, the first transgender contestant has just been voted out. What a completely sad day it is – I thought she was going to go really really far… or at least farther than Clark. Yechh. I could almost imagine Clark giggling madly to herself inside her head when she heard Isis not getting that last picture. Horrible.

Do read more of my lovely thoughts…

Cyd Charisse

I just found this picture and I needed to share it because it’s just so… perfect.

What a bombshell.

Old School Dance Songs – 90’s Style

My favourite ever songs to get cray-zay too!

I love the ’special effects’ and the dramatic zooming in and out. Don’t forget the clothes man… it was all about the head splitting colours.

/Edit: I can’t believe I forgot this one.

Where do you go? Where do you go?  Where do you go?

The 50’s, the 60’s and me being weepy.

I don’t know why but I feel a little teary when I watch movies like Calamity Jane, A Star is Born and Breakfast at Tiffany’s amongst other movies. I just love the dignity in which the characters carry themselves in and also the fact that they were triple threats – singers, dancers and actors.

They just don’t make them like that anymore, do they.

Fred Astaire was 55 at the time. Amazing.

Nifty Bedrooms

I looooooooove this.

Walk-in space under the bed. :3

NOM.

George Lucas…

I know I’ve been posting a lot of Star Wars themed stuff but this was too good to ignore.

LOL

A house is not a home…

I’m sure that every person has had their own idea of what kind of life they would have “once they grew up”. Being in the sort of family that moved around often and unfortunately, not stay long enough in one place to really grasp the concept of having neighbours that borrowed sugar and ridiculous ingredients, I always fantasised that I’d stay in a place that was surrounded with friends.

Not just any friends, friends that would let me probably walk into their homes freely (er but not too freely and see something) and you know play pictionary with. Or probably bake cupcakes with. Or probably just steal magazine subscriptions from.

I guess while things change over the years, that fantasy hasn’t changed at all. While I’d love to live in a comfortable house it doesn’t have to be particularly big – as long as it was a home (oh, and had a room for me to paint and draw and go wild in and was probably soundproofed teehee). I imagine huge windows and french doors and plenty of sunlight to boot. Citrus colours will probably be the theme of the house and I imagine while it might be slightly messy it would never be absolutely dirty. I’m a bit of a neat freak at the end of the day.

I think the most important thing is that I live near people who I can actually genuinely call friends and not neighbours who I constantly have to up the ante with, if you know what I mean.

The funny thing about this fantasy is that it revolves mostly about the friends bit. I mean the house is not so important. It could actually mean just living in a tiny apartment but as long as I have friends living in the same building or along the same street could probably make me just as happy.

I guess I was in a way deprived of having the type of childhood that allowed me to simply walk to a friend’s place and just lounge about for a bit and go back to my own abode in time for dinner.

I have to tell you, I’m definitely envious of the Sloth’s own neighbourhood.

Ah well. I’m young yet. Fantasies can still be achieved.