Comic Relief #100

I guess the 100th Comic Relief wouldn't be complete without a mention of cats and Jessica Alba. Trust Kania and Jonno to be so considerate as to supply me with the neccessary means to commemorate the occasion with a couple of my favourite things.

Someone tried to sketch a heart on my knee today, with one of those felt-tipped pen/marker hybrids. You know, the kind that has a "fine" and "medium" end and comes in all sorts of fascinating colours like pink and lime green and dirt brown. This was purple.

Typical of the way things have been going, the heart ended up looking like a headless, legless, proboscis-less butterfly, something I helpfully pointed out as Kerri put in the finishing touches of the rather sad-looking masterpiece.

Of course, she added antennae and a few squiggles that vaguely resembled legs (though if they were, it would have been one hell of a lame insect in every sense of the word).

Still, it got me thinking.

Do affairs of the heart really work out the way we all hope they will? The way we are told they will? The way two people fall for each other, totally, truly, honestly, sincerely, eternally as they so often do in books and TV and the silver screen?

Or does it just always end up messy, something other than what you mean and want, leaving you with nothing else but to salvage what you can and turn it into something else entirely?

...And maybe watch it fly off, or fade with time.

A Lack of Communication

My phone is now officially crazy.

I apologise in advance for any missed calls or unreplied messages.

Thank You Note

Thank you,

To the ones who have bombarded me with things like "Are you ok?"

To the one who baked and did an (impressive) impression of Comic Relief on paper wrapping.

To the one who understood that it was difficult to talk.

To the one who had us over and made me laugh and wince at the same time.

To the one who offered to listen, even when burdened with problems.

And thank you,

To you who bothered, when I didn't.

Comic Relief #99

Comic Relief #98

Comic Relief #97

Comic Relief #96

If I had added three pizza's, eating butter from one's fingers, and someone squeaking wildly while apparently dry-humping the floor, it would have been a very accurate depiction of Valentine's 2008 for me.

I'm not pointing any fingers, but you know who you are.

Comic Relief #95

Sunset

Something inside me died today,
When I watched the sun fall into the sea.
My heart choking, drowning
In the salty tide upon my cheeks.
And her outstretched hand upon the tabletop,
Unanswered but for the question,
Why?

Comic Relief #94

Because I couldn't do it the way you wanted.

The Demon Barber

There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,
And it's filled with people who are filled with shit,
And the vermin of the world inhabit it.

I like that. From Johnny Depp & Tim Burton's latest collaboration, Sweeney Todd. I just caught it a couple of days ago, here's what I think.

Alot of people I've spoken to offer either "I gave up on Depp after Willy Wonka" or "A musical? sheesh." To the former, I would have to agree. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was shit. The book was awesome; reading it multiple times as a kid really got me going.

As for those who would bash the movie becuase it's a musical, therein lies my chief complaint about the film. Too much singing. There, I said it. The movie opens with a sailor (no, not Matt Damon) singing about going to London, before Depp - dark eyes and all - interjects singing about how London is really unlike anywhere else in the world, but for different reasons altogther than those floating around the pretty sailor's feeble brain. Of course, he forgot to mention Arsenal, Chelsea and Tottenham.

From there, the movie moves at an alright pace, with more songs to guide the (hopefully) enthralled audience along the dusty scenes. The exchange between Todd and his "landlady" in what would become (or was) his barbershop was actually really good, I thought.

Then there's Jack Sparrow vs Borat, another nice exchange, leading to the first...

Well, I won't give the plot away.

But suffice to say, I thought the movie bloody funny. Literally. Just have to listen, and try not to cringe.

PS: If you are going to watch it, don't bring any food with chili inside, or at least eat it quickly before... well, before.

Comic Relief #93

Comic Relief #92

As requested, Elizabeth now appears with her trademark lashes.

Yes, those squiggly lines are lashes. Give me a break. They're stick figures!

Comic Relief #91

Comic Relief #90

Comic Relief #89

Sometimes, siblings can be oh-so-blunt. Wonderfully, hilariously, painfully comically blunt. Introducing Khadi's sister Irah and her brother Naqib.

Cloverfield

I thought it was a beer commercial. You know the type. Party, rugged-looking guy with fun-looking friends, laughing and toasting with girls seeming to gravitate towards them as the camera pans round.

But I was wrong...

I've been waiting for Cloverfield, or "that JJ Abrams movie", for a long time now. Having just seen it, I don't quite know what to say.

Most people just call it "Blair Witch meets Godzilla", and I feel that that would be an unfair analogy. Sure, it's a monster/disaster flick caught in shaky hand-held camera angles, but it's different at the same time.

I've told a few people that I thought I Am Legend was a good film, but lacking something that would have made it great. I think this one falls under that category as well. It might be the weird plot holes (if that's what you want to call them) or simply the cinematography which left one of my friends with motion sickness, but I guess it's just the fact that it was alot of "Oh my God did you see that what is it we are all going to die I love you" and too little RRAAARRGGGHH.

Yeah.

I'm not a fan of movies that over-emphasize the action or thrill aspect of a story, but maybe this one took (the attempt at) character development too far. For a film that's under two hours (and I'm being kind), I felt the director spent too much time with the party, and not enough with the carnage.

I would say, however, that I'm not a fan of popcorn. How does that factor into anything at all? Well, I usually only bother getting myself a decently-sized beverage for my cinematographic pleasure, and Cloverfield is one of the rare few movies whereby I left the theatre without finishing the drink. Instead of me slowly (or quickly) sipping my Coke as the movie runs, there were more than a few periods throughout the film where it seemed altogether riveting.

Periods, yes. Unfortunately, those periods were punctuated by other periods of, well, times that didn't run too well. That, and the lack of "closure" that some might complain about after the movie and the afore-mentioned plot holes that can only be explained by stretched logic (and kinda ruins the wow-factor) leaves something to be desired.

Still, I wouldn't say that it sucked, just that I left the theatre with a thoughtful expression on my face.

A rating? That's probably the most difficult question I've been asked this year. I liked it and hated it. It's weird and different and unique and fresh and brave and surprising and provoking, in a good and bad way at the same time.

Hmm.

Comic Relief #88

This one's for that special one who's always been there to irritate me and make me laugh at the same time, the one who seems to care too much sometimes, the one who lets me take that extra piece of garlic bread because she pretends to be too full, the one who bothers to watch movies that she knows she won't enjoy, the one who sits beside my grandmother in hospital, smiling and trying her hardest to be friendly, the one who creates things from wood and glass and feathers and paint and photographs and glue and flower petals, the one who sends text messages detailing her states of inebriation, the one who insists on waking me up at ungodly hours but makes me feel its worth it anyway.

Yes, I still love her after all this time.

Comic Relief #87

Comic Relief #86

Here's a "guest submission" by a certain Meryl-Lyla. It's pretty unique, I guess, if not overly disturbing...

Comic Relief #85

Happy 80 Months Anniversary to the girl above, by the way.

Comic Relief #84

This is why I laugh so much when I'm out with my girlfriend.

Comic Relief #83

Comic Relief #82

Comic Relief #81

Comic Relief #80

Comic Relief #79

The Eve

It's New Year's Eve eve today. The last Sunday of 2007.

Alot's happened this year; mostly good, for which I am thankful.

I'm not one for well-thought out resolutions (or well-thought out anythings, come to think of it), so I hope everyone who reads this has had a good year behind them, and a good year ahead.

Comic Relief #78

Comic Relief #77

Comic Relief #76

Selamat Hari Raya!

Comic Relief #75

Comic Relief #74

Comic Relief #73

In Short

Lately it seems like I've been watching a load of movies; here's my take on a few.

The Golden Compass

Imagine, if you will, a cross between Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia, Star Wars and Dr. Dolittle. That's essentially what you get here, minus Legolas, lightsabres and a black man. You do, however, get a small person with a shiny golden artifact, mysterious parentage and talking bears. A thin plot peppered by flat acting from some of the supporting cast doesn't help matters either, and lines like "You'd better hope they're on your side if they choose to attack" really spoil what might have been a somewhat decent movie. Cheap thrills of crying out "Dooku" and "Saruman" perhaps salvaged the experience.

3/5 from me, having risen from 2 just for the "I am your mother." "Noooooo!" exchange.

Hitman

I'm a huge fanboy of the series from Eidos. Every other game glorifies killing, but Hitman makes it stylish and innovative. In no other game can a skinny bald dude be so cool. The movie, sadly, takes every element of what makes the game awesome and rubbishes them all. Firstly, 47 talks. Alot. And he jokes. And flirts. No fibre wire. A single instance of disguising as a bystander. A long, drawn-out sword-fight with three other hitmen. Need I go on? Again, a plot thinner than tissues serves little to detract from the fact that the absolute best candidate for 47, Jason Statham, is not in it.

Another 3/5.

The Tattooist

On of the best ever locally-made films. But that's only because it was co-produced by a foreign company and I don't really have that many things to compare it to. As a horror film, it's actually pretty lame. The biggest scare was a scene where a girl hurls a cup or vase at the lead actor, shattering it against the wall. Only because it was unexpected. The "ghost" or "demon" is about as scary as Katie Holmes' new hairdo, and the leading girl isn't anywhere near hot or cute. In fact, her nose looks like she's been in a few bar-room brawls. The other girl, which I previously mentioned, is actually better looking, but she acts about as badly as Dida.

2/5, and I'm being kind.

30 Days of Night

I Am Legend is the reason I am looking forward to Christmas this year. But I thought I'd settle for this vampire flick while waiting. And realised I would have been better off watching Buffy. The TV series, not the horrendous movie. At least that one had a hot Sarah Michelle Gellar.

2/5. Seriously.

The Mist

1408 was a total letdown. With that in mind, I watched this new Stephen King movie expecting more of the same. However, I've had three days to watch this, and I'm not done. There's still the better part of an hour left, and I can't see myself going through with it at this point in time. I'm not sure what that says. The visuals are cheesy though.

?/5

Ones to watch out for:

I Am Legend - I hope the reviews are wrong
Awake - Alba
Cloverfield - Looks killer
Jumper - I want to see this, surprisingly
Iron Man - The latest poster is so badass
AVP:Requiem - Fanboy
The Dark Knight - Ditto

Ones I am not keen on watching:

Alvin and the Chipmunks - The Christmas carols have killed any semblance of hype
Mr Magrioum's Wonder Emporium - Ripoff of Willy Wonka

A Visitor

Not quite Comic Relief this time. Here's something a few of you might have heard before. If you haven't, I hope you enjoy it, as much as anyone can, at least.

The square of light flickered in the darkness, a blackness that seemed almost liquid in its fluidity. Or perhaps it was only because his glasses were cast aside as he prepared to embrace his slumber.

The air chilled his skin even as he lay beneath the green and white cotton blanket, thrown over his prone form more out of habit than as a ward against the artificial elements. He stretched, and yawned, and stretched again. The fabric of the admittedly kiddish sheets bunching beneath his back, joints cracking like dead branches on a forest floor. Lazy eyes drifted again to the light; dull vision and dull visions. His toes peeped over the edge of the bed and out from under the blanket, like so many knobs, shapeless.

From outside, a claw tapped and raked and scratched and pawed at the window, a low howl accompanying the subtle greeting. But tree branches had never posed a mortal threat, and this one seemed no different. The claw persisted, and stopped, as the howling died.

The light, however, had a life unbound to the wind.

And from the light, there was darkness.

There is a certain innate ability inherent in nearly all creatures that allows them to recognise one of their own, even from a silhouette. And a certain terror that overcomes one who knows he is not alone, but not who he is not alone with.

The shadow in the light stumbled with an infant's gait, hunkering silently as the darkness it seemed to be made of.

Horrifyingly, it stopped. And turned.

Eyeless, it stared with reptilian patience, for what could have been years or heartbeats, unwavering and unflinching.

Demons and fiends and phantoms and spectres are often portrayed as large, horned, flaming behemoths, all teeth and fangs and eyes that glow red with hate and malice. But when such a child-shaped darkness simply waits, not two feet from your exposed toes, a hint of a snarl or a flash of talon would have been respite from the torment of the shadow.

A cotton blanket seemed a feeble buffer against even the most insubstantial of dangers, his pounding heart was sure to have drowned out a scream if one could be conjured from between parched lips. Quaking against a wall, he stared into the interloper as it stared back.

He was afraid.

Afraid to move, to brighten the room, to call for someone, to breathe. Afraid of what he would do if the figure moved. Abruptly, he was even more terrified of what he might be faced with if it remained.

And darkness befell him from all around.

Cursing the sleep timer on the television, he fumbled out of bed, expecting at any moment to feel small, cold, fingers wrap dreadfully around an ankle or wrist. Miraculously, the light switch materialized under his trembling fingers and he threw it.

And it was gone.

Comic Relief #72

Comic Relief #71

Comic Relief #70

Comic Relief #69

Comic Relief #68

Comic Relief #67

And that's not some funky skull-cap bandana thing on Pao's head, either.

Comic Relief #66

Comic Relief #65

Comic Relief #64

Of course, it was said in jest, but it just goes to show, anything you say can and will be used against you.

Have a good night!

Comic Relief #63

Comic Relief #62

Comic Relief #61

Comic Relief #60 - Awesome

Comic Relief #59 - Enchanted

Comic Relief #58 - Penguin

Comic Relief #57

Of course, that was followed by the classic "Just get her hammered la."

Hmm. Tempting.

Comic Relief #56

I left my laptop unattended today for a while, and came back to see someone attempting to do what I do best, provide Comic Relief. As such, I've decided that becase you all love me so much, I'll accept these amazing "guest strips" from all you wonderful people.

The above is the actual complete thing, probably some invisible family or something. Oh well, you decide.

Comic Relief #55

Comic Relief #54

You see, people putting undue pressure on my shoulders, sigh. I was wrong!

Comic Relief #53

Comic Relief #52

With Friends Like These

You can't choose your parents, they say.

But you can definitely choose your friends.

In the time I've spent breathing, I've been fortunate enough to have been surrounded by generally nice people to call my minio - I mean, people. I remember the ones I've long since lost touch with, those I went to school with before the Internet made the world such a smaller place. I'm talking even before IRC and ICQ. I'm talking Windows 3.1.

But I can say that the ones I still talk to, those from school, the army, random people, have made my world that much more interesting. Of course, we've all had our conflicts. I've yelled at friends in the past (and have been yelled at because of some friends), more than once, and other, less vocal but nonetheless more intense disagreements have occurred many a time. Still, I'm happy with what I have, I can't really complain.

I can hardly recall what my primary school friends look like. Perhaps it's got something to do with the fact that I didn't wear glasses back then, even though I needed to. I do remember silly games that boys played before they hit puberty, just when they were starting to learn the meaning of sex. No, not those kinds of games.

I remember running a friend's house, playing Doom and football in his study, breaking the lights. Engaging in the guilty pleasures of watching a particular Japanese cartoon and talking about how cool it was with a classmate. Going all the way to Toa Payoh about once a week to play single-player Counterstrike on the PC. Entertaining some who made it their goal in life to beat me at FIFA 99, not leaving my place till after dinner. Being surprised with a birthday present (and a little cake) on someone else's birthday because they missed mine. Sudden phone calls from multiple people when someone hears I might be upset over something.

Unfortunately, some try too hard to hold on to friendships. It's like pulling a cactus out of quicksand. The harder you try, the more you bleed. And eventually, you sink to the bottom as well.

OK, that wasn't very poetic, forgive me.

But friends are supposed to be the ones who make you feel better, the ones who give you something to laugh about, smile about, joke about, think about. Not the ones who annoy you to no end, who do nothing but belittle your beliefs, who put up a facade and spread insidious half-truths about their so-called "friends".

It's too bad some can't really see this.

Someone once told someone else that they were too nice "to a fault", and that "you've never really lived, until you've hated". While this might sound pessimistic, at best, it's kinda true in its own twisted way. Nice guys (and girls) finish last may not be the most accurate motto to build the foundation of your character on, but its true to a certain extent.

The term "you deserve better" rings truer than usual for two people in particular right now, and perhaps to more who are reading this.

Stop trying and hoping to salvage anything when there is nothing left to salvage.

Comic Relief #51