Lately the weather has been fluctuating from legitimately spring-like and perfect for several days and then shit-degrees the next. In an attempt to trick my body into sustaining this vitamin-d high, I've created a playlist that is the essence of orange skies, lawn chairs and ice cream. I'm probably slipping because not much good has ever come to suburban folks who idealise a bohemian lifestyle but there is something really intimate about lying on the floor and listening to music for a good few hours, oscillating between thinking deep thoughts and nothing at all y'know?  

summer breeze- seals and crofts easy- lionel richie a dream goes on forever- todd rundgren best of my love- the emotions lovefool- the cardigans ooh la la- ronnie lane baby- devendra banhart mr sandman- the chordettes there must be an angel (playing with my heart)- eurythmics who are you- set sail 

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Hey y'all, turns out Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead are 2 of the films involved in The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy series directed by Edgar Wright, written by Simon Pegg and Wright, and both starring Peg and Nick Frost. This concept references Krzysztof Kieślowski's 'Three Colours' trilogy and each movie features a corresponding cornetto flavour. The World's End completes the trilogy and comes out next year. Every time I do research for film studies frozen desserts always seem to be the answer. Well duh.

the sun is too bright/ to look at for a while/ but i do, to see you// i recognise you every life time...

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Let me start by saying that this is not a whine-y fashion blog. This is however, a whine-y post that only offers the glimpse into the mind of a simpleton in desperate pursuit for creepers. I am so fixated on getting creepers at the moment my heart palpitates irregularly when look at them. My brain also goes into aneurysm when I realise how expensive an authentic pair of T.U.K. or Underground creepers are and that I am still willing to pay full-price (FYI: I am the stingiest person in the world, after my parents).  They are BAD ASS and ~*classic*~ and  I neeeeeeed them. That's all.

  feel free to illuminate me on the source of this picture- 'we heart it' doesn't count. 

p.s. how's life?

Hello there cherubs, how are you? It's been a while since the last post and I can only say that my time is split between 'learning the hard way' and dancing really hard, normally to disco music- it's great, actually. I can't really articulate how I feel because university has siphoned all the coherent sentences from my brain. Anyway, I made you a playlist that's likely more interesting than these ~*feeelings*~ I speak of. If this blogg was one of those obnoxious radio 'hour of power' segments- like it's destined to be- my name would be Lady Backscratch and this playlist goes out to all the lovers of late-night cheese toasties and dancing in the dark...


Love Foolosophy- Jamiroquai// I Love the Nightlife- Alicia Bridges// Round and Round- Ariel Pink and the Haunted Graffiti // Common People- Pulp// Call Your Girlfriend- Robyn// Reptile- Citizens!// Ain't Nobody- Chaka Khan// Young Hearts, Run Free- Candi Staton// Play That Funky Music- Wild Cherry// Eliza- Jackson Jackson

Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.


And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?


If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?


You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.


--Unknown. Via

Hello hello hello HOW IS EVERYONE?! It's definitely been a while and whether or not you thought I died or failed to notice cyberspace has been just that little less obnoxious, I missed the blogging community. As I said it has been a while and I feel like I'm starting this completely anew SO let's just shake hands, introduce ourselves as is the social norm ("Hi, I'm Felix Curds. I'm a decent enough person, for a uni student, and probably need a haircut. I really like falafels, let's get one sometime:) and see where this takes us...

continue

Hello long-lost brethren! Since we last spoke I've become a full grown citizen with a job and enough time still to plan some arty-farty endeavours with a special few and maintain a healthy dosage of Zelda game-play. In short, life out of highschool is pre'y tight dawgs. How have you been? Whilst I catch up on your blogs and try to conjure up a post that is remotely interesting, I'd like to leave you with some shiz I really like.

gifs via square america

You have no idea how long I've been wanting to post this: I finished all my exams, returned all my books to the library, picked up my major art practicals and am now in the process of organizing my course materials into a huge heap so it can be set on fire in blaze of GLORY!!! Thorugh the emotional txt tennis I've been having with my friends, I have finally come to realize that in leaving school I have nothing and everything. And these two things, lovers, are the constituents of freedom. Boii, it's a bittersweet symphony this life...

Dancer Adjusting Her Tights (1890)- Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

Molteni & C (2010)- Emily Robertson

Seated Woman with Bent Knee (1917)- Egon Schiele

Tim Walker for Italian Vogue (2010)

All Ways (2010)- Dell Kathryn Barton

Death and Life (1911)- Gustav Klimt



The Followers (2010)- Ximena Garrido-Lecca

L.H.O.O.Q. (1919)- Marcel Duchamp

Ancient Days (1794)- William Blake

One more exam to go you guys, just one, and it's so exciting that I could just vomit and cry and laugh all at the same time! In more recent news, on Friday I am forever done with Yr.12 art. It was a really trying subject, despite my love for it. For art we had to create thirty A3 pieces of back-up folio work for each of our two major practicals and it was a horrible, mad dash to complete it. Since finishing I'm all nostalgic and giddy. The above artworks are ones I have fallen in love with throughout the year, for different reasons; some were chosen for their use of pink, others for their youthful females forms created through sinuous lines, subversion of iconography, and the SUN! Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying sunsets and lollies cos both are awesome- like your faces. Okay, bye.

I understand that my blogging has been nothing more than lackluster lately and for anyone that actually likes this wee little blog, I'm really sorry. My life has been really good, to say the least: I went to see Gotye live and meet him...alive; had my 18th birthday which inexplicably saw my breasts grow more womanly and myself adopt a skins lifestyle (no, not really); finished every mother-licking assignment and survived the final day of schooling EVER! As we all know, however, what goes up must come tumbling down- like evicted big brother contenders fame. I have da big year 12 exams (english studies and psychology) coming up in a weeks time so Happy Un-Birthdays will be in a coma like state for about two weeks whilst its owner excretes tears and bloods from her hands for all the goddamn revision she'll be doing YEAH! I hope you guys have an amazing life- reading good books and seeing beautiful people- which I can live vicariously through once I permit myself to checking ma dash. Till then, stay classy!

In exactly 4 days this song can't legitimately be my anthem and that saddens me a bit. Perhaps it's that fact that I'm turning eighteen and can be held accountable for whatever future crimes I decide to commit or maybe it's because high school is coming to an end, but lately I can't stop thinking about my existence as a teenager.  My ~*teenage experience*~ is nothing close to resembling a John Hughes movie or Gossip Girl episode, but it's not to say that there hasn't been moments laden with melodrama and beauty. I look at all the ridiculous phases (amish, rapper, emo) I ever went through; the parties and concerts; the sleepless nights cramming; driving around aimlessly with my friends whilst blasting nicki minaj and the four hour long conversations I've had over complete bullshit e.g. boiz, with a fondness and sense of entitlement. I also look at them with a romantic disillusionment: I was never as entrapped as I moped about in my angst ridden journals and life isn't even all that hard, in fact it was dead easy. If ever there was a period in a person's life where magic can happen it's when your a teen but it's not the big budget type things that make you feel it. I want to say that I've done a lot of growing up but I don't want to say that it's so much that people will expect start paying taxes, pump a baby from my vagina or, I don't know, cease cyberstalking Ryan Gosling. I understand that I can't always be one of the rotten ones and, you know, I'm probably just having a teenage equivalent of a mid-life crisis but I can't help feeling conflicted about this 'growing up' nonsense. What does that even mean? Is it facing the horrible aforementioned scenarios or is it more to do with finding yourself and being less of a loser? Either way, it's a lot to work on, is it not?

little tip, turn down the volume on the LSD trip video and play some beach boys instead because you then feel unstoppable and capable of bringing all the boys to the yard. i need a life.

this is the best thing i have seen. ever.

I haven't bothered to go on lookbook for a year now after finding that there isn't anything to exciting going on. Like, don't get me wrong, the majority of people on there look stunning and there are some items of clothing that I would kill an earthworm for but once you've seen a couple, you've seen them all. Andre Judd is the only exception. His style is incredibly hard to pin down for all the outrageous combinations he puts together but I want to say that it's part blissed out gaga, part Martian pimp and, overall, high-art with platinum blonde hair. Yes, it's impractical. And yes, it might injure a 'minimalist's' cornea but it's ballsy and original, which is more than can be said for the skinny girl in the skinny jeans and wayfarers. Maaad respect.

You know I actually thought of uploading a video of myself rapping to this to impress you foxy internet folk but I thought better.