AAYL That's entertainment.

2003. It's always from 2003. I could look at the two-hundred entries from 2003 and post only that year for the rest of my life. Like the Internet will exist for another two posts of grasshoppers, watermelons, green backs, centuries and so on and so forth, infinitum. 

Regardless, there's nothing new I have ready to post - except for maybe reviews of films I've seen lately from 2009, what's the point? They're all 'popular', 'tent pole', flicks, so again, what's the point? - so I'm going to stay in the past. The following piece is a metaphor, but the very smart among you already knew that. I also broke from protocol and attempted line breaks. Only in the future will I know what is a success. 

Please note: I mean, really, who cares if MI:4, Sherlock Holmes, Thor, Captain America, Tin Tin, Iron Man 2, The Hunger Games, and whatever, wherever, are any good? Tell me in 5 years time if you can remember the plots to any of these films...

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Saturday 31st of May

What to do? Insult the audience, that act never gets old. That's what they're here for anyway. Kid, Philosophy and revisionism of history just don’t pull the crowds anymore. This scene has changed for the worst. These days you need a big bang and a big blow-off, otherwise you can't sell the product. "The product of information?" Don't be so fucking stupid, no-one cares about that old-world notion. We're in the new, new millennium. Get with it, or else risk going out with it. Do you want to be a drone, or do you want to drone with the biggest, brightest stars we've got? So there you go.

The key, most important words in the lexicon of human language begin with a 'g'. They begin but don't contain the letter. That fact is pertinent; do not forget it. And seeing we're onto the subject of facts, here's another one coming your way: don't believe any word that does contain the letter 'g'. Those are markers for your journey in life; they are a signifier for you to forget whatever the signifier is trying to transmit. Notice how none of the days of the week have that letter? Think about it.

Preach and desist! You don't educate the audience. You just need to fool them into thinking that they're thinking. Let me tell you a story. Whenever I shut my eyes images come to me. I see one hundred million dead children, all lined up in a row. I see great civilizations in ruins. I see planets and suns in the twilight of their existence. I see liars, murderers and whores propping up the history of man. I see hacked up bloody corpses of indistinguishable sex. I see dirty red smudges on the night sky. I see the moon and stars falling, burning everything in an ungodly fire. And then I open my eyes and I know that everything and everybody will be ok, if just for a little while. Now get out there and talk to the fucking audience.  

AAYL Going drivin'

Another Angry Angry Young Lady circa 2003. That seems to be the year for all the good work. The car mentioned was a Toyota Corolla. Not sure the year model; I don't pay attention to those details. I recall the vehicle was sky-blue in colour. Or was it navy? It also wasn't a bad car. That didn't stop me from driving it into the ground. I really didn't give a shit. Finally the car started to overheat. We (royal?) drove the bashed-up Corolla down to a Wreckers in South Fremantle. Parked it in the street for a while, so as to allow the engine's overheated particulars to cool down. Then, the Wrecker Man drove the car around the block to see that it wasn't completely fucked. The temperature gauge didn't budge and the Wrecker Man handed over 500 bucks for the car. What a hustle.

Anyway, point to the pick. I was a trawling in my spare time and saw this. Found it hilarious I drove such a shit box in the emerald days of my youth; especially considering the new, newish, car I recently bought. So, in aid of blowing-up my own ego, here is the following AAYL read. 

And, these days, when it comes to cars: I still don't really give a shit. 

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Sunday 3rd of August

At three am this morning when I was zipping along Thomas Street at a great zip, desperately trying to find a toilet, a bird broke cover from the trees of King's Park and flew straight at my car. Suffice to say when given the option of a windshield hurtling at a ton versus a flimsy feathery body, the only choice is to watch the bird explode. That and catch a glimpse of the windshield wipers being bent up and over the car. So let's recap the damage that has occurred to the car over recent months past. One of the windshield wipers is bent out of place, causing the wipers, when deployed, to scratch the windshield and make a great shreieieieik! I found my driver's mirror smashed and left by the side of the road one morning. The glass was awfully cracked but only a few pieces had fallen out, so I stuck the mirror back into the encasing. Now, whenever I have to change into the right lane, it's like driving in hall of mirrors. Oh - and to readjust that mirror I have to wind down the window and do it manually, as the handle on the inside broke. Now don't forget the white scratch, and a big dent to go with it, on the panel of the driver's door. I think a car pulling out of a parking spot did that boo-hickey. But I'm not innocent of bad driving myself, as I accidently bumped into the back of a parked car last week. My car's front bumper seemed fine. And finally the engine has taken to whining whenever I accelerate. Fortunately, the car doesn't overheat so I haven't really bothered to find out what that sound is. Welcome to my world of bad car maintenance, zero insurance and general apathy in extracurricular motor activities.