You Call Yourself A Movie Buff?

If you want to call yourself a movie buff there are certain films that you must have seen. The French Connection (imdb | buy at amazon) is one of these and, thanks to a spare $24 and an indulgent girlfriend, I picked up a copy on DVD yesterday and we watched it last night.

A stunning piece of film that shows just how overly long most of today’s action pieces are – it’s one hour and forty minutes of near perfect film making. I’ve just discovered that John Frankenheimer directed the sequel so now I have to track that down and Marathon Man (imdb | buy at amazon), another ’70’s classic, has just been released too. Ah, the life of a movie buff with a new widescreen TV – it’s tough and poverty inducing.

Tony & Sister Inc

When I was a young lad I would mow two sets of lawns, ours and my Nana’s, under great sufferance. I loathed mowing and apparently my dark mutterings could be heard above the roar of dad’s old mower. I wouldn’t mutter at Nana’s ’cause her lawn was more interesting – you could mow much better shapes as you went around.

Now, as every one knows, when you mow a lawn the catcher gets full of clippings and needs to be emptied – all part of ‘mowing the lawn’. Well, not in our household. Somehow or another I wangled it so my little sister had to come out and empty the catcher whenever it was full. How I got away with this little piece of murder I will never know but I’d march up to the door, still muttering darkly, ring the door bell and then rev the guts out of Mr Victa until Helen appeared and took the clippings away.

This morning Rae pointed out that a mowing business was for sale.

I wonder if Helly would be interested in forming a partnership?

I Need A New Word

Is there a word for ‘man who loves television’.

Man, it’s awesome. I will never leave the couch. Please send food.

Congratulations

Congratulations to Mr Audiville, Nigel, on being the featured blog in this weeks Web User magazine in the UK. Well deserved recognition of bloody funny stuff, published fresh every day. Thanks for reading all this time Nigel, hope the Audi keeps on going a while yet.

Beware Of Falling Pianos

I’m walking around looking up a lot today ’cause I’m sure that a big fat baby grand is going to come screeching down on top of me any second.

Firstly – we’ve got the TV. It’s waiting in the back of Rae’s station waggon for me to get home and help lug it in. (One hour 55 minutes plus travelling time to go).

Secondly – the world’s most inefficient real estate agents, take a bow Barlow McEwan & Tribe – Newport, have just called to let us know that our lease has been extended for another 12 months – great news ’cause now I can finally get broadband connected at home.

Life has taught me that when things are humming along this nicely you should always keep an eye out for falling pianos. So, I’m happy but dare not look down.

No Work For Me

Can’t concentrate.

Doing chair dances.

Trying to decide which of 130+ DVDs to watch first.

Rae’s going to pick up the new telly.

Want to go home.

W Day

I couldn’t sleep list night through anticipation. Today may be W-Day – Widescreen Day!

After out savings/ebaying frenzy we’ve got the money and now there’s been a price drop on the widescreen television we want so it’s action stations. Rae is doing the rounds of the Coles Myer stores today (we’ve got a heap of vouchers for them from our Visa card program and Fly Buy points) to track one down.

My only agony is that I suggested to Rae (who has the day off) that she and Phee meet me at Punt Road for the Tiger’s training session this afternoon and she’s holding me to it. Oh the pain. Sure, I want to see the boys run around and have a snag off the barbie later but knowing there is a shiny new Sony television sitting on the floor just waiting to come out of its box will be killing me.

And for those who are saying “Why do you want to waste money on a widescreen TV when the one you’ve got is great?” (Hi Mum) check out widescreen-o-rama. The second page has some great pictures that really show you what you’re missing on a standard telly.