First of all, just a quick sentence to say; "whoops, looks like I kind of forgot about this blog... again." I set it up in September... wrote in it the first time in March... then left it for three more months. Fairly useless of me! But I'm going to endeavor to post more often now, as life tends to get more fast paced and interesting during the Summer months - everyone's perkier, a lot of my friends will be having their Summer off uni and generally I think it will make me happier and create a cooler vibe to write in.
You may also notice that I never followed up my Watchmen post with an actual review of the film - silly me! I've got all my opinions written down as notes, I just never wrote it up on here. I'm thinking I'll do it in July, before the DVD comes out, and then write a "second opinion" review after I watch that (because even if the film wasn't great, the promise of extra material means I'm bound to buy it, since I'm a sucker, especially when Watchmen related things are concerned).
Now, to the meat of this post - it's going to be more of a diary entry/collection of thoughts than anything else. Just a few bullet-pointed observations of what went through my head on my last afternoon trip into Croydon:
- First off, I just have to say thank God they closed one of the pre-existing H&M's before they opened that new massive one! It may seem strange to celebrate the closure of a shop, especially since I occasionally shop in H&M, so the more the better right? However, the problem is, Croydon is just getting saturated with the same shops/restaurants (with the same stock/food) over and over and over. There was a time a month back where it looked like we were going to be treated to the new found presence of three H&M's within 3 minutes walk of each other. Fantastic - what a marvellous addition to the two HMVs, four McDonalds, four Starbucks (at least!) and five (yes, five!) Subways that also lie within the same square mile. Not that I don't occasionally buy stuff from all these fine examples of capitalism in action, but can I be blamed for craving just a little something different? Are we all so brand driven, lazy and easily swayed in Croydon that they know opening yet another branch of the same will still do great business, even if it's 30 seconds from one that already exists? Let's change it up. After all, they do say variety is the spice of... ooo, a Subway, don't mind if I do.
- Having been a regular user of a Diesel's Fuel For Life perfume pour homme for about the past year, I was intrigued to see that they have recently released a new fragrance. And I must say that, on the basis of the tester I used, I quite like Only The Brave. However, I feel must also say that would have been more inclined to buy a bottle had said tester not been shaped like a miniature clenched fist (with a large "Diesel" knuckleduster), grasped firmly around a little aftershave spirting cock. I think I stick to my cool, khaki clad, mini-cantine for now, thanks all the same!
- Even though I in no way disliked Slumdog Millionaire (though I probably enjoyed The Wrestler more at the cinema the very next day), I for the time being refuse to buy it on DVD until they bring out a version without that shite schmaltzy cover with Dev Patel and Freda Pinto smiling in the burst of confetti. Why, you ask? Am I just a massive kill joy who doesn't want evidence of the "feel good hit of the decade" in my DVD collection? No - it's just that cover does pretty near sweet FA to summarise the actual vast majority of the film. In fact, all it serves to do is undermine any sense of tension or drama created during the course of the narrative's first two acts by showing people immediately that "everything's lovely" come the end. What the hell kind of marketing is that?! That is what I don't want in my DVD collection. I bought three DVDs from the main chart display in HMV (branch A, not branch B) that day - I did not buy Slumdog Millionaire.
- Upon this day in Croydon, I commited what could surely be classed as the number one book reader's faux pas; I judged a book by its cover. However, whilst this is normally a sentence used to cast derision on the silly and easily lead, that day I felt I could say it with pride. I defy any man to not want to buy a book entitled "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies". The title (and cover image what one can only presume to be a zombified Elizabeth Bennett) caught my eye on one of those displays they put in HMV, right by the tills, in an attempt to persuade you into making one more last minute purchase you don't need - and it worked! And if that wasn't enough to sell me, the opening description of the blurb certainly was - "an expanded edition of the beloved Jane Austen novel, featuring all new scenes of bone-crunching zombie mayhem". You, my good sir, have sold yourself a book! See, not all my thoughts are cynical and negative. Zombies frickin' rule! I think it may have ninjas in it too, but only time will tell.
- Unfortunately, my last point is another downer... for you see, on this particular day, it wasn't raining. Why is that a downer? Well, you see, the sun was partially visible. Again, why is that a downer? Because when the sun is out, even just slightly, that means it's that time of year again - the time of the Croydon summer twat. You know the sort - tracksuit bottoms, or (if you're especially lucky) tiny umbro shorts, reebok classics, thick silver chain and... nothing. Wait. That's just a chav isn't it? What's missing here? Oh yeah, that's right - a shirt! It's not just not wearing a shirt that gets me though. It's the fact that there's no sign of a shirt tied round the waist, no bag that could contain a shirt, in fact no evidence of a shirt at all! Just a bare chest, and an attitude problem. If you're lucky, maybe a few shit tattoos. Joy of joys. First, it's not even that hot out. Second, just put it away, man! We're going round the shops, not to the beach! Heck, it's not even the park! One of the examples I saw was extra special: not only was he shirtless, but he didn't even have the toned (read; uber skinny) body that they usually have; he had rather noticeable pot gut and (the coupe de grace) one his arms was in a sling, presumably from a recent act of pointless stupidity. Ok, I'm being slightly harsh there, it might have been an honest accident (maybe he hurt it at work and put in a ridiculous claim. Oh, I jest), but do you know why I don't feel as bad as I could for judging him? Because he wasn't carrying a fucking shirt!
And that concludes my random thoughts on an afternoon in Croydon. I'm not sure when I'll write again, but hopefully in less than three months! I'm off up to my old Uni (Warwick) this weekend to take part in the short film competition that my friends enter and I help with each year, so my next post could well be about that, but, you know me, things could change!
Catch ya later.
