Wednesday, August 21st, 2013
Back in May, I got a puppy. I just realised, I haven’t updated you guys on his awesomeness since then, which is mighty rude of me. Apologies. Anyhoo, this is our Boston Terrier, Stringer Bell (yes, because I am a huge fan of The Wire and he is the most badass pup on the block). He’s coming up on six months old and he’s kinda just blowing my mind. I can’t believe I live in a house with this little dude and don’t just die of ze cute every day. More pics below, brace yourself.
Monday, June 3rd, 2013
People, this bundle of cutieadorableness (warning: the above ball of fur causes you to make up nonsensical words), is coming to live with me next week. Oh yes! I’m a-gettin’ a Boston Terrier puppy. We have called him Stringer Bell (due to my long standing obsession with The Wire and Idris Elba). He’s just turned seven weeks old and we kinda can’t wait to make him a part of the family.
Tuesday, December 14th, 2010
I was a typical little girl. I liked rainbows and unicorns. I took horse riding lessons for a bit, then got into dance. I did ballet recitals in dodgy tutus, took jazz, tap, contemporary, had more leotards than I knew what to do with, performed in many-a-show. I went through my grunge phase and my rude girl phase, but for the most part, I was a good kid (admittedly, with a smart mouth, but a good kid nonetheless). I look back and wonder how my taste went from New Kids on the Block to the kinds of films, TV shows and books I’m into now. By all rights, I should be a drug dealing axe murderer at this point.
I think I was 16 the first time I saw The Godfather. Then I got introduced to Goodfellas, learned every line, got my Karen impression down pat and immersed myself in the rest of Scorsese’s work. Throw in a little Tarantino and by 18 I should’ve been an expert in violence. Be it shoving someone’s head in an oven Goodfellas style, or wielding firearms bigger than my entire body and calling them ‘my liddle frens’ a la Scarface, should I have wanted to take someone out, I’d have had all the ammunition I needed (not literally though of course – I didn’t know of any arms dealers in my area).
I read American Psycho at 17. It’s my favourite book but you can’t admit that in public because people back away from you slowly while dialling the police from their pocket and not making any sudden movements. As well they should – it’s a literary masterpiece but also a gruesomely violent step-by-step guide on how to become a full on psycho.
My taste in TV isn’t much better. I got hooked on The Sopranos from episode one. Anything you want to know about getting an organised crime family together, just ask me. Alternatively, if you want to know how to dress like a gangster’s moll, I told you that already. Then The Wire came along and taught me all I need to know to set up a lucrative drug dealing business. I took very details notes throughout the five seasons and did briefly consider a move to Baltimore, primarily to molest Stringer Bell, of course, but I felt I could’ve been an integral part of that drug network (and Stringer Bell’s bedroom).
As if all of that wasn’t enough, I recently got into Dexter, a series about a serial killer who only kills other serial killers (yes, it is as ridiculous as it sounds). And I find myself eyeing up kitchen knives and duct tape. In all other areas of my life I’m a heels-rocking, dress-wearing prim and proper stuck up cow and yet look at my taste in film and literature? Surely I should be watching period costume dramas or something? It doesn’t make any sense but at least I know if I ever find myself in the Baltimore streets, or a New Jersey suburb, or in conversation with a Cuban drug Lord in Miami, I’ll know how to handle myself.
Wednesday, January 20th, 2010
I believe my love of Idris Elba is well documented on this site, is it not? You will not find a more dedicated fan of The Wire than me. You know how much I love him? I actually paid, cash money, to see Obsessed at the cinema. Yeah, that crappy movie he did with Beyonce? Yeah, I saw that. Paid money to see it. And it clearly wasn’t for any deep-rooted love of Beyonce, lemme tell ya. So, given how much I heart Idris, why are you all standing in the way of our love?
Yeah, that’s right, I said it! You just don’t want to see us happy! When I was down in London over the weekend, I spent my friday night doing a whole bunch of nothing. I wandered around Notting Hill, stuffed my face at my favourite restaurant, caught up with a friend. All of which, I could have done without (no offense to my friend). Cut to Saturday and randomly, some of my Twitter peeps tell me that Idris was DJing/hanging out/generally looking like a fine specimen of a man at one of my favourite bars, Marketplace, the night before.
You don’t understand. I used to hang out at Marketplace so much, it may as well be called MYplace. When I left for New York, I had my leaving party there. I’ve sat at and/or danced on every table. I’ve squeezed in the booths with way too many friends. I’ve backed it up on every inch of the dance floor. So how, HOW I ask you, was I not aware that Idris Elba, my love, was gonna be there on Friday night?! This is a travesty!
Had I been informed ahead of time, I would have dug out my favourite heels and my best dress (the perfect mix of ‘class’ and ‘skank’) and strutted my way down there. I would have swayed my hips hypnotically to the beat of whatever the hell he was playing; jazz, soul, hip hop, afro-latino jazz fusion, grime, alt-rock – whatever, bring it – my booty will shake to it. I would have laughed at his jokes, leaned into him slowly, brushed up against him – hell, I would have run my full gamut of flirting tricks. And maybe, just maybe, he would have fallen for them. If not, I’m pretty sure I could have at least gotten a hug, or a picture, or escorted away by security.
So next time people, don’t try to stand in the way of the non-existent, psychotic, blossoming love between Idris and I. A phone call, a ten-minute warning, something, anything, would be appreciated. Thanks!
Monday, December 21st, 2009
Well, things got really crazy for me in the last quarter of 2009. Overwhelmed with the direction the world was going in (you know, global warming, financial crisis, the over-popularity of Uggs), I decided I needed to change things. So, I whipped the world into shape and I’m proud to say, as we’re about to go into 2011, everything’s looking rosy.
Me and Idris Elba are married and he’s totally cool with me seeing Elliot Stabler from Law & Order SVU, Robert Downey Jr and any man who can speak French on the side. I had it written into our wedding vows that he’d find a way to resurrect The Wire for a few more seasons, so, there’s that.
I met with world leaders to discuss energy efficiency and it was decided that rather than using central heating and such like, people should burn their Uggs to create a natural source of heat. President Obama personally gave me a terrorist fist bump of congratulations for that one.
I had a sit down with Madonna. She managed to detach her crazed fans from her balls for a sec. We have negotiated a deal whereby she will retire within the next five years. She has also agreed to wear a knee length skirt every second wednesday. This will be increased each time she adopts another African baby.
I started running masterclasses on ‘How to Dress Like a Lady.’ This was a major step forward in my ‘No Pants’ campaign (the co-founder of which is Casie Stewart). We have seen a significant drop in the number of women wearing running shoes as regular footwear, leggings, sweats, pajama pants, babydoll dresses and maternity wear on un-pregnant people.
I banned use of the word ‘comfortable’ in regards to fashion for anyone under the age of 60. It’s taking people a while to come round to this, but we have seen more women enroll in my ‘How to Walk in Heels’ classes, which is encouraging.
As part of his therapy, I slept with Tiger Woods to see what all the fuss was about. Results are still inconclusive.
I think my major achievement of 2010 was having ‘bitch slap’ and ‘motherbitch’ added to the Oxford English dictionary. Additionally, now that bitch slapping is no longer a crime (except for the 6 US States in which it is still outlawed), society has become much more tolerable. Pent up frustration is virtually a thing of the past now that you can just give anyone a swift back hand when they’re acting up.
So as you can see, my 2010 was pretty packed, trying to make the world a better place for you people.
Well, must dash. Idris is in the kitchen, naked, cooking for me and I still have to treat the third degree burns he sustained doing that last week. He’ll never learn.
Until next time, ask yourself, what did you do to change the world in 2010?
Friday, November 20th, 2009
After an intense Nando’s roundtable discussion recently (that Peri Peri sauce inspires some deep soul searching), in which a few of my fabulous, talented and gorgeous friends (I don’t hang with ugly people) recounted their relationship woes, I got to thinking about how to ease the troubles we all seem to have finding someone we can tolerate being around long enough to sustain something decent with. And I found the answer…..
That’s right amigos! I think it’s safe to say that since my last few relationships have registered pretty high on the worldwide richter scale of disaster, I don’t trust my own taste anymore. Seriously, since my past boos have included a crack head, a Napoleon complex-haver and a serial adulterer from The Village People, I have decided that I simply cannot be left to my own devices to meet men.
I still can’t bring myself to do internet dating, mainly because it seems to take just as much time as real dating. My friend told me it took her two hours to wade through the questions required to register on one site. Screw that noise. Who has that kinda time on their hands? So, to cut out all that BS, I say, I would prefer to have an army of people just looking on my behalf. Go out into the wilderness (whoa, I take that back. Go out into the city – you know it wouldn’t work out with me and a country dude) and bring me back a husband.
Here are a few guidelines to help you get an idea of the kind of guy I like. Preferably, the ideal candidate will be a mish-mash of all these things:
This fella brings the ‘hubba hubba’ and regardless of what people say, I think ‘hubba hubba’ is important in a life partner. Sure, his character on Mad Men is a complete asshole, relationship wise, but he’s creative, great at his job and he’s a presence. I could do without all his excessive drinking and smoking though.
Again, his character on The Wire is kind of an asshole, but as with Don Draper, he’s in a powerful position (given, it’s within a criminal organisation, but we’ll overlook that for now). I’m more attracted to his height and the way he carries himself.
Do I really need to explain this one? He’s a sweet slice of salt n’ pepper lovliness. To me, Clooney is the epitome of a gentleman. He’s charming, he has style, class and from what I’ve seen, a pretty wicked sense of humour.
My readers across the pond may not know who Stephen Fry is, but he’s an amazing actor and presenter. Sure, he’s gay, but whatever. This is probably the most intelligent man you’re ever gonna come across in life. He’d be hours, nay, a whole lifetime of entertainment. If I brought him home to my parents, they’d be very impressed, though they would, admittedly, have questions about why I’m dating a gay man.
Anyone who rolls with me has got to be funny and if anyone can bring the funny, it’s my man Jon Stewart. If I’ve got to spend a lifetime with someone, I need to be able to laugh my way through it.
Alright, so if you all could just get to work on that for me and report back with your findings, that’d be great. Mmkay. Thanks!
Monday, October 26th, 2009
If you’re not watching Mad Men, I suggest you hop to it. It has nicely filled the void left by my previous obsession, The Wire.
With the styling on this show, it’s hard not to fall in love with it. The lead female character, Betty Draper has a wardrobe to die for. Sure, she’s vapid, neurotic, self-centred and immature, but let’s look past all that for a second and focus on her banging garmentage (yes, I did just invent that word).
The roller set hair, the matching lips and nail colour, the petticoats, the cinched in waist, gosh darnit, this woman even manages to make smoking look attractive! Oh how I wish I was a child again and could go play dress up in her closet.
Not only is she the most stylin’ woman on the block, but she gets to be married to this dreamboat:
*cue Barry White music*
SweetLordInHeavenFatherOfAllThingsMercifulJesusOfNazarethJohnTheBaptist, how I want to do unspeakable things to him.
Work it out Betty Draper *two finger snaps in a Z formation* I ain’t mad atcha.
Tuesday, January 6th, 2009
Well, it’s come to an end. My vacation, that is, not my life (though you may be forgiven for thinking so, due to my lack of posts the past few weeks). As you read this, I am on a plane headed back to Toronto (probably desperately trying to resist the urge to put some screaming infant in a choke hold).
- For those that are wondering, no, I did not go see this guy.
- Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year, ain’t it?
- Packing is a mother bitch. Seriously, I hate it. I’m having to leave two of my coats in England because I just can’t fit them in. No doubt my mother will adopt them and make sure they are cared for by wearing them at every available opportunity – I see you Mama!
- My British boys know how to dress. It’s so refreshing to see guys who give a crap about their appearance. Turn it out fellas. I ain’t mad at ya!
- To all my friends and of course, my fabulous family, thank you for showing me such a wonderful time. I miss you all desperately and I won’t leave it three years the next time, I promise. Love you long time.
Monday, October 20th, 2008
I’m happy with my core group of friends. They’re a pretty cool crowd. Between friends here and in London, New York and Tokyo, I’m rolling pretty deep, but that doesn’t mean I can’t expand my amigo group.
I got to thinking about who in the public eye I’d want to be friends with. If I track down these people, I will try to recruit them into the world of Bangs and a Bun, because my world is crazy fun y’all! You know you wanna be a part of it. So here goes:
Why? Because she’s awesome. If anyone ever needs to be put in their place, I’ll just roll out JJ and let her go to town. And really, is your life really complete without an older Jewish New York woman in it? No, I didn’t think so.
She dresses well enough to hang out with me. Plus, she’ll give me the ‘terrorist fist bump’ when she agrees with me. And her husband seems pretty cool too.
Every girl needs her token gay. I’m sure he’ll happily criticise everyone’s dress sense and help me give make overs to those who may not be making the grade.
The Entire Rock Steady Crew
Because I need people to back me up whenever I feel like busting out the electric boogaloo.
It’s always good to have one friend who is way dumber than you. If they’re a completely ignorant, immature, offensive asshole, it just serves to make you look better. Plus, Judge Judy can constantly cuss her out, which would make my day.
Any of the Cosby Show kids
Except for maybe Sondra, because she always seemed a bit lame. But Theo, Vanessa and Denise? Now, they knew how to have a good time.
Snoop from The Wire
I would never have to fear for my safety. Snoop will just nail gun your dead body up in a building if you mess with me. Who doesn’t want a friend like that?
Maxine Gray from Judging Amy
She has a quick wit, a great laugh and she looks like she gives good hugs and can cook up a good meal. Plus, she played Detective Cagney in Cagney & Lacey, which basically makes her the coolest person ever.
It’s always good to have a rapper in your clique. Especially one who can give you a good insight into every conspiracy theory known to mankind. And if you ever come across an impromptu rap battle in the streets, throw this guy in there and you’ll get an insane amount of street cred.
Tuesday, March 11th, 2008
The Wire has now officially ended. First Sex and the City, then The Sopranos, now this? Damn it HBO, stop crushing my dreams! I don’t know how I will get over the loss of The Wire. I will actually have to think of other things to talk about with my friends and that’s just a frikkin’ hassle.
So much has been written about how it was the best show on TV, so I won’t harp on that point, other than to say, it really was the best show on TV. So, to mark the end of an era, I have compiled all my favorite moments from each season; the good, the bad and the ugly. (If you’ve never seen the show, go buy all five seasons on DVD and watch them, then read this post – I don’t want to ruin it for you.)
The infamous Bunk and McNulty ‘Fuck’ scene
This scene was probably the first to show the true genius of the writers. As Bunk and McNulty work their way through a crime scene, they use only the word ‘fuck’ (and variations thereof). They manage to tell the whole story of how this girl was killed without needing to use another word. (Put that in your pipe and smoke it South Pasadena!)
D’Angelo’s near miss
When D’Angelo’s told he had to drive Wee-Bey to Philly, he thinks he’s gonna get clipped. They go into Bey’s house and D, nearing tears, braces himself for the hit. When Bey turned the lights on, it turned out he just wanted to show D how to feed his fish while he was away.
Wallace being killed by his friends Bodie and Poot is, to this day, probably one of the most difficult things I ever watched on television. The dynamic between these three characters had been such a driving force of the show and it is just heartbreaking to think that somewhere in America, there are young boys who actually have to make those decisions for real.
Ziggy loses his shit
After watching Ziggy try to carve a path for himself as a crook for most of the season, I found his turn of events quite shocking. He was a funny character, a harmless guy. When Ziggy was screwed over on a business deal he thought was a sure fire winner, he went back to the guy who screwed him, guns blazing. Watching him sitting in his car afterwards trying to light his cigarette, crying and hearing the sound of police sirens, you just knew that in that instant, his whole life had changed.
Throughout the show Rawls has undoubtedly had some of the best lines, but for me, this was one of the greatest. When Bunk and Freamon return from questioning the crew of a boat and getting nowhere due to the number of languages on board, Rawls says ‘I don’t care if they’re speaking Mandarin Chinese with a cock sucker’s lisp.’ Classic.
One word: Hamsterdam
Interesting social experiment or the apocalypse? You decide.
Stringer fesses up
After managing to cover his tracks pretty well, Stringer, in a moment of anger, finally confesses to Avon that he was responsible for having D’Angelo killed. Needless to say, the news was not received well.
Bernard’s comic relief
After months of driving here, there and everywhere to buy phones for Marlo, Bernard and his annoying girlfriend are finally arrested. Sitting in the police station, cuffed, his girlfriend launches an endless tirade about how dumb he is. Bernard turns to the guy next to him and says ‘I can’t wait to go to jail.’ It’s so easy to get bogged down with all the serious situations in The Wire, that these little gems are priceless.
Avon and Stringer’s goodbye
Their friendship could be seen unraveling throughout the season, as they looked to take their operation in different directions. As they stand on Avon’s balcony reminiscing, knowing they are both trying to kill each other, makes for an incredibly icy, yet sad, scene.
Snoop buys a nail gun
I’m not ashamed to admit, Snoop scares the living crap out of me. Probably one of the most complex female characters ever on television, this scene, where she discussed the pros and cons of a nail gun with such ease, knowing that she was using it to board up the houses where she was dumping dead bodies, gave me shivers.
Michael refuses Marlo’s money
It was a small moment, but a big one. Showing that this boy, despite all the pressures around him, has a code of honor, was laying the ground work in the first of many parallels drawn between him and Omar. The way he shut Marlo up with just a stare showed that he was in for bigger things, however reluctant he may have been.
Randy doesn’t just tug on the heart strings, he yanks those bitches right off
He was branded a snitch, had his house fire bombed and his foster mother was killed in the blast. As Carver, who came to visit him in the hospital, walked away, Randy, his face scratched and bloody from the blast, just kept saying ‘you gonna look out for me Detective Carver?’ over and over. This scene ripped my heart out, stomped on it, chewed it up and spat it out.
McNulty loses his damn mind
After being so angelic in season four, McNulty gets back to his crazy ways in full force. The start of his downward spiral would be when he decides to tamper with a dead body to make it look like a murder. Let the insanity commence!
Avon gets in bed with Marlo
Not literally, obviously, but when Marlo goes to the jail to visit the Russian (a meet that Avon facilitated), and Avon throws up the west-side gang sign to Marlo at the end, you sense that shit is just about to get crazy.
Gus fights the power
When slimy reporter, Scott submits yet another made up story with conveniently invented quotes, Gus decides to drop it as the lead story. When confronted by the managing editor, he says casually ‘we have a sourcing policy here and I know it and I do not feel comfortable bending the rules in this instance,’ as he saunters out of the office. Watching Scott squirm was priceless.
Snoop bites the dust
When Mike pulls his gun on her, she doesn’t even flinch. She turns away from him, strokes the back of her head so he can get a clear shot and says ‘how my hair look Mike?’ Damn – she is the hardest of hardcore!
Marlo’s cool exterior heats up
When some loose lipped fool lets it slip to Marlo, while they’re in a jail cell, that Omar had been calling him out for weeks, Marlo completely loses his shit. ‘My name is my name!’ he shouts. It’s the first time you ever see Marlo lose his cool. And you just know that if they ever get out of that jail cell, that idiot who told him is the first to get capped.
Dukie’s entire character arc
From the time he was introduced in season four, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Dukie. Watching him make such an effort to get on the right path, and how Mike was so protective over him, was just endearing. But as season five progressed, he became the very definition of being a victim of your circumstances. In the montage at the end of the final, episode when they showed him shooting up, well, it’s clear that Dukie took some lessons from Randy on how to rip my heart out, stomp on it, chew it up and spit it out.
There are probably another fifty great moments I can think of, but those are the ones that stood out the most to me. What I enjoyed most about the show is that you really had to actively engage in watching it. The story lines could get so complex and intermingled, you couldn’t not pay attention. Each season they shone a light on a different aspect of society and showed that they all connect. Discussing this with a friend the other day, we came away concluding that the main message we got at the end of the show was ‘the more things change, the more they stay the same’, which can be both positive and negative.
Here’s to you Wire. You will be missed.