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Showing posts from April, 2009

Scales of Indifference

There is a wide and varied range of things that piss me off. I hate it when people walk slowly in front of me or blow smoke in my face or when friends are late more than five minutes or when they steal chips off my plate. I hate it when the heel of a shoe wears out while the rest is still brand new. I hate it when publications pay me late and expect me to accept it as par for the course. I hate it when I hear stories about 53-year-old film stars in steamy clinches with women who are not their wife of 28 years (*cough* Mel Gibson *cough*). But more than all of that, I hate it when skinny girls moan about being fat.

The Small Things

I watched ‘Crash’ (Matt Dillon, not James Spader) for the first time the other day. It’s a film about racial tensions in LA, and was touching, poignant, subtle and sweet; one of the best films I’ve seen in a while. It made me think of the small things that affect foreigners and immigrants. You see, people don’t need the word ‘Paki’ blared at them to make them feel bad; it’s the smaller, subtler things that can make them feel like crap.