Beer butt chicken aka that time I sodomised a chicken

Using a beer can. Thought we better clarify that straight away.

We held a barbecue on Saturday and I made Cherry Ripe cup cakes AND a Jamie Oliver recipe called Beer Butt Chicken from Jamie Oliver’s latest cook book.

I thought this was all quite new and revolutionary, but turns out my Kiwi roomie has been doing it for ages. Another friend does it and claims the chicken tips over when it’s ready because the beer can is empty and can no longer hold it up. This I didn’t experience.

What I did experience was amazing feelings of shame and guilt and general repulsivness as I followed the recipes instructions.



Jamie instructed me to make a delicious flavoursum rub for the chicken, them use my hands to rub it into every nook and cranny inside and out. Oh Jamie, you saucy minx. You want me to put my hand up the chicken’s butt. Just say it buddy.

As I lift the chicken juice flows freely from its… well. It’s not pleasant. Neither is shoving my hand up it’s cold and… lets just stop this sentence here.




After you’ve let it sit for a moment, there comes the moment of truth. The moment you shove a half drunk can of beer up it’ butt. Jamie doesn’t mention yelling out phrases like “Take it, take it all!” but I felt that helped.






Then you just wack it on the barbie and 1.25 hours later, hey presto, deliciously beer flavoured chicken, steamed from the inside out. Yum-o.

70s goodness

When I first started this blog I did it because I get so inspired by all those amazing vintage fashion blogs. Such beautiful pictures! So many amazing outfits! Such awesome cats ( I’m looking at you Vintage Vixen)!

Sadly, I suck at taking photos and while I have awesome clothes thanks to years of op-shopping, when cameras and I combine, something happens. Batteries die, light flares occur, my eyes become slightly wonky and in an effort to look shorter but not get a double chin I both hunch and raise my head so every shot is a nostril shot. Awesome right? Also, I tend to lack the ease and glamour of those other bloggers. I cannot pose well, I cannot smile nicely, and I like to do the double thumbs up or pretend to be eating far away objects by opening my mouth real big in at least 70% of photos.

But I have decided to push aside my vanities and go for it anyway. I think you will get a real idea of my poise and class in these. They were taken at Splendor in The Grass this year.



Here I am before the festival pretending to play tennis at an old court with no ball. Needless to say, I won.



Scuse the makeup-less-ness, I was still having my first tea of the morning here.


This awesome dress is a great 70s find. I can’t quite remember where I got it, I think it was an op shop find? Correct me if I’m wrong Damsel Vintage and it was one of yours. It’s made of amazing polyester goodness and if I stand too close to an open flame I could spontaneously explode.



I got a huge amount of compliments, mainly from men, on this dress and I later realized in direct sunlight, it’s see through. Good times.

Horribly guilty pleasures

I have a confession to make. I like intensely bad shows. Like, really, really obscenely bad. So bad I have to covertly download them and watch them alone in my room in the wee hours of the morning.
Don’t get me wrong, I like good shows too. I have the complete Firefly, Buffy, Office (American and English), Black Books, Dead Like Me etc…
But I also own the complete OC. And at least three seasons of Smallville. And my current obsession is no less embarrassing. It’s Hellcats (move to the left, move to the right).



Pic courtesy wiki http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aly_Michalka

The show stars Aly Michalka as Marti, who is a total babe but seems to play the same character in everything she’s been in, and Sharpay from High School Musical (another guilty pressure) or as she’s also known, Ashlee Simpson.


Again, thanks wiki! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashley_Tisdale

And then there is a bunch of young hottie and babealicious babes. And the totally underrated Gail O’Grady as Ally’s character’s mum.

To give you an example of how cheesy, awesome, lame, unnecessary this show is, let me describe the events of one early episode.
Young hottie Marti, a law student turned cheerleader (but solely for the scholarship, cause she’s not into wearing skimpy clothes and cheering, despite her constantly exposing her midriff even off duty) goes to some fundraiser at the bar her Mum is running, then gets into an amazing street dancing spontaneous event BUT two guys that she came with are getting in a fight with some a-holes at the bar- a fight which also just happens to take place in time to the street dance music.

Amazingly, the two hot guys with Marti get put in prison for this fight, so Marti gets her hot shot law lecturer to say some fancy law terms and they’re released with nothing on their record! CAUSE THAT IS TOTALLY HOW THE LAW WORKS!

Throw in some of Sharpay being a good-girl Christian with a bit of praying (now with midriff!) a whole lot of cheerleading, an unnecessary musical number featuring the cast and a heated argument between a cheerleader and their Mum and you basically have every episode ever covered.

It is truly excellent.

Twisties are to my body like petrol is to my car

In the continued dieting in preparation for the wedding (ok, in preparation for life because I’m a little overweight) I recently went on a detox. It was called the Skinny Mini detox and while it didn’t promise weight loss officially it really insinuated it. I mean, it’s got skinny in the title.

It didn’t lie, I lost about 2 kilos on it. But I was also completely unsatisfied THE ENTIRE TIME. There was not one day during the five I was on it that I felt full. And this was a detox you still ate on, not the Lemon Detox Diet where you drink a crapload of maple syrup and lemon juice (lasted two day, spewed constantly. From both ends if you must know). On this detox you could have fruit and veg (limited amounts of pumpkin, sweet potato, potato of course) and some fish. Despite allegedly being able to eat, I was never ever full. I don’t care what you vegetarians say, you can eat five tones of lettuce and your stomach still be empty. It was about as satisfying as licking salad the entire time.




So after my detox, here’s how I celebrated. I went to Ribbits at Dutton Park. And it was awesome, despite the judging from waiters because I kept ordering more. Hey, it was all you could eat! And I had a week of salad to make up for.

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Books pirates forced me to read this week at gunpoint

Isn’t it weird that read (as in go read that- future tense) and read (as in I already read that – past tense) are spelt the same? It’s like when you look at a word for too long and you’re like fork can’t just be four letters. It’s deceiving me!

Anyhow, I’ve decided to start up a weekly section called what I read this week (actually I’ve changed it. That was too boring). I read at least one book a week, and even if it’s as boring as crap for you, at least it can advise you not to read the stuff I’m reading. And trust me; I have no shame when it comes to reading crappy books. I own the complete Princess Diaries and I’m proud of it. I may even name my daughter Mia.

This week I started out with The Distant Hours by Kate Moreton. Kate is actually a family friend so it’s interesting to read her books and pick up little personal references. This is her third book and I think the best. I read it in one afternoon and was hooked from the beginning. It skillfully weaves the narratives of three sisters and a history hunting daughter and is full of mystery and family secrets. Kick-ass book Kate! She should totally put this review on her back cover.

My next book was The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, the amazing author of A Little Princess (which is not to be confused with The Princess Diaries, although clearly I have a thing for princesses). I’ve read this before but only just found a copy to keep and was inspired by a Vixen Vintage post on the movie. It’s also kick-ass- full of ugly sour girls and bitchy cripples and a total babe called Dickon (imagine him having that name now. Poor bastard. I actually interviewed a teenager whose last name was Dickfrost recently. Sucks to be him). Is it wrong to be crushing on a 12-year-old? Well yes, but he had a lot of animals and I’m a sucker for animals.

Third book was So Much To Tell You by John Marsden, best known for the Tomorrow When The War Began series. This was his first published book and it’s amazing. The book is the journal of a girl who no longer speaks after a horrific accident involving her father. John doesn’t spell out the accident, the results or the situation but lets the reader uncover it.

Next on the agenda – Sleepers by Lorenzo Carcaterra. I read it several years ago but can’t remember much of it. It is an autobiography of sorts, about when Lorenzo and three mates accidently kill someone in a prank, go to boys reformatory and then become hardened criminals themselves after being abused by the guards. Eventually the boys grow into men and shoot their tormentor in a crowded bar decades later, than stand trial for the murder.

Anybody got any more recommendations for me?

I’m pretty sure my body runs best on cheese and cheese flavored snacks

So, as the day of doom approaches (or if we’re being traditional, the wedding), I had to start a diet. Since meeting That Dude I’m Going to Marry I have steadily put on weight as try and match his impressive eating habits.
Turns out, when he was younger he had part of his gall bladder removed and now food essentially goes in one end and out the other. Whereas with me, it goes in one end and then attaches itself to my thighs. F you food.

Below is a photo of my boyfriend. Amazingly I have captured his speech with my camera!




Ok, you got me. It’s Gumby.

Anyway, since I have put on 15 kilos in the 4 years we’ve been together, I really need to do something about this before the wedding. And not just because I’m festively plump, but because I am really unhealthy. I tried to help carry a pretty light TV up the one lot of stairs to our house the other day and stopped breathing on the fifth step. So to fix this I did two things – took up Bikram yoga and went on a diet.

First up, Bikram yoga is effing extreme. It is sweating in a room of 40 degrees (105 if you’re in America) or higher, with 40 per cent humidity, holding poses that basically hurt for 90 mins. People are known to vomit, pass out, cry or literally CRAP THEIR PANTS. I did none of these things because I am a tank.



This video makes it seem like there was a lot of babes sweating sexily to porno music. There is a lot of babes but it turns out, no one sweats sexily.

Now the second part of my master plan – eat well. And I did. I ate mainly vegetables, some turkey and tuna, small amounts of dairy. This may not sound like much, but my typical diet is:
Breakfast – left over pizza from dominos, glass of coke
Lunch (which stretches over the entire work day for me) – packet of Twisties (big), several glasses of coke. Usually sushi or something for the main meal, but not the healthy kinds, the tempura fried, wrapped in egg kind. Or as I like to call it, the good kind. Oh, and at least one Mars Bar

Dinner: more coke, usually steak, some form of potato, a few token veges and a rich creamy sauce.

Sounds like heaven right? Well, after going to Bikram yoga five days a week for five weeks and sticking to my diet of veges, water and lean meat. I lost approximately -2 kilos. That’s right, I gained weight. And don’t give that muscle weighs more than fat crap because I measured myself and I was bigger.

OH AND I GOT A RASH. A big, allergy rash all over my neck and chest that I had to take pills for.
I am allergic to being healthy. My body wants coke, cheese, bread and bacon.

I’m off to combine those ingredients into a sandwich.

This blog she is a-changing (best sung to the tune of These Boots Are Made For Walking)

So – you may have noticed for a while there that I stopped blogging. There are several reasons for this:
a) My computer died. Too much midget porn, according to my buddy who fixed it (I paid him in Cherry Ripe cup cakes and donkey porn)
b) I developed a life. Well, not really, but I did get a whole heap of new books and reading is my favorite thing to do, and we had some family issues and I’ve got this mother-flipping wedding to plan and I took up Bikram yoga ( a post on that soon) and then gave it up again cause it was so pricey.
c) My camera is a P.O.S and I can’t take any decent photos with it and finally
d) I just wasn’t feeling the theme anymore. Really – I love zombies, I love vintage, but confining myself to a particular genre (coming soon to a library near you!) was too limiting. Most of my conversations come back to zombies anyway but when I feel like I have to they just don’t. And my previous posts have been less than amusing, for sure.
So now this blog will be about whatever I feel like. Oh, the crap I’m going to write….
No seriously. It’ll be crap. My apologies in advance.

Today I nearly died, but I’m pretty sure some old ladies just thought I was joy riding and tut tutted at me.

Today I nearly died, but I’m pretty sure some old ladies just thought I was joy riding and tut tutted at me.

No seriously, it has been pouring rain in Brissie all day and while going through the rabbit warren, round-a-bout ridden hell that is the place that I work (let’s call it Smorth Shmakes), my car spun out. I wasn’t speeding, I was just singing along to Regina Spektor while driving through the round-a-bout when WHAMMO I was facing the wrong way. If some one had been behind me it would have become a head on collision.
Some cars coming the other way paused for a second then drove on around me. While I was all “Holy fudgepacker, I just did that thing they do in the Blues Brothers when they park a car and am I even alive?”.



That’s right, near death experiences make me think of the Blues Brothers. Then I drove the wrong way up a road so I could U-turn and get to my interview on time. Because I am a mother-effin professional. And on the way home I did 80 in a 100 zone and five billion trucks passed me and I didn’t care because I was so scared still.

People who get back in cars after serious crashes are amazingly brave.

But the most annoying part about this near death experience is the other motorists seriously seemed to think I was joy riding or hooning or something. And I can guarantee that at least one of them will write a letter to the editor to MY paper about kids these days and probably give out my license plate number. Old people suck (except you Grandma).

Beautiful etsy finds

I have an addiction to online shopping. Sadly I don't have the budget for it, but still every now and then I treat myself to some treasures.

The upside of this is when you get beautiful items and discover an excellent new seller.

Etsy seller http://www.etsy.com/shop/merchantofkismet is awesome.

Check out how my goodies came wrapped:



Apologies for the blurriness but so pretty! I was expecting maybe a plastic bag but it's like getting a present.

Here are my beautiful buys:


I got a pretty diamante bow brooch, a pearl and lavender string necklace and pretty white flower clip on earrings (I use them as shoe and dress clips).

Unfortunately when zpoc hits these will be useless but it's important to enjoy the finer things in life while you can.

My dog is cheating on me with construction workers

I am a sucker for animals. If it's not human but still breathing I love it. As a result of this, I have three dogs that no one in their right mind would have chosen.
Dash is the original of these. She is a little Kelpie cross Lab cross Collie. When That Dude I'm Marrying and my roommate finally gave in to my request to adopt a dog about two years ago, had they know Dash would be the result, we'd have driven in the opposite direction. Maybe even moved internationally.

This is the cause of the trouble:



When we went to the Animal Welfare League we wanted to get a puppy but were unable because we weren't home enough for one. Dash was listed as Pet of the Week- she was on special and had been there for months as a stray. No one wanted her. I looked through the wire cage and she stared back at me. The boys told me not to touch her, that I couldn't go petting dogs through fences and if I touched her we'd have to get her. It was too late. I was patting her. We named her Dash for ability to run really, really fast.

We soon learned another thing about Dash. She can jump anything. Like, me, and I'm 6 foot. Fences were a joke to her. And tying her up? Also a joke. She just chews through. If she doesn't chew through it, she rolls in her own poo to punish you for punishing her. And another thing? She really enjoys barking. At anything. She has small dog syndrome and must constantly assert her authority over everything. An ant, the mail man, a mother pushing a pram. Basically she's the worst dog ever. She is so accident prone that she's spent as much of her three year life wearing a cone around her head to stop her biting her stitches as she's spent without it.



This is her with a dinosaur bone from a T-rex she took down earlier.


She once got bit by a flesh eating spider and nearly turned into a zombie dog. Seriously, her leg turned green.

Anyway, the worst thing about Dash is her love of people. That little bitch waits till we're merrily off at work for the day and jumps the fence. In the afternoon the only sign she's been out for the day is meat pie wrappers in the yard, a mysterious ball no one bought her and the occasional surprise bone. She's been spotted hanging out at construction sites, service stations and the train station.

Dash now has a second family at the industrial estate across the road. One day, while frantic with worry searching for her, I wandered from workshop to workshop asking if they'd seen a little black dog.

"Oh Dash, yeah she was here this morning... should be at the smash repairs shop about now."

"Yup, little Dash usually come around at smoko - that's her spot."

I look and see a bowl of water in a shady corner. The ungrateful thing has been cheating on us, bumming food off tradies. Apparently she even does tricks for them! They all know her name from her tag but have given up calling us because they just see her jump back home before we show up in the afternoons.

Dog of the Week my arse.



Oh, but how can I resist this?

I am patient zero

I have been in the ugly clutches of the flu for the past few months.
It comes for a few days, I fend it off with drugs and eating everything orange in sight, then I forget, go outside at night and WHAMMO. It gets me again.
I look so horrible and am so snotty and mucusy that I struggle to breath. I can't sleep because if I doze off I forget to hack and snort and inhale. This has resulted in pasty, sweaty skin, dark circles under my bloodshot eyes and basically the air of a decomposing person. I am patient X, where it all began, and there is a good chance I will soon switch to eating human flesh, zombie like, as the mucus consumes my brain.

I look a little like this:

Again, thanks wiki! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Zombie_costume_portrait.jpg

Naturally, the day when I go into work and don't even try to attempt to cover my hideousness with makeup is the day the photographers decide to take new photos off all journos for our photo bylines.
Let me explain - I work as a journalist for a couple of community newspapers - on the index page and along the top of some pages, they run 1/2 photos of the writer - from waist to to of head.

I looked like hell. I not changed my hair from the rough bun I had slept in. I was wearing the clothes nearest to my bed and they were un-ironed and stained. I had not even washed my face. The photographer winced when I smiled. When I removed my bright pink raver sunglasses he shuddered. When he looked took the photo I think he just aimed roughly and hit the button. The results were as good as could be expected.

On the upside, residents have stopped calling me asking me to cover their stories. They obviously value their lives.

Dear computer, we used to be such good buds. Why would you do this to me?

My computer has selfishly decided to take a time out from our relationship, which is why all has been quite on the interwebs lately.
The computer has been making amazing grinding sounds for several months, and if I don't hold it exactly right the screen dies.
Sometimes is makes ascending whirring noises like it's about to take off.
Finally it just stopped turning on, so I've sent it to be fixed, but there is a good chance it's now dead to me. Which means future updates will be typo-ridden and from my iphone (why does it predictive text the world's most stupid words? Its should NEVER be changed to IRS) or ffrom my roomie's stolen laptop while they sleep.
In other news, I've decide to visit Melbourne this September (yay tax return!). Any suggestions on what to see/do?

A Tax Haiku

According to www.wikipedia.org: Haiku (俳句, haikai verse?) listen (help·info), plural haiku, is a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 moras (or on), in three phrases of 5, 7, and 5 moras respectively.[1] Although haiku are often stated to have 17 syllables,[2] this is inaccurate as syllables and moras are not the same. Haiku typically contain a kigo (seasonal reference), and a kireji (cutting word).

The world rushes on
but my tax return stays still. In
my head I've spent you

Well, I did get all confused with my syllabals and my moras (something which I'd mastered in 7th grade Japanese, so this haiku experiemnet is further proof that I am getting dumber as I get older), but I think I mainly got it. There are definately some cutting words.

A ghetto ode to my tax return

Bitch - where you at? My shizzle don't pay for itself. It's been three weeks. Deposit yourself or Ima have to bust a cap in yo ass. Word.

Looking back I should have tried to write the word crunk in there, but I can't seem to fit it.

It's been three weeks since I lodged my tax return and I have already spent it six times in my head. Realistically I will put it on my credit card, but in today's dream i will instead travel to the Tim Burton exhibit in Melbourne.

So until you make nice with my bank account and move in tax return, I will post a poem about you each day. And there is a reason I am not the next Shakespeare.
Prepare yourself. Dope, word, crunk etc.

The splendor bender

I've been quiet around the interwebs the last week or so, caught up in the epicness that is Splendor in the Grass.
For those non-Aussies, this is the most expensive and awesome musical festival in our country, and goes for about four days.
This is the first year I've managed to get tickets (which was a mission in itself and had my entire office screaming at their computers as we all hoped and prayed and got kicked out of the queue at 17 only to return in 38,9078 place. No really), so I was pretty excited.

It was a great festival, despite some awful traffic issues and the general freezingness that is Woodford, so I've managed to get over my hatred for the ticketing system. Bands included Goldfrapp, Scissor Sisters, Mumford and Sons, THE PIXIES, Florence and the Machine, Temper Trap, Washington, Clare Bowditch, Paul Kelly and lots more awesome.

I have some radcore oozing wounds on my feet from dancing in my gumboots and will need to sleep for a few days but it was all worth it.



ABOVE: Me in excellent raver sunnies, a vintage 70s dress and rainbow gumboots on my way to the site.

Splendor would be a deathtrap in a zombie invasion so I dressed appropriately
Crappy raver sunnies,a warm dress, tights in my bag for when it gets colder, a sack with the essentials (water, snacks, phone)and hardcore gumboots (ok, they're rainbow and sparkly but still legitimate gumboots).

The reason Splendor would be so dangerous in an outbreak is the sheer mass of people and over-excited security guards. It's set in rough bushland with large open spaces carved out for stages and paddocks for the hundreds of cars and campers. Small paths and bridges link the areas. If even one was infected it would quickly spread in such tightly packed crowds and seeing as a lot of people are already hallucinating some crazy crap on drugs anyway, it would not be recognized as an outbreak.
If it happens, your best bet is to ignore the security guards and make for any kind of exit -not the marked ones as those will be hard to get to - but any fence or barricade you can scale. Then head for the high ground surrounding the festival site and let the zombies feast on the masses as you look for a defensive position to ride it out in until you can move to a long term spot or your back-up bunker.

My rainbow gumboots were made for this shiz.

Vintage originals versus reproductions - what's better? And does it really matter when you're being chased by zombies? Part II

Last post we covered the greatness of vintage (like how I said we like there are a room of people gathered around nodding in agreement, not just me watching Step Up and typing in my jammies).

This post we're going to look at side b, the vintage reproduction. These can be just as pricey as vintage on occasion, but are more readily available and there are some talented sewers out there selling some awesome things on Etsy and ebay. Also, larger vintage reproduction clothing lines ship internationally and are creating some amazing stuff.

Check out http://heartbreakerfashion.com/ - it has some lovely vintage repros.




ABOVE: A heartbreaker dress I got from eBay. Sturdy and will hide bloodstains, but makes you an easy target.

Also, check out etsy seller vintage viola at http://www.etsy.com/people/violavintage.



ABOVE: Cool Twiggy style dress available at http://www.etsy.com/listing/29085834/vintage-style-1960s-dress-size-medium-68 . Dark colours are zombie appropriate - you can blend in in many environments and they hide blood stains! Short length also makes for easy maneuverability when escaping.


This seller also makes some brilliant reproductions: http://www.etsy.com/shop/thepinkkitten?ref=seller_info




ABOVE: Stunning blue dress available at http://www.etsy.com/listing/51473424/lucky-number-3-vintage-reproduction-40s?ref=sr_list_29&ga_search_query=vintage+reproduction+dress&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_page=&order=&includes[]=tags&includes[]=title The colour makes you target but it's great until the apocalypse hits.

Repros will probably be more readily available after the apocalypse and as most are machine made from heavy cotton, they can take a beating and a lot of washing if you're traveling light on your escape. It's a tough call on what's going to be better in a zombie war though. To be honest you're probably best with some jeans and a range of t-shirts - but you won't look nearly as good.

Vintage originals versus reproductions - what's better? And does it really matter when you're being chased by zombies?

On the vintage fashion scene it's hotly debated. Is a true vintage fashionista selling out when she or he buys a reproduction? If that's correct than I'm going to hell because I'm a fan of both.


Original vintage really can't be beat for its beautiful, often delicate fabrics and amazing claps and patterns. Much true vintage will have covered fabric buttons, matching belts home sewn and amazing vintage quirks like old fabric scrap stuffing in the shoulder pads because stuffing was hard to get a hold of in parts of Australia.





ABOVE: Neck detail on a cream vintage dress from my collection. Would be useless in zpoc because of its light colour and sheerness. It's basically useless now for these reasons.

If you can find handmade vintage you know it's a one off and going to be sturdy edition to your wardrobe. Mass-produced vintage isn't even mass produced anymore, with few of these treasures surviving. And in terms of price, my experience is that a nice reproduction dress can cost as much, or more, than an original. Sadly, it can be hard to find in Australia because we are a relatively young country with a small population compared to America. Check out Paddington Antique Centre, the Valley markets and Annerly's op shops for a few finds. Some amazing, true quality vintage is available from Etsy and most sellers do post internationally. Check out these items from the lovely Fab Gabs Vintage:



ABOVE: A stunning 1950s checked dress - available at http://www.etsy.com/listing/46402844/vintage-1950s-checkmate-sexy-secretary. Photo by the talented Lulu from http://www.camerabandit.com/ The long sleeves and gingham wool will help protect from zombie bites but the length of the skirt could hinder a quick escape. I would suggest wearing only at sieges where you'll be defending from a secure position.



ABOVE: Fab Gabs items cover a large price range, with this item up for grabs for $20 US. Available at http://www.etsy.com/listing/52112749/fab-gabs-10-and-20-1970s-lavendar-lilac and photo once more by Lulu from http://www.camerabandit.com/ Remember that lilac won't look so great with blood stains if you get attacked by zombies, and bodily fluids from undeads could be hard to wash out.

Now are these awesome dresses zombie appropriate? Probably not. They don't provide the most warmth or flexibility but if they've lasted this long they should be pretty durable. They're also so attractive you might be able to fool fellow survivors into giving you vital food supplies with your 'come hither' looks.

Next post will focus on the reproductions argument.

Zonks Batman! World War Z Movie is a goer.

ABOVE: World War Z cover courtesy www.wikipedia.com


It's just been announced at Comic Con - the long awaited World War Z movie is happening once more.
Based on the awesome book by Max Brooks (son of Mel Brooks of Spaceballs fame), the movie has been confirmed to star Brad Pitt, whose production company Plan B bought the rights to the book in a massive bidding war some time ago.

Rumor has it that they're taking their sweet time with the movie because as well as being a great horror zombie movie, it could be an awards contender for its dramatic themes.

For those that haven't read the book I plan to do a full review in a month's time but it is an amazing and frighteningly accurate look at how the human race would crumble in an outbreak. Brooks' take on how human's morals would be thrown on the window is very realistic and plausable.

Worl War Z has a 2020 release date and with the studio also buying the rights to Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide and Recorded Attacks graphic novel we could be set for a franchise.

Bill Murray is a fudging legend.

Pic by Paul Sherwood from Welland & Toronto, Canada courtesy of www.wikipedia.com

No seriously. This man is way under rated. Some of you may know him from Ghostbusters. Many will recognise him from Zombieland (you know Mark Hamill was originally considered for this cameo? Bill Murray craps all over Hamill). If you grew up watching mouldy video tapes like I did, Groundhog Day will be your most vivid Murray memory. Apparently, he got bitten a few times by the groundhog during the filming.

So why is Bill Murray such a legend? I mean, he is responsible for the horrific Garfield movie. And not to offside indie kids everywhere, but I thought Rushmore was pretty average.

But Bill Murray is not a legend because of his films. Groundhog Day, Ghostbusters and many of his work are cultural gems and it’s not like the man can’t act. But he is a legend becaase despite his fame, he “Has no agent, no business manager, no lawyer, or favorite hair and make-up artist. He travels without an entourage” (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000195/).

He’s also known for completely adlibbing his scenes when he feels the writers word aren’t up to scratch (he seems to feel this all the time). He’s been spotted bar tending at an American music festival, reading poetry to construction workers and my favorite Bill Murray story is that he sneaks up to people on the street from behind, covers their eyes and says “Guess who?”. Then when he reveals himself and the person says Bill Murray, he laughs and says “No one will ever believe you”. (http://gawker.com/5103788/sad-bill-murray-accosting-people-in-union-square and http://leisureblogs.chicagotribune.com/about-last-night/2010/07/on-the-record-bill-murray.html and many others). I’m basically going to walk the streets of Chicago one day in a Ghostbusters t-shirt till this happens. This story about him taking over a school tour group is nearly as great (http://filmmakermagazine.com/news/2010/07/bill-murray-and-me ).


ABOVE: Murray in Ghostbusters. So I don't get my pants sued off, I don't hold the copywright to this image and believe I am using it in conjunction with the fair use rational. It's from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Peter_GB1.jpg. Also, I own jack all Columbia Pictures so unless you want my collection of Phantom comics, don't even bother with legal action.

The number one reason Bill Murray is a legend? He has an 800 number for people to contact him on. That’s it. You don’t call his manager, email him or post a letter. His people don’t talk to your people. You leave a message on this mysterious 800 number and if he feels like it, he might get back to you. I would kill for that number.

So, what does this mean in the zombie apocalypse? Well, these personality traits could mean amazing survival or instant death for Murray.
With little contact with the outside world, he won’t have an issue with holing up for survival. But because he can’t be easily contacted, he may not even find out the apocalypse is on. Then, when he next plays the Guess Who game, he might lose a hand. My theory is Murray will survive. He has the money to stay at home for a while then the celebrity for other survivors to assist him. I mean, I would let myself be slowed down for Bill Murray. That’s another question we’ll address in the future: If a loved one was slowing you down in the race for survival, would you off them? And what celebrity would you allow to join your survival team?

Hang on to your tasty, tasty brains

The zombie apocolypse is inevitable. I’m not here to debate that. There will, possibly soon, be a time when all of us reduced to walking bags of takeaway for the zombie that will overrun this planet.

That I’m not too worried about. The real issue here is – how will this impact our lives? While at some stage they will out number us and our civilization will be reduced to going ‘underground’ for some time, there is going to be a couple of years in the beginning and the end where zombies are another facet of everyday living.

We must learn how they’ll impact a trip to the movies, a party, a visit to the beach. It’s something Cosmopolitian and Vogue magazine has yet to address – how to tell if your boyfriend is a zombie, or just really into your brain for all the right reasons (it’s not as obvious as it would seem when you’re a 15-year-old girl that finds the death pallour and stilted conversation of Edward Cullen a turn-on). Seriously, it's discussed here http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100322114634AAcWPmT

ABOVE: Edward Cullen Zombie Sock Puppet by Underroos. It's fudging awesome. Buy it at http://www.etsy.com/listing/34906811/edward-cullen-the-sock-zombie-puppet

This blog aims to do all that and more – inform the reader of the amazing culture currently around us before our brains become someone’s snack of choice AND evaluate how our lives and tastes are going to fit in with the zombie world. How should we dress? Do our current outfits come up to scratch? What are some zombie guides you can read? What musicians will help carry us through the dark times? Is your hair just garnish on your brain cake, or can it be used in the upcoming war? And what are the cool events you should be checking out before the overcoming lust to eat human flesh numbs all else?

Please comment on any post – we all need to be sharing tips if we’re going to survive and rebuild civilization afterwards. After all, there’s a good chance your face book friend count is going to dive rapidly after the apocalypse, so we’d better stick together.