A Salute to Oscar.

This little dude is Oscar the Owl. Never mind the fact that all owls I see are promptly named Oscar, whether they're male or not, this one is special. You see, he makes sure the broom doesn't do anything bad while we're out. I love you, Oscar! You are officially my second-favourite owl ever.

The Eight Best Villains Ever.

8. Cats
Zero Wing
I'm sure everybody's heard the phrase "All your base are belong to us" at least once.
Well, meet the man who spoke these famous words.

How are you, gentlemen? All your base are belong to us. You are on the way to destruction.
also...
For great justice, take off every zig.
What is a zig? How exactly does one take it off? The world may never know... but Cats does!

7. Macavity the Mystery Cat
CATS
With the added bonus of being the creepiest-looking cat in the entire show, he's got a badass red-and-white jumpsuit, and a song about him [which is also pretty badass]. And come one... it's plain those chicks want his body. [Not me, though... I'm going for The Rum Tum Tugger. Meow, indeed.]

6. Scar
The Lion King
OK, so I know he's a cartoon lion. But he's so awesome! I remember thinking he was soooo cooool when I was little. So he gets a spot on here. Plus, he's voiced by Jeremy Irons, which makes him instantly badass.

Scar: Be prepared.
Hyena: Yeah, sure, ha, we'll be prepared. ... For what?
Scar: For the death of the king!
Hyena: What, is he sick?
Scar [taking hyena by throat]: No, fool, we're gonna kill him. [drops hyena.]

[Heh heh. Did you notice my first three were cats? :)]

5. The monster from the id/ Dr. Morbeus' other self
Forbidden Planet
This is perhaps the second coolest non-humanoid villian ever [first is Kerrigor, listed as tied for first :).] And the fact that it actually comes from the mind of a docile old man is even more awesome. And it's out there to prove that CG has ruined the science fiction genre, and you can do some pretty kick-ass things with simple animation. And you CG "animators" better listen. Do you really want this thing knocking at your door? Didn't think so.

4. HAL 9000
2001: A Space Odyssey
One of those bad guys you feel bad for when they eventually lose. HAL is not necessarily a villain, since he went mad, but he is the antagonist nonetheless. More than just a computer, and that voice has the ability to send shivers down my spine.

I'm sorry Dave... I'm afraid I can't do that.



3. Darth Vader
Star Wars
Yeah, I know, I'm being so original here for my number three spot. But come on... when a guy makes his first appearance in a movie choking a man not technically using his bare hands [since he's using the Force] while simultaneously hovering him above the ground, and speaks like James Earl Jones [albeit with asthma], you have no choice but to admit he deserves this spot. If I hadn't been so enamoured of girly men and zombie lords, he would be number one.

I find your lack of faith disturbing.

2. Dr. Frank-N-Furter
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Oh, Frankie, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
My favourite extraterrestrial transvestite singing mad scientist. Never mind he might just be the the only one. That doesn't matter.

So... come up to the lab. And see what's on the slab. I see you shiver with antici... pation.

THE INCREDIBLE TIE FOR FIRST!

I honestly couldn't decide. So here. You can have both.

1. Jareth the Goblin King
Labyrinth
When you have to spend like, three minutes trying to figure out which picture to use, you're obsessional. I am a self-proclaimed David Bowie addict, and there's nothing I, you, or anybody else could possibly do about it. Tight pants, make-up, and the hottest wig ever. What else could I possibly want? Hm... maybe if the pants were just a little tighter. All I know is, I would not be saving Toby. No siree.

It's a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams.







1. Kerrigor
Sabriel by Garth Nix
The picture of Kerrigor on here is on the front cover of the book, but I might just have to draw this dude a way better picture, because that's not what I imagine him as. Basically, Kerrigor is a swirling column of darkness with glowing white eyes and a voice described as "liquid" who commands a hoard of zombies. I mean, I find it hard to find words that can describe just how awesome he is. I can talk about him for at least an hour. And he like, never dies! I mean, it takes forever to keep him down, you can never actually kill Kerrigor. He comes back after death, and you can never fully kill his spirit. In fact, for about ten minutes in the book, he actually goes back into his dead body, which is well, attractive. You know, until he starts rotting. Psh. Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's the co-protagonist's brother, and a prince who killed his own mother so he could take over the throne. In comparison, Kerrigor's brother is such a wimp. Kerrigor is every monster under your bed combined, and truly your worst nightmare.
I ♥ you, Kerrigor. I ♥ you.
Man... haha, he would probably kill me for that. In fact, he'd kill me for anything. He's just messed up like that.

"An inconvenience," he said with a voice that was only marginally more human, "I should have remembered that you were a troublesome brat."

[He says this after Sabriel {protagonist} tries basically everything in her power to contain him, and he is forced to go back into his human body.]

"But I'm still frightened by the telephone..."

Artiste: Gary Numan
Song: I Die: You Die
Album: Telekon
Year: 1980

So this song has definitely been my obsession this week. Gary Numan is amazing. :) That little red streak in his hair is the shit. I'm tempted to do that...

The Things I Do For Love

Looking at my wardrobe, I often wonder if I'm some sort of masochist. Not only are my clothes oftentimes painful, but they make people look at me incredulously as I walk by. Strangers and enemies, any way. Friends and family are used to me by now... or should be.
I have basically two groups of clothing: socks/ underwear and thrift store purchases. Little of my clothing is actually bought new. A few pairs of jeans and a t-shirt or two, but that's about it. I am a self-proclaimed Goodwill junky, as well as the Community Closet, a store near my house I was practically raised in. And yard sales. Can't forget those. I can just imagine myself standing up in a room full of sitting people and saying nervously "Hello, my name is Lizz and I am addicted to other people's clothing." Everybody else robotically replies "Hiiiii, Lizz."
The problem with this is the ridiculous amount of upkeep these clothes often demand. For example, I have absolutely no idea how old my favourite pair of gloves is, as they weren't mine to begin with, I just know that one or the other will constantly have at least one hole. The difficult and usually painful process involved in fixing these holes consists of first turning them inside out, cursing to oneself, threading the tiny needle, more cursing, attempting to align the two halves that need sown together, complaining to anyone who will listen, even if this involves calling someone, shoving the needle through up to four layers of leather, stabbing oneself, cursing some more, and pulling the needle back out. There. There's your first stitch. This is repeated multiple times. Then there's turning the glove back right side out, which is just as hard as turning it inside-out, and finally, being dissatisfied with one's work. Then, do it for the other glove. Do it all over again in about a month.
Do you wanna know the really pathetic part? I very rarely wear them out of the house.
Another example of this constant upkeep is possibly my favourite pair of jeans. They're three years old, and for the first two and a half of the three, they remained uninteresting. Then, one fateful day, my friend wielded her deadly black Sharpie of doom. And with it, wrote the words that would change my jeans' life... across my thigh, in big, bold letters: "SUCK IT." Of course, I could no longer wear these jeans to school in their current insulting state, nor at home. I hate to throw anything away, being the biggest packrat ever, so that was out of the question. So I did the only thing I could do: I cleared a space for them on my floor, laid them down, clutched four Sharpies in my hand, and said "Let's do this thing," a phrase that is almost always the precursor to something monumental in my life lately (whether this monumental thing is good or bad).
A day later, I looked down at the fruits of my labour and now marker-stained hands. Covered in words, pictures, and sequins, they were like a giant collage of what was in my mind... in pants form. As for the immortal first words, I made them look a little like a spiderweb, but you can still read it if you look close enough. For a few days, I didn't wear them. Not only that, I barely touched them. I even scolded myself a few times for breathing on them. I just sat back and basked in their sequined glory. I eventually wore them. All the sequins came off in the first wash, which left me depressed. (I never replaced the sequins as some of it was quite intricate and would be ridiculously difficult to sew on, as they were glued the first time, so that's in silver and blue Sharpie now.)
In case you haven't noticed, Sharpie washes out eventually, so every four or five washes I have to re-ink the whole thing. It takes half an hour to an hour, depending on how exact I'm being. The words aren't so hard, but there's a big bizarre drawing of an eye that I'm pretty sure uses all my Sharpie colours. It takes up half of one leg. It was great the first time, but ever since, one thing has been off every time I rework it. But I love my graffiti jeans to death.
The reason this puzzles me, this obsession with my clothes and keeping them awesome, is because I am self- and not self-proclaimedly one of the laziest people I know. I seldom wear make-up, my hair is usually a dishevelled mess, and I am the only person who truly knows how to successfully navigate my room. (Don't believe other people who say they can!) So why go through all this trouble? Well, like exactly how many licks it takes to get the centre of a Tootsie Roll Pop, or how Ronald Reagan possibly became President, the world may never know.
Then there's the clothes that are actively disintegrating. Besides the belt I stopped wearing because fifty-year-old leather chips off every time I touch it (not pleasant), there are also a few more recent finds. Such as one of my favourite jackets, which I call my "MC Hammer jacket", but has also been referred to as "the disco ball jacket" and "Lizz, what the hell are you wearing?!" It's covered in gold sequins. It even has its own slogan! "It will blow your mind and blind you... at the same time." I can't wear it out into direct sunlight because of the threat it would pose, and I don't want to get sued. I would wear it every day if I could, but two or three fall off every time. Two or three every day would result in a jacket I could wear in direct sunlight, but would also make me feel strangely lonely.
Perhaps the most famous of my "actively disintegrating" clothes are my feather boas, I will surely own more later, but right now I only have purple one and a blue one. I often wear them to school. I relish the weird looks. I have had reactions ranging from the appalled to the confused and everywhere in between.
If you wish to stalk me, you can tell exactly where I've been the trail of bright feathers I leave behind. I have the odd distinction of being able to look down at the floor and say "Man, I'm moulting again."
Then comes the clothing that is actually painful. My short attention span helps me with these. Just when I think I cannot walk any farther in my bronze leather cowboy boots, I look down at them and realize just how shiny they are, which tends to take my mind off things quite effectively, as my friends should know. Also, the clicking noise any pair of my boots make is sufficiently entertaining.
My painful apparel is not only limited to shoes. I have a few jackets that I can only describe as "stifling", and I also own a pair of pants that, if I gained five pounds, I'm almost sure would cut off the circulation in my legs. Oh, they're my favourites.
Then there's the just plain ridiculous things, such as the massive dress that practically takes up a whole closet, so it's hung in the garage, the intricate and sparkly Mercury wings I made for my four-year-old decomposing red Chuck Taylor high-tops, and my many pairs of stiletto heels that never leave the house.
Even if my clothing is a bit outlandish at times, I love it, no matter what you people say. Who else wears aviators to school just because she feels like it? Who else puts on tights and a feather boa just to hang around the house? I was once called "an alien" by a friend's mom because I was wearing a red trenchcoat, leather gloves, and a beret. I take great pride in that fact.
Make fun of me all you want.
You just wish you owned a purple alligator jacket.

Witness the Power of My Hyperness

So...
Life...
FOUND A QUEEN TAPE I HAVEN'T LISTENED TO!!!
The Game... 1980
It makes me soooo HAPPY!
AHHHH!
God, I bet I'll read this tomorrow and feel so stupid.
But I am hyper
And I need some of that there JELLLLLL-OOOOO.
Which I will do.
Ho-ho-ho-ho-hold up. [[check it out.]]
I must sashay to the fridge and back. [with my freakin BLANKET CAPE.]
Be right back with my JELL-O.
[I know you're jealous.]

Bad news....
Methinks my Walkman batteries are goin' d-d-d-d-dead.
BUT I CAN FIX IT!
'Cause I'm freakin Bob the freakin Builder.
And you're jealous of me and my Jell-O.
And DJ headphones.
And Queen listening to...ness...

I had this weird-ass dream, man...
Me and like, my entire extended family
Plus a few fictional characters
Were living in this ginormous house in...
Japan?
And every night we had
Mashed potatoes
Beets
And coleslaw
For dinner
And that's it.
My room was crappy, it was super-cold.
And blue.
And always moodily lit.
Yes, even at night.
Somehow.

Intense Labyrification these past few days
I blame youuuu, Taylor!!!
Of course...
You're not entirely to blame...
Of course...
Hm... tights... sparkles.
Tasssstttyy.

My mommma made me clean my roooooomm...
'Cause it was getting to the point
Where you could not walk through it
Without stepping on some sort of
FOREIGN OBJECT!
And I found many...
[Can you guess it?!]
{Go ahead... guess.}
[GUESS.]






[Did you guess?]

SHINY THINGS!

A medley of
Several sequins
Leftovers from some clothes
Ribbon
Tensil
Sparkles in general.
Put them in the very entertaining
GLITTER JAR. [[You know you want it.]]

I would save you, Freddie!
But it's toooo late, my gay/ dead loverboy.
Too late. *tear*
RIP Freddie, darling.
Feel free to possess me if you're ever feeling down.
Any time.

The other day
I was craving
PEACHES
But there were no peaches within the houssssse
Not even in a can!
I know, unfair, right? [[You know it is.]]
So I settled for an apple.
We had ONE left
And I kid you not
It was PERFECT
Like, red and round and SH-SH-SH-SHIIIINNNY.
I didn't wanna eat it and destroy it
Plus
Lurking in the back of my mind
I was thinkin...
It kinda looked like a
POISON APPLE.
Ain't no way I'm eating that bad puppy.

Pst...
I KNOW the truth.
I have SEEN the truth.
AND YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
[Not even you, Kay. Not even you.]

P.S.

DRAGON ATTACK!

Neccessity

A bird can't fly without it's wings....

A man can't drown without his lungs...



And I can't do geometry homework without listening to Gary Numan.

That's just the way it's done.

Stupendous quote of the day.

"I'm sure you noticed just the one earring he was wearing. And that startled quite a lot of people who were watching the programme, and a number of people wrote in to comment about it."

-- Russell Harty, after interviewing David Bowie in January of 1973.

[[What did they write in to say? "What the hell was with the earring?"]]

Random Notes On A Blackout

Something about being bereft of electricity changes the human mind considerabely. Notions that died after childhood are resurrected and rekindled. Ghosts and demons, goblins and little green men. These things are all around us, as we are robbed of our eyesight outside a small radius. Other humans might become beacons in the night: pinpricks of light outside your walls.
Lighthouses.
We never realize how dark the world is outside out electric pods, until it decides to let itself in and make itself at home, the unwanted guest.
There is something oddly, yet deeply disturbing about the light in your fridge not coming on. You're just so used to it. You still flip lightswitches like they're not temporarily dead. Your reflexes are wired for an electric world, and don't shut off with eveything else.
It's always just a tree. I'm always hoping for aliens. Or, at the very least, something a bit more exotic than a tree.
For all these disatvantages, power outages carry an odd romantic quality, like something in a dream you remember, but you don't recollect from where. Maybe it takes us back to our prehistoric days, huddled around the cave fire.
Damn. Nevermind, the lights are back on.
And the fire is out.

May the Force be with you.

Good morning.

This morning's breakfast was just almost just like the last: toaster strudel that never lives up to the picture on the box, grapefruit juice in impossibly cold shiny tin cups, Ziggy Stardust. Although, outside, all was pale and stormy. Thunder boomed in the distance. Everything was covered in a film of mist and fog hung around suspiciously in corners. And the slick and shiny melting jack o' lanterns surveyed their surrounding tiredly with the air of a man who knows the worst is over. Meanwhile, I sat in my room dimly lit only by the sun through the clouds, with my breakfast and glam rock.
Perfect.


[By the way, grapefruit juice is the breakfast juice of champions, which proves, once and for all, that I am the champion, my friend.]



May the Force be with you.

Elevator Effect

The elevator effect is something I came up with [or, rather, named]. It occurs when one is exposed to so much of a particular thing in a day that he/she has no chance of dreaming about it. This happens with me a lot. The particular occurrence that the theory is named for is this one night when I had like, this freakin six-hour Bowiefest, and I dreamed about this crappy elevator. I mean, the elevator smelled bad, and the lights were all yellowed, and there was a leak, and I was terrified of getting stuck the whole time I was in it. [Most of the dream.] It was crappy.

This was a pointless post, so I can't think of a suitable conclusion. Good day.

May the Force be with you.

Lizz is Depressed

I am probably forgotten, but I surely have not forgotten.
It was a lot of fun.
But it's gone now.
All gone.
Doesn't look like it's coming back any time soon either.
I've been depressed for about two months now.
When I'm in a group I'm fine.
Get me alone and I crash and burn.
Sadly, I really don't have much to look back at.
Oh well.
It would probably just make me more sad anyway.
I'm gonna stop being a little emo kid now.
Writing out on paper heals for a while, but later I resume this.
Out.

Closet Excavation Time!

So today... I was bored. So I did what I do every time I'm bored, pretty much. I go search some random part of the house. The most interesting has definitely been the closet between me and my brother's room, so I decided to check that out. That's where my RoboCop hat came from.

Well... I found...
a pair of snakeskin/ leather cowboy boots that apparently were my brother's,
a nice white suit jacket,
a green baseball cap with antlers,
some glittery platform sandals,
HOTWHEELS!,
and a whole box full of gloves and scarves.

That last one was the most interesting. They were all Mom's, and we went through it.

White fingerless gloves.


Black fingerless gloves.

Yeah. Pretty sweet.

May the Force be with you.

Lizz's Fantabulistic Rules of Life

1.) Gym class sucks.

2.) Keep breathing.

3.) Leave the house with clothes on. It's a good thing.

4.) Forget about it. All the good stuff is either too expensive, somebody else has it, or, well... non-existent.

5.) Glitter can be fun.

6.) Tabloid people aren't real. They are mere shadows of the human beings they once were. Ignore them and try not to pity them.

7.) Everybody looks worse without the make-up.

8.) Drew twitches a lot.

9.) Who needs an expensive car and lots of money when you've got... imagination?

10.) Goodwill: good. Expensive stuff: bad.

11.) It's better to live in your own little world than to be miserable in the "real" one.

12.) Politicians are always corrupt.

13.) The world is 98% populated by assholes and creepy people. Don't let them get to you.

14.) Nice people also exist.

15.) If something is good, it can turn bad, and the bad can only get worse.

16.) So be happy while you still can.

17. ) Life's a bitch and then you die. 'Cause if life was a slut, it would be easy.

18.) Your slice of the pie will never be as big as that other guy's slice of the pie, so just shut up, fight the power, screw the pie and eat cake.

19.) Dog food tastes like crap.

20.) By some inexplicable means, everybody knows what Play-Doh tastes like.

21.) Brain freezes are not fun.

22.) Most things you eat taste good until you realize just what you're eating.

23.) Don't fall. Because you know it hurts when you fall. [Overheard in shopping mall, to a little kid.]

24.) Tea gives you fuzzy teeth. [Random words of wisdom from my Uncle Bruce.]

25.) White tea is a baby tea leaf.

26.) Dogs don't know it's not bacon!

27.) Every new day can be the start of something average.

28.) "Fluffy is good."


May the Force be with you.

What is wrong with my mind?: A Post Dedicated to the... Interesting Thoughts of Lizz

Well... I haven't been remembering many dreams lately, odd for me; I usually remember them every night, and they're usually pretty long. What I have retained are bits and pieces, and the only actual fragment that I remember is lying on the floor in my old Social Studies teacher's classroom and some fat chick dissed my earrings. Though I do remember a few odd sentences that went through my head while I was falling asleep... I don't know what made me remember them, but they're certainly strange:
1.) I'm gonna turn pud into a raisinpage! [Yes, raisinpage is all one word.] and
2.) You've gone from rotting legs to Mexican books!
Where does all this shit come from, you know? My subconscious can't be that weird... can it?

Another detail of my happy insanity: my preoccupation with glitter. It's everywhere, I swear! It just follows me in particular. It's usually gold [I stepped on a gold sequined hat awhile back and it was like POOF.]

May the Force be with you.