Friday , October 2, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: "Betty Davis" by Betty Davis
Being single sucks, but does being single suck? Yes. But not as much as I thought it did!
I recently came to life-altering conclusion that, if I take the emphasis off my (non-existent) "dude relationships" and place it upon my (totally stellar) "babe relationships," I can be the happiest person in the world. So I did- and I am! I may've had a Dude-Free '09 thus far, but I've also had the most gloriously babe-centric year of my life. I have the most seriously solid coterie of hot babe BFFs in check; it really barfs me out that I spent nine months of this year entirely devaluing what a gift that is. Oh, woe is me! Such shit breaks that I don't have some Bonerface begging me for a handjob when all I want to be doing is writing down awesome words or shit-talking Bonerfaces with my girlfriends over twelve carafes of sangria. First Great Motto of October 2009: I AM NO MAN'S LAURA JANE!
As far as I'm concerned, Betty Davis by Betty Davis should be required listening for every babe in the world, even Normie Bitches. Especially Normie Bitches! Normie Bitches have a lot more to learn from Betty Davis than I do. Betty Davis (1973) is a feminist Magnum Opus, both empowered and empowering. It's slutty and fierce, but Betty's ferocity is compounded- though never dulled- by insight, acuity and elegance. This record is a celebration of the self, and- Lucky me! Lucky you! Lucky Betty Davis!- the self is a BABE. If I were a dude, and I listened to Betty Davis, I'd probably think, "Wow, I really drew the short end of the stick in the whole 'Having a Gender' department."
Seriously- Betty Davis is so badass, she makes John Lennon look like Paul McCartney.
(Click the jump for three songs that will CHANGE YOUR LIFE!)
+ Continue reading "Laura Jane's Addiction: "Betty Davis" by Betty Davis"
Monday , July 27, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: Mad Men-ing The Universe; Also: Mad Men
Hi! Oh My God! Wow! Today is the best day of my entire life! I LOVE MAD MEN, and everyone in the world loves Mad Men with me! Even the Fiery Furnaces love Mad Men! Yowza! The only people who don't love Mad Men are Kat "Bad Call on Not Watching Mad Men" Asharya and Elizabeth "Dumb Eyes" Barker of nogoodforme.com! Weird!
Anyway! Today I discovered that you can Mad Men Yourself! It is the best thing that has happened to the Internet since Twitter. So much fun! I love Mad Men! I love Don Draper! He is so hot! I love Salvatore "Sal" Romano! He makes a mean tomato sauce! I love Kenneth "Kenny/Ken" Cosgrove! He is so talented at writing short stories! And he's hot too, kind of! Joan Holloway is my hero! Peggy Olsen is my other hero! And who doesn't love to hate Peter Campbell!?!? I just want to MAD MEN THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!!
But I won't. Instead, here is what I did do:
I. I MAD MEN-NED ELIZABETH BARKER:
Check out Elizabeth "Bringing Sexy Back" Barker acing her presentation about the Maidenform account! Elizabeth Barker is totally a Marilyn.
II. I MAD MEN-NED MYSELF:
In the end, Laura Jane was unable to resist the urge to make a "Don Draper totally has a boner over me" joke. There it went. The sparks are flying! Can't you just cut the sexual tension with a knife?!?!?!
III. I MAD MEN-NED JOHN LENNON:
Has it occurred to anyone else that, at some point, it is going to become 1964 on Mad Men? How will Beatlemania hit Sterling Cooper?!?!?! Who will Peggy Olsen's favourite Beatle be?!?!?!? Paul? George? Ringo? JOHN LENNON!?!?!
IN CONCLUSION: Do you love Mad Men? Let's talk about it! In the "Comments" section of this entry! It'll be gangbusters!
Tags: Don Draper, Joan Holloway, John Lennon, Kenneth Cosgrove, Laura Jane Faulds, Liz Barker, Mad Men, Mad Men-ing others, My Boring Life, Peggy Olsen, Peter Campbell, Salvatore Romano, The Fiery Furnaces
Thursday , July 2, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: The Great Wolf Lodge, it seems
Note: Niagara "Laura Jane" Falls refers to how, for approx. one week when I was in second grade, some long-forgotten dipshit ruined my good vibes by trying to get the mean nickname "Niagara Faulds" to catch on, but it never did, because it is neither mean nor funny.
I have been aching to check out the Great Wolf Lodge for about six months now. The "GWL," located in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada, is the indoor water park of my, or anybody's, dreams. There is an ad for it in the eighty-billion mile long underground pathway between the Northbound and Eastbound trains in the Spadina subway station. It taunts you as you traipse, with its idyllic imagery of ugly seven-year-olds freaking out with stokeditude inside inner tubes and windy slides.
Two evenings ago, I had the pleasure of watching a television commercial for the Great Wolf Lodge. It worked on me. As of two evenings ago, my only goal in life is to visit the Great Wolf Lodge- STAT, ASAP, PDQ, or any of the above. Are you one of my best friends? Are you a dude who is secretly in love with me? Are you my Mother or Father? If you answered "yes" to any of the above, I highly recommend that, this July, you make all my dreams come true and whisk me away to the Great Wolf Lodge.
HERE IS WHAT WE WILL DO THERE:
1. DRINK STRAWBERRY DAIQUIRIS THE SIZE OF OUR HEADS: If there is one thing about gaudy resorts you can always bank on, it is that you will be able to get your dirty paws all over sugary slushy girl-drinks served in tropically-embellished neon plastic cups. Is there anything in this life more thrilling than the mixing of waterslides and extreme drunkenness?
2. RIDE THE "CANADA VORTEX": The Vortex is the twisty stripey slide. It looks terrifying, because I don't like being in enclosed spaces, but I'm sure if I'd just drunked thirteen Texas-sized mango-ritas, it would just seem relaxing or something.
3. CHILLAX IN THE "CRYSTAL RIVER": Remember how I said my optimal state of existence is walking around listening to headphones, and then I changed my mind and said that my optimal state of existence is having sex with George Harrison? I lied, twice. My optimal state of existence is "let[ting] the current sweep [me] along the endless, winding 500,000 litre lazy [Crystal] river." It's not really endless, is it? False advertising.
4. ENJOY THE LONG & WINDING "NIAGARA RAPIDS RUN": Do you ever think about how you would most ideally like to die? I do, constantly. I've decided that "drunken waterslide accident" is my personal preference; way better than "hanging myself and making a video of it and getting Emily Richmond to edit it and put it on Youtube and then making Liz Barker post it to nogoodforme," which is what I may be forced to do if I don't make it out to GWL this summer. Eek!
PS: Have you ever been to the Great Wolf Lodge?!? If yes, please tell me everything!
Tuesday , June 16, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: EPIC DATES
As much as I hate rules, which I most definitely do, I love non-rules. I have explained the Laura Jane-coined concept of "non-rules" on nogoodforme.com before, but you probably forget it by now, so I will tell you again: "Non-rules" are things like "Sleep" or "Listen to the Beatles" or "Walk to the store and buy shampoo because you are out of it," that you would do anyway. So they are rules in some ways, because you have to do them, but they are also rules in no way, because there is no pressure on them, unless you are insane. I used to be, but not anymore.
My new favourite "non-rule" is: TAKE YOURSELF OUT ON AN EPIC DATE ONCE A WEEK, EVERY WEEK.. Instating my Epic Date Non-Policy is the smartest thing I ever did for myself. Whoever you are, you need to start taking yourself out on Epic Dates! I used to think that I was unlucky for being single, but then one morning I woke up and said "Tough Toblerone, Laura Jane! No dude could ever treat you as good as you treat yourself."
Boyfriends never know what you want. It's their "thing." But I know exactly what I want, and once a week, I give it to myself. I leave my cell phone at home, drink two glasses of Yellow Tail Rose, and then set out on a Dream Date Adventure with the Dude of my Dreams. Her name's Laura Jane, and I treat her like a lady. I treat her like the Princess of Cups, the Jack of Spades, like how she deserves to be treated. Dating Laura Jane is the lark of my life. In July, I'm taking her out to a baseball game. I'm going to buy her a beer, in a plastic cup.
Here is a round-up of what all my Epic Dates have been like so far:
EPIC DATE #1 (May 20th, 2009): Epic Date #1 happened happenstancickally, just like all the best things in life. It was the first sweaty-hot day of Summer '09, so I was very happy. All I wanted to do that evening was go out and party hearty, but everybody else was too busy being a lazy Normie to join me. That's when I realized that I could party hearty on my own! As anybody who's ever hung out with me can attest to, nobody's more fun to party with than Laura Jane Faulds. On Epic Date #1, I ate Panang Curry and drank a Bloody Mary at Thai Basil, which is good Thai food. I wrote almost all of this thing about dudes and Ray Davies. I ran around Toronto in my skull shorts and Short Stop t-shirt, going from bar to bar, guzzlin' BMs, writing feverishly, listening to the Kinks, and eavesdropping on some Normies sitting next to me on the Supermarket patio describe the season finale of House in great detail, which was convenient, since I'd missed it. On my way home, I found a sort-of broken coffee table on the street, and carried it home, because I was drunk. Then I used a gold pen to cross out my "Lennon" and "McCartney" tattoos, and wrote either of my BFF's hyphenated last names overtop of them, and photographed myself showing them off, sitting on my new coffee table.
EPIC DATE #2 (May 26th, 2009): The key-est principle of Epic Dating Myself is that I like to get really fucking drunk on them. I get drunker on Epic Dates than I do on 90% of nights when I Go Out For Real. This is probably because my awesome vibe and energy are so intoxicating! Also, because I drink a metric fuck-ton of alcohol. On Epic Date #2, I got my drink on early, wore my Snoopy t-shirt, and took myself out for fancy dinner at Cafe 668, one of my favourite restaurants in Toronto. I ordered the black pepper fake beef, and then doused it in Sriracha, and it was really just too spicy and I spent most of my meal crying, but it was still fine. Over the course of Epic Date #2, I wrote 100% of my premiere The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles installment, so I felt awesome about that. I drank two Bloody Marys at the Lakeview Lunch, which is my favourite Bloody Marys Drinking Locaysh in all Toronto. I came home and smoked weed and had dysmorphia and Twittered inanely and then took pictures of myself in my bathtub and conquered dysmorphia.
EPIC DATE #3 (June 2nd, 2009): Epic Date #3 was kind of crappy, because I'm stupid, and tried too hard to have it mimic the exact format of Epic Dates #1 and #2. In doing so, I made Epic Date #3 about following rules, and rules are the hugest buzzkill of all life, but at least it reinforced to me the foolishness of rule-following. I ate a delicious dinner at Vegetarian Haven, but sadly can never go back there, because one of the waitresses is a bitch and I am punishing her. I saw a dead pigeon on the street and a lot of drunk homeless people, thought about Ringo Starr, drank two mind-blowingly good Bloody Marys at my second-fave Bloody Marys Drinking Locaysh in all Toronto, the Free Times Cafe, and wrote a bunch of this. I drank a glass of white wine at Ronnies Local 069, where I devoted way too much energy to making goo-goo eyes at a dude wearing a wedding ring. I came home, drunk-dialed Emily Richmond, and then had really lame insomnia for no reason.
EPIC DATE #4 (June 9th, 2009): I went to a creepy pub on Bloor Street West that I never knew the name of. I drank a good Bloody Mary. I like to have a drink before I eat because I get hungrier, and always end up eating more and having really positive eating experiences that are in no way plagued with guilt. I had Ghazale take-out, went home, drank a bottle of wine almost, changed my outfit fifteen times, listened to "Monkberry Moon Delight," picked a lot of flowers, and wrote Liz Barker a letter at the Lakeview Lunch (two Bloody Marys; see what I mean about getting REALLY drunk?) While walking home, I encountered a park, so I swang on a swingset while listening to "Maggie's Farm" by Bob Dylan, and shouted along to "THEY SAY SING WHILE YOU SLAVE BUT I JUST GET BORED." What a treat that must have been for all the people asleep in their beds!
EPIC DATE #5 (June 15th, 2009): Epic Date #5 was last night. It was one of the best nights of my entire life. First of all, it was impromptu. Epic Date #5 was supposed to be tonight, but then I remembered how much rules suck, so I changed it. I was very happy about this. I downloaded the entirety of I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces, which Thrill Jockey Records sent to nogoodforme.com because we are famous and important. I wore a too-short dress and walked to Utopia and got an order of coleslaw and an order of fries. I came home and listened to I'm Going Away while eating fries and it was the most glorious half-hour of my life. I made a video of myself loving french fries:
Then I saw a white cat, which is John Lennon's spirit animal, and walked to Ryan's house so that I could borrow his Discman and listen to I'm Going Away while walking around. On the way, I drunk-dialed everybody in the world that I love. I got the Discman, bought a cow-print lighter, drank a Bloody Mary at good old Squirly's, and then walked around listening to I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces, my favourite Fiery Furnaces album, one of my All-Time Top 5. It is perfect to me. I got folked up.
Thanks for writing me an entire album full of Beatles songs, Matthew Friedberger.
My next Epic Date is going to be an EPIC BIRTH-DATE; I'm sure you can imagine how stoked for that one I am!
My homework for everybody reading this is to take yourself out on an Epic Date ASAP, and then tell us all about it!
Tags: alcoholism, Bloody Marys, dating myself, epic dates, french fries, Friedberger, I love myself, Laura Jane Faulds, Laura Jane's Addiction, summer, Summer 2009, Summer Almanyac, The Fiery Furnaces, Toronto
Tuesday , June 9, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: Bloody Marys, THE OFFICIAL DRINK OF SUMMER 2009
Is there any method of demarcating the passage of time more deliciously effective than the drinking of alcoholic beverages? "Obviously not," posits "Bloody" Laura Jane Faulds of nobloodforme.com. I'm sure you all remember that the official drink of Boring, Wussy Summer 2008 was The White Wine Spritzer. I will always dig a nice WWS when the occasion calls for it, but it's kind of blowing my mind that I was once stupid enough to pick such a boring drink to be the Official Drink of an Entire Summer. However, in the words of Alanis Morrissette, "You live, you learn." In the words of Laura Jane Faulds, "You get drunk, you also sometimes learn."
I'm sure you have all been tearing every hair out of your head, anticipating what on God's Green (or, Blood Red) Earth could be the Official Drink of Summer 2009?!?!?! Well, my puppies, it is... The Bloody Mary! Bloody Marys are classy, classic, badass, sexy, badass-ly sexy, slightly Satanic (Satanism of course being the nogoodforme.com-endorsed Official Belief System of Summer 2009), delicious, and totally nutritious! Not only do you get vodka, but you also get, like, vegetables and shit!
The stupidest crap about living in lame bloody Canada is that we have a lame official drink called the Bloody Caesar, which is a Mary made with "Mott's Clamato"- tomato juice and clam juice mixed together. Some particularly lame bars only serve Caesars, which sucks if you're vegan, or have taste buds. But, I must confess: a few nights ago, I was crazy-wasted and desperate for a Bloody Mary, so pathetically broke veganism in the name of drinking 234723847239842 Bloody Caesars. Bad call, Laura Jane.
The morning after Bloody Caesars night, I woke up with the worst hangover of my entire (post-college) life. The thought of ever drinking a Bloody Mary again made me want to shudder, and puke, and then I literally did both. That was fun. I was really angry at myself for breaking veganism and ruining the Official Drink of Summer 2009 for everybody, but, hey- that was Friday, a veritable lifetime ago! It is now Tuesday, and all I want in the world is to drink a Bloody Mary tonight! Hooray!
Bloody Caesars aside, I'm also stoked to try out some cool-sounding Bloody Mary variations: the Bloody Maria (The "Vincent Gallo of Cocktails", according to Bloody Liz Barker of nogoodforme.com), the Highland Mary, which features Scotch whiskey and a rosemary kick, the infamously-awesome Spicy Bloody Mary from my semi-boyfriend Iron Chef Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill, and, last but not least:
THE BLOODY LAURA JANE: The Bloody Laura Jane calls for Sriracha instead of Tabasco, a 1/2 avocado instead of a celery stick/pickle (or maybe a 1/2 avocado and a pickle, actually), is served in a Big Gulp cup, and comes with a complimentary 45 of "Randy Scouse Git" by the Monkees, to be used as a coaster.
Tags: alcohol, alcoholism, avocados, Big Gulps, blood, Bloody Marias are the Vincent Gallo of cocktails, Bloody Marys, Iron Chef Bobby Flay, Laura Jane's Addiction, nutrition, Satanism, Sriracha, Summer 2009, summertime, The Monkees, the night Laura broke veganism to get drunk, The Official Drink of 2009
Tuesday , June 2, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: Notebooks, Notebooking, Self-Indulgence
I was under the impression that regular readers of nogoodforme.com are hip to every dimension of my existence (except for business that involves other people, since, like, I respect their privacy and shit). I am a big fan of "airing my dirty laundry in public"- I'm like an exhibitionist, only with my SOUL. A few days ago, howevs, I realized that you poor puppies are naive to the most crucial aspect of my whole entire self! Me! All of me! From tip to toe! Laura!
Notebooks. My notebooks are my babies, my progeny, an extension of myself. They are my phantom arm. If I ever lost a notebook, it would destroy me, but I would never lose a notebook, because I always check. I take care of myself. I take care of my notebooks, my fam.
I have notebooked like crazy since I was a kid. I do it because a) I do it, b) I'm used to it, c) it's something to do, and d) I never want to lose touch with the physical, visceral act of writing. When you write with a pen and not a keyboard, you write slowly, and so are forced to really consider your words, to write carefully and decisively.
Right now, my notebook is the one in the upper left-hand corner of the image below, with Ray Davies and a ripped-up Gunta Stolzl print-out and "LSD" with a pound sign for the L and a $ for the S. I started it one and a half weeks ago. By the end of today, it will be over. It has few pages, and they are made of thick good sketchbook paper, so it looks deceptively bigger than it is. Also, I wrote a lot these past eleven days. This all sucks so bad! This notebook was one of my favourite notebooks of my entire life, and I consider it a whopper of a tragedy that we will have to part ways so soon. Ours was a brief but passionate love affair- oh, Ray Davies Notebook, I hardly knew ye!
This post is an Ode to My Notebooks. Seen above is a composite image of all the best ones I've ever had. I will now say a few words about them:
TOP ROW: At left is the heartbreaker of the Ray Davies one I use now. Next to it, the black and white Mead, is a relic from my being sixteen. The image at bottom right is of Cecily Brown at some snooty party. You can see that I pasted in a pale pink ribbon to use as a page-marker, which is a cute way to be smart. Trevor and Laura's Team Notebook is the notebook my ex-boyfriend and I kept together when we first fell in love, as babies. It's classy; I would never apply such restraint to a notebook of my own. I like FLASH. Next up, Laura Jane with A Billion Hearts, dates back to my sophomore year of college. I manically doodled the hearts (they are also on the back cover) while hyped on Adderall in "Small Business Enterprises" class. I got an A in "Small Business Enterprises." LBJFK lasted me all of last summer. It features a picture of Robert F. Kennedy, and my spirit animal. It was a good, solid notebook of mine, but dragged on for eternity, so I grew to resent it a bit.
BOTTOM ROW: The Goat's Head notebook belonged to Spirit Animal House-era Laura. It says "SAVE LAURA JANE- Whoopsies! I mean, LAURA JANE SAVES," which is the exact type of joke in this world that I think is funny. Moon the Loon is from last September and October, when my Fashion Concept/Life Concept was "Keith Moon's Girl Twin Sister." The Muppet Babies picture is ripped out of a colouring book from when I was a babe, so the cover was actually a collabo enterprise between 23-year-old Laura and 3-year-old Laura. The brown Beatles-y one is the one I had last winter, when I was in LA, so it will always remind me of that. The Beatles pic is from a 1964 Beatles mag, it is captioned with Ed Sullivan saying "Do you think if I practiced really hard, I could play like you?" which ties into how I Letrasetted "IT AS IT IS, AND AS IT ISN'T, IT AIN'T" underneath. I generally like to Letraset life lessons I should be mindful of onto my notebook covers, because I look at them constantly, and might as well be reminded of handy adages while I'm at it. The same principle can be seen on the cover of Restrain & Persist, which is the one that precedes Ray Davies/LSD. I ripped the dictionary-looking pages out of a book called "20,000 Words"; they are the head pages of the "L," "J," and "F" sections. Get it????
Every time I get a new notebook, I undergo a laborious process wherein I read through my entire old notebook, and painstakingly copy down all pertinent information into my new notebook. It is called "Notebook Switcheroo," and has been for as long as I can remember. It's weird how major of words these are to In-My-Head-Laura, but, before right now, I don't think I've ever said them aloud. "Notebook Switcheroo" is highly symbolic for me- it's always indicative of my beginning a new chapter in life. Perhaps this is why I am so frustrated about my Ray Davies notebook living so fast and hard. I went through Notebook Switcheroo a mere week-and-a-half ago, I really have not grown very much as a person since then! Oh well--
HAPPY NOTEBOOK SWITCHEROO DAY, LAURA JANE!
Tags: airing my dirty laundry in public, Ed Sullivan, getting to know us better, Keith Moon as spirit animal, Laura Jane Faulds, Laura Loves The Beatles, Muppet Babies, Notebook Switcheroo, Raymond Douglas Davies, writer dames, writers, writing
Sunday , May 31, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: Sunglasses, Disassociation, Oliver Goldsmith Vintage
La vie et moi, nous combattons comme freres.
I love life; I hate life. Life loves me; life treats me like I'm its dirty little bitch. I'm not your bitch, life! Get a grip on your "abusing Laura Jane" problem. It hurts people, namely ("scilicet") me. Which is why I like disassociation.
The other day, I was telling one of my roommates about my never-ending goal: to get drunk alone at my Dad's apartment, go out for a ruse-y "headphones walk" at approx. midnight AM, walk down along The Esplanade to the painted-purple punk house where all the babes live, self-assuredly introduce myself to the 187567858 hot punk dudes getting drunk on the patio, then spend the remainder of my evening pounding cans of PBR and "talking in code" with them. My roommate told me not to wear headphones before doing this, because wearing headphones forces you to disassociate, and might hinder one's ability to interact with sexy babes. I agreed that wearing headphones is disassociative, but the difference between her and I is that existing in my optimal disassociative state (wearing headphones and sunglasses) is a given- in my life, there is no walking anywhere without headphones & sunglasses, or one of them at least.
I never used to wear sunglasses, but now that I've figured out how important disassociation is to my happiness, I always wear sunglasses. That way, when life is in the mood to be an asshole to me, I remain unmoved and unaffected. I run through life with shields over my eyes and ears; who the Helter Skelter cares? When I want to talk to hot punk babes, all I have to do is take them off.
Seen above are all the pairs of sunglasses I own. They are all from H&M. I don't really like or care about any of them. My sunglasses thing has almost nothing to do with fashion, and almost everything to do with my immense distaste for existence. But since sunglasses have recently become an integral component in my quest towards sanity, I should probably invest in some sunglasses that don't totally suck. I was looking at Chloe and Tom Ford ones the other day; they were all pretty much lame. But then I found out about Oliver Goldsmith (apparently the most important/influential sunglasses designer of all time?), came across his vintage sunglasses archives, and fell in love like I never thought I could, with sunglasses or anything. I would die for them!!!!!
2. "The Ogle", 1968 (Ooooh! Like David Bowie! If David Bowie were a scuba-diver!)
3. "The Rimini," 1964 (For days when I want to pretend that I am not a scrappy goof; such days occur approx. 3 out of 365 days of the year)
4. "The Oops," 1973 (These are just straight-up hot. Why doesn't H&M make sunglasses that look more like The Oops?)
5. "Tennis Rackets," 1950 (Jibe really amazingly with my Summer 09 Fashion Concept, to be revealed in approx. 12 days; also, whoa, really forward-thinking for nineteen-freaking-fifty)
6. "The 'Love Me'", 1979 (Am particularly taken with the "Love Me," since they can help me achieve my dream of tapping into the intense awesomeness of my new Style Icon, the purple-haired seven-year-old dude-baby I saw on the street riding a longboard and wearing heart-shaped sunnies earlier today.)
Tags: disassociation, hot dudes, if David Bowie were a scuba-diver, Laura Jane's Addiction, life & I's complex relationship, Oliver Goldsmith, PBR, sunglasses, tennis rackets, The Spice Girls, vintage
Monday , May 25, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: Skandar Keynes as Edmund Pevensie
Dudes age really fast, like in between Narnia movies, if they are Skandar Keynes. When I first saw The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (In theatres, no less! Just like Andy Samberg!), I was rather taken by Keynes' performance as Edmund Pevensie, the only member of the Pevensie clan who isn't a simpering drag. Skandar was thirteen at the time, which means that I wasn't allowed to have a crush on him. Instead, I focused on how he looked like my "dream son" and/or a baby Paul McCartney. However, In Prince Caspian (which, by the way, totally sucks and is boring), he is seventeen, and kind of a babe:
Based on his current track record, we can hypothesize that Skandar Keynes will get incrementally hotter and hotter, and become less and less of Laura Jane Jailbait, in every forthcoming Narnia film. Thanks to Skandar Keynes, I am now hella stoked for The Voyage of the Dawntreader's 2010 release.
SOME FUN FACTS ABOUT SKANDAR:
+ His full name is "Skandar Amin Casper Keynes," which is fly.
+ He can ride a horse.
+ His father is the great-nephew of famed economist John Maynard Keynes.
+ Charles Darwin is his great-great-great-grandfather.
+ He's totally badass (or "mischievous," as they say in WWII-era Great Britain), just like Edmund! According to himself, at least: "Of course, [Edmund]'s a lot like me. He is the tyrant of the family, which I am, and, yep, he succumbs to temptation very easily. Edmund is the black sheep of the family." HOT!!!!!
+ On September 5th, Skandar is turning eighteen. Perhaps I should start a countdown to his 18th birthday like creepy pervs did with the Olsen twins?!?!?
Tags: Charles Darwin, creepy pervs, Edmund Pevensie, jailbait, John Maynard Keynes, Laura Jane's Addiction, live blogging, Paul McCartney, Prince Caspian, Skandar Keynes, The Chronicles of Narnia, the Olsen twins
Sunday , May 17, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: My New Little Camel Pal
Says Wikipedia, of camels:
"Camels are your bros! Camels are the sweetest bros you will ever know, especially when they are wee and stuffed with basmati rice. Camels, Camels, Camels! They are the best even-toed ungulate of all. Giraffes are jerks, especially Geoffrey the Giraffe. He is full of shit. He was recently re-branded, and sucks even more than he initially did, when celebrity Cancemini Laura Jane Faulds of nogoodforme.com was a tot, and she was terrified of him. Ignore giraffes at all costs, though deer are cool. But always go for the camel option, if it's available. They are the Brahms Lullaby of the Animal Kingdom."
Weird Wikipedia entry, right? I know! Cripes. Mr. Wikipedia must have been on drugs when he wrote that. But it is so true, so true, so true. I bought my new camel on Friday. I was running insanely behind schedule, and was literally running, like a racer. But then I spotted my camel out of the corner of my eye on a metal fold-up table in Kensington Market, and decided that the damage was done- there was at that point nothing I could do to make myself not be late, so I figured I might as well be one extra minute later, in the name of acquiring New Wee Camel.
He cost $1 CAD. Best dollar I ever spent.
PS: He also comes in navy blue.
by Laurain Laura Jane's Addiction
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Thursday , May 14, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: "The Member of the Wedding" by Carson McCullers The Member of the Wedding by Carson McCullers is my favourite novel of all-time, even though it is not a novel. It's a novella. The Member of the Wedding is the story of a scrappy 12-year-old gingerette named Frankie "F. Jasmine" Addams. Frankie is an exact representation of my 12-year-old self, except for that she is from the Deep South instead of the Great White North, and is not named Laura. Frankie is obsessively stoked on the idea of attending her big brother's upcoming wedding, and fancies that she will run away to Alaska with the bride and groom after the ceremony. The majority of the book takes place during the days leading up to the wedding, as Frankie wanders around her small Southern town, sweaty nail-clipped hair plastered to the back of her neck, sucking down bottles of Nehi like a regular Hawkeye Pierce, scarfing down corn pone, and making harsh fun of her dweeby next door neighbour John Henry. Importantly, The Member of the Wedding is Southern Gothic as all get out, and there is nothing in the world I love more than Southern Gothic, except maybe for some solid Kinks-brand Suburban English Gothic. But really, The Member of the Wedding is a complex and emotive ballad written to one's first taste of the acrid truth that, in life, nothing unfolds the way you wanted it to. It stunningly captures the emotional neutrality that hits like a lame punch to the stomach when you finally see how things really are and realize that everything you thought to be true yesterday was just a lie you constructed to stave off malaise. And you are bummed out by this, but mostly are too exhausted to care. Copies of The Member of the Wedding are a dime a dozen (well, mostly they are one dollar) at every used bookstore on the planet, which serves as further proof that people are fucking idiots and I hate them. I snatch up copies of TMotW whenever I find them, and then I give them to people as presents. I always like to have a big stash of them stacked up in my bedroom. That way, when I have guests over, I can be the hostess with the mostess and gift them with a free book. Seen above is an image of the four hottest copies of The Member of the Wedding I currently have in my trusty pile of MotWs; however, the two middle editions are the prized possessions of my entire life, and I will never give them to anybody. Except maybe I'd give the green one to Ray Davies. Maybe.
Thursday , May 14, 2009
Laura Jane's Addiction: "The Member of the Wedding" by Carson McCullers
The Member of the Wedding by Carson McCullers is my favourite novel of all-time, even though it is not a novel. It's a novella.
The Member of the Wedding is the story of a scrappy 12-year-old gingerette named Frankie "F. Jasmine" Addams. Frankie is an exact representation of my 12-year-old self, except for that she is from the Deep South instead of the Great White North, and is not named Laura. Frankie is obsessively stoked on the idea of attending her big brother's upcoming wedding, and fancies that she will run away to Alaska with the bride and groom after the ceremony. The majority of the book takes place during the days leading up to the wedding, as Frankie wanders around her small Southern town, sweaty nail-clipped hair plastered to the back of her neck, sucking down bottles of Nehi like a regular Hawkeye Pierce, scarfing down corn pone, and making harsh fun of her dweeby next door neighbour John Henry. Importantly, The Member of the Wedding is Southern Gothic as all get out, and there is nothing in the world I love more than Southern Gothic, except maybe for some solid Kinks-brand Suburban English Gothic.
But really, The Member of the Wedding is a complex and emotive ballad written to one's first taste of the acrid truth that, in life, nothing unfolds the way you wanted it to. It stunningly captures the emotional neutrality that hits like a lame punch to the stomach when you finally see how things really are and realize that everything you thought to be true yesterday was just a lie you constructed to stave off malaise. And you are bummed out by this, but mostly are too exhausted to care.
Copies of The Member of the Wedding are a dime a dozen (well, mostly they are one dollar) at every used bookstore on the planet, which serves as further proof that people are fucking idiots and I hate them. I snatch up copies of TMotW whenever I find them, and then I give them to people as presents. I always like to have a big stash of them stacked up in my bedroom. That way, when I have guests over, I can be the hostess with the mostess and gift them with a free book.
Seen above is an image of the four hottest copies of The Member of the Wedding I currently have in my trusty pile of MotWs; however, the two middle editions are the prized possessions of my entire life, and I will never give them to anybody. Except maybe I'd give the green one to Ray Davies. Maybe.
Tags: books, Carson McCullers, F. Jasmine Addams, Laura Jane's Addiction, Laura loves The Kinks, Ray Davies, Ray Davies is a genius, Raymond Douglas Davies, Southern Gothic, summertime, The Member of the Wedding