Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first?

Am sitting here annoying my ex-girlfriend by chatting to her while I catch up on blogs and watch Chasing Amy. Amazingly, Chasing Amy still holds up over a decade later. Sure, we all know the story now, so there are no surprises. It's littered with Kevin Smith's incredibly talky dialogue (love it or hate it). However it remains a really intimate little tale about the complications of two people experiencing love. While I would hardly place Smith in the category of auteur. I will give him a round of applause for the intimacy created in this film where many of the shots are quite tight and draw the audience that bit further into the entanglement between Holden and Alyssa.

It's been a strange week. Having experienced the War on Ants and The Long Cockroach March, I've now had to contend with the guerrilla tactics of mosquitoes. Resorting to the insect equivalent of a Missile Defense Shield in the form of Liquid Electric Repeller, I had my first decent night's sleep in five days last night.

Am also having weird and vivid dreams again. There's a point at which I'll have to stop saying again and just accept that I now have weird dreams. I've witnessed murders and been tortured this week alone. One might blame this on what I've been consuming this week, but violent content really hasn't been much a part of it. Unless you count a re-telling of the 1970 Collingwood-Carlton Grand Final.

Should it be bed time now..?

The evil horde

Had a nightmare last night. Grotesque versions of the Evil Horde (yes, of She-Ra fame) were mooching around creeping me out. And then the TV told me that my lack of sympathy for its plight was going to mean dire consequences. It was only when the TV spoke to me that I had the good sense to pull myself out of the dream.

Oh yes, and my apartment is kind of scary in a post-nightmare state.

Changi here I come

I'm a disgusting tech whore who is taking home more electrical devices than I am clothes. I don't know if I should be whipped or worshipped.

I dreamt I was in a Singaporean prison the other night. In case it is news to anyone, bad things happen to handsome young men in jails. I can't remember what I was in for. Whatever it was, it was a setup. I was to be incarcerated for one year and receive 50 strokes of the cane. Naturally they were dolling them out at six per day so that I would survive the experience. I was taken to a dungeonesque room for the whipping. To add insult to injury it was a particularly cute Chinese girl administering the punishment. She said she was sorry for this, to turn over and face down. I awoke to the Chinese girl's face asking if I was ok. I asked when the caning would begin. She said she'd already given all six and that I had passed out somewhere between the first and the second stroke.

The less said about the shower scene the better, but I do have to comment on what I was thinking throughout the dream. Walking back and forth in my cell during the first couple of days I found myself praying that they had a library and that I could use it. I could leave jail a genius!!

Sigh... if only.