When you build a brand around iron fisted control of your image, it must be absolutely heartrending to see your carefully cultivated bullshit fucked up by some dipshit from a small computer shop who happens to have a bit of chalk handy.
Mothra!
I was visited in the night by a quiet little friend.
Little is relative, of course, and this size of moth is only really little when being compared to an albatross. So, really friggin’ huge for a moth – about as wide as the palm of my hand, but she looked even larger because of the scary part.
Wait, scary part?
Well, no of course not, this is a moth we’re talking about. So let’s call it the odd part instead: her legs. It looked not entirely unlike a spider using a moth as a glider.
If spiders ever figure that out… Let’s just say I might have to start killing them. Or maybe myself. Whatever happens though – when the spiders start flying? The killing begins.
Don’t shit your pants.
A survival horror game. (Flash required.)
Pay peanuts, get monkeys.
As we’ve already established thanks to our mates at the NZ Herald, journalism in this country is populated – certainly at the bottom end – by the barely literate. It’s possible that it was an honest typo, but my heart-wrenching fear is that the staffer had to resort to spelling Monet phonetically.
The third option is that our beloved copywriter has delivered a particularly on-the-nose jab at the big-money nature of The Art Industry. I’ll leave it to you, gentle reader, to decide how much credence I give this possibility.
An unexpected visitor
Why she was inside I don’t know, she seemed to be enjoying flying highspeed orbits around the light in the living room, but as fun as it might have been for a little while, I can’t imagine it would stay amusing.
And I was so looking forward to it…
Yeah, ok, I’ll be back in a couple of hours to see your precious post-roll advertisement. I mean, I’m sure it was going to be a highlight of my afternoon, right?
In the Winter Gardens
But what kind of flower is it?
Wigglier than expected.
I usually expect museums to be full of dead things and dry things and dead dry things, so to stumble on a pair of happy little lizards basking in their carefully groomed bush, was a happy little discovery.
Street art.
He might look like a stencil, but he’s actually a pasteup – which he makes up for by being really huge, maybe 150cm high. Lives at the corner of Park & Carlton Gore Rds, on a boarded over window of an old closed down service station.
Unintended delight.
I met a lovely girl in a bar last night.