People. Watching documentaries on 'em, taking photos of 'em, staring at 'em on the tube.
Channeling the look 'the hideous love child of Dylan Moran and Karen O'.
Gloriously stuffing my face because my gran said I looked 'undernourished'. Someone later pointed out that this doesn't neccesarily mean 'thin', which was somewhat deflating.
Buying blue cheese then trying to avoid eating all the blue bits
Yeah, crazy fucker aint I?!
YOU!
..or Pee Wee Herman
Preferably not random bands, no offence, but I never get around to listening to you and therefore adding you, so it's a bit of a waste of time. Mind you, having a shiteous name and a photo of yourselves in negative means that even if you sounded like singing angels I would probably not add you.
I utter the phrase 'but it's good pop music!' far too much... Of Montreal are aces. TV on the Radio rock my socks. Cansei de ser Sexy are grate. So reads my bathroom wall..
Perhaps Kasabian know that I don't really like them anymore because they have done a video dressed up as Revolutionary British Soldiers which is my achilles heel in terms of random turn-ons.
I can do a nifty foxtrot, but usually waggle my hands around like I'm trying to dry my nails. Just realised as this no longer catagorised as 'movies' an already lame joke falls flat on it's arse and rolls around in the gutter. Damn.
Dig! is an excellent documentary, as is The Devil and Daniel Johnson. Real life is so much more interesting and unpredictable than most fiction films.
and Pingu.
The Line of Beauty is raather good, but I tried to read Molloy by Samuel Beckett and it made my eyes go crossed so I stopped and returned it to the library with the lofty poise of one who has read, understood and liked it. I am low.
I generally prefer the mad women who kill heroes such as Medea and Clytemnestra.
Tommy the Clown