Hey, you know that’s up to 4 points on your driv…
Uh, sorry.
What was I just saying?
iambored
Monthly Archives: September 2010
This week at the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts in New York, the original cast of The Breakfast Club (without Emilio Estevez) reunited for a special 25th anniversary screening of John Hughes’s cult classic. Actually, they’re all holding together fairly well. Apart from Judd Nelson. Who looks a bit like Sam Smyth now.
And here.
Video here.
[*unless, that is, you’re too young to have seen the movie first time round. In which case, move on. There’s more dog videos coming up. Here, you dropped your Milky Bar.]
jezebel
One of a range of porcelain pistols from artist Yvonne Lee Schultz. Based on the Walther PPK used by James Bond and its modern counterpart, the P99.
Now, have another scone. Don’t make granny pop a cap in yo’ ass.
Back at 9am.
foundshit
Recently born at Longleat Safari Park in Wiltshire: twin Patagonian Mara. Related to guinea-pigs, the adults grow to about 45cm and can leap 2 metres straight up into the air.
Years from now, they will interbreed with pit-bulls and thereby inherit the Earth.
zooborns
But only chose to sack him today.
Because of yesterday’s leaked report.
Of an incident he knew about two months ago.
Because he was there.
Are we missing something here?
Children Used To Target Off Licences And Pubs (RTE.ie)
School Principal: “Quiet everyone, the minister is about to speak.”
Ahern: “You fellas have everything ahead of you. Don’t let yourselves get into this state.”
[plays excerpt from recent Morning Ireland interview]
Pupil: “Jesus Christ!”
Ahern: “See me after class.”
(Pete Burns, Cher and Jennifer ‘the Lamprey’ Rush)
Unimpressed with the ‘tameness’ of yesterday’s Session Magazine before-and-after plastic surgery post, FOB Northsider turned us on to a site called Awful Plastic Surgery.
A one-stop archive of dysmorphia, self-delusion and wasted cash.
It’s wonderful.
Four days later this typo (Broadsheet passim) is still on the IT website. Which also happens, at time of writing, to not have heard about Vinnie Doyle’s passing. Ho hum.