Luke
Gossip Girl is one of those shows I watch just for the sake of watching it. I don't really care anymore, I just watch it out of boredom and maybe because I still want to know what is going to happen to Blair Waldorf, God love her.



Last night's episode was Valentine's-day-centered --earth-shattering, I know-- and I know Gossip Girl gives us a lot of BS but, boy, did they deliver! It starts off with Blair and Serena deciding to boycott Valentine's day. First of all, the only thing more clichéd than people celebrating Valentine's day is people boycotting it. I personally couln't care less for Valentine's day, to the extent that, were it not for my work, I would have forgotten about it altogether. But it seems to be as conventional now to embrace Valentine's day as to have your girlfriends over and eat ice-cream while bitching about men. So, original as ever, the GG screenwriter had Serena and Blair NOT celebrate V-day.

Then Dan, Serena's ex-boyfriend who just happens to live with Serena's current boyfriend, who just happens to have been convicted for the alleged molestation of the then-underaged Serena, wrote an article about how frustrating it is to live with the ex-con who is dating the girl you're still in love with. Ooh, Daniel Humphrey, what a versatile writer you are: writing about being desperately in love with Serena. It's not like it's all you've been writing (and talking, and thinking and dreaming...) about for the last three-and-a-haf seasons... Anyway, Dan wants his masterpiece to be published so he tries to have Blair pass it on to Details magazine. Oh yeah, Blair has been an intern at W for one episode and she's already the editor-in-chief's assistant. And yes, she still studies at Columbia. Because you know, it's not like people at Columbia work their asses off sunrise to sundown in order to pass a subject, Blair Waldorf can do that ON THE SIDE of her day-job as an assistant to a CondéNast publication's editor-in-chief. No biggie. So Dan wants Wonder Woman to read his article and pass it on, except that B won't do it. Why would she, she's Blair fucking Waldorf. And here comes last night's episode's first gem, when Dan goes something like:

"If you don't read it, I will apply for another internship here and you know how I am on the ring."
Ahem. Didn't you like get fired by your boss last week? From the very same magazine at which the girl you're threatening is currently working? My bad, I didn't know that, in Gossip Girl world, you get internships at prestigious magazines from which you got fired just so you can get revenge on someone for not reading your umpteenth work of teenage literature.

Then there's something about Ben, the ex-con dating Serena, not finding work so he gets to waiter on one of Chuck Bass's party (is there anyone in Manhattan having parties aside from Chuck Bass?) and also, Eric van der Woodsen gets a job as a delivery guy (isn't he supposed to be megaloaded?) and long story short, everyone is working but Serena. 'She's too busy brooding, which she only does like 98% of the time.

Meanwhile, some shit is going down at Bass Industries (God, hasn't this been going on for like five hundred years already?) and of course Lily Humphrey-Bass-van der Woodsen-Rhodes, a.k.a The Hyphen Whore, is trying to save Chuck's dad's legacy. Ugh, what legacy? It's the Empire Hotel not the Roman empire! But yeah, Lily the Brave is having brunch with Russell Thorpe, the guy who wants to buy her adopted son's company and whom she --surprise!-- used to shag before she left him for a richer dude. Classy. Of course there's a lot of head-tilting/lip-pouting because that's what powerful women do in Gossip Girl. They wear a bun (seriously, like, when is Kelly Rutherford ever going to let her hair down?) and they call everybody by their full name. She's honestly the only character who calls Dan, Nate and Chuck "Daniel", "Nathaniel" and "Charles", to the point that sometimes I'm like "Who the fuck is Charles?"

Anyway, the big V-day party comes and of course Blair is scheming yet another revenge plot against Serena (why are they still friends, not to mention roommates??) by having her attend the party and interviewing her for W about her ex-con/waiter of a boyfriend. Of course, Serena the do-gooder thought that her boyfriend was tutoring student, not doing the oh-so-demeaning job of catering. She even said to him, as a pep-talk:
"All you need to do is get a kid into an Ivy and then you'll get plenty of calls"
Earth to Serena: a) it's not that easy to get into an Ivy League. Just because you bribed your way into Brown (which you didn't even fucking attend!!) and Columbia doesn't mean everybody can afford to follow suit. b) an man who was convicted for attempted underage molestation is not going to find a job tutoring! In what world do you live, for crying out loud?

So the party is on and Chuck brings Raina Thorpe (Russel Thorpe's hot daughter) into a bedroom that is apparently really amazing band it makes everybody realize he really must love her because the bedroom is really amazing. And when Raina is all like "You must love me so because that room is so amazing" (what was so amazing about that fucking room??), Chuck looks at her and says in a deep voice:
"When I care about someone, I'm not afraid to show it."
Ahem... I beg to differ! Doesn't anyobdy remember the whole "three words and I'm yours" thing where he couldn't man up and say that he was in love with Blair, back in season 2? If there is one thing Chuck Bass is afraid of, it's show people that he cares about them. That was like the plot of two whole seasons! Still, the bedroom is amazing, blah, blah, fight between Chuck and Lily, fight between Chuck and Raina over the fight with Lily, Blair is sad because of all the fighting and Dan is here... why? They all fight and hate each other, end of scene.

Of course, Blair apologizes to Serena, she forgives her, Ben calls Serena and, as per uje, Serena was right all along because she's fucking perfect. VOM.
And Blair and Dan are friends, I guess, and they watch Rosemary's Baby together because, actually, Blair did pass the article on to Vanity Fair --shocker. And here comes my favorite quote from Blair to Dan about his article:
"When it comes to experiencing your ex with a new love, you have some insight."
No kidding? Maybe that's because your ex-girlfriend is a whore who banged every single male character on the show (not her stepbrother yet, but you never know) and you're still in love with her? Or maybe that's because everybody on that show is fooling around with everybody? Ugh, the self-indulgence of that show is killing me.

In the end, Eric is delivering something and Damian the Accent-less Belgian Dealer threatens to tell on his mom about her falsifying a document to get Ben into prison. And it's so shocking because nobody ever blackmails anyone on that show.
Oh and Nate was there for two seconds: he was hitting on a girl when his father interrupted him to talk about serious stuff, to which he replied: "You're the worst wingman ever." Uhm, why is your dad your "wingman", Nathaniel? And would you please for a second keep it in your pants? Contrary to what you seem to believe, you're NOT that hot. Build a fucking bridge and get over it.

To sum it up, for a show about the "scandalous lives of Manhattans élite", I don't smell much scandal, it's all been there done everybody. I'm still going to watch it but, God, I miss the times when Chuck and Blair were going at it in the back of a car and Nate was screwing a cougar who was in fact having an affair with her 20-year-old lord of a stepson.
A boy can dream.

Love, or what you will.

L.
Luke
Earlier today, while trying to shelter ourselves from the rain, Claudz pointed out the brown leaves on the ground and when I said that it was crazy since autumn was still so far away, she replied "It'll be autumn in a month"
Eww. Seriously, where did summer go? To everyone who said we were having the most disgusting summer in years, I always replied with something along the lines of "Not to worry, we still have heaps of sumertime to look forward to. It'll pick up." and now trees are going bare! Well I guess I shouldn't feel that surprised when I see ads for David Jones' autumn/winter collection... I feel a little bit betrayed, though, since I kept bitching about the weather in Berlin and after being on a plane for about 17 years, I find out it's grim as shit even in Australia. And, oh the humidity! The only place I like humid is a steam-room, thank you very much. No wonder I've been celibate for three months, I'm in a permanent perspirational state (sounds lush, huh?) and all I feel like doing in bed of late is nap. Or eat, but that's pretty much whenever wherever.



Anyway, enough with the small talk about the weather, it's Sunday. As in the day after Saturday night. Usually, this would mean Why-am-I-waking-up-on-a-shower-mat Day but last night was relatively non-alcoholic for two reasons: 
a. I had a pretty hardcore headache and, paranoid as I get, I'm afraid that, if I mix Panadol and alcohol, I will die --needless to say I still didn't choose Panadol.
b. I try not to make a drunken fool of myself if the last time the guests of a party saw me was when I last made a drunken fool of myself. I'm a classy lady.
So I only had four drinks, one of which I gave to someone because it tasted like vom. That's what happens when the cheap-ass sparkly wine you bring to a party was given to you by one of your guests at your own party. Again, I'm a classy lady. I still have that post-partyum feeling because, although I quit smoking on a daily basis altogether in early January, I still suck on a ciggie (or ten...) at social events and, succumbing to peer pressure, I probz ruined my throat for the next three days. It was a really fun party, though, because people went all kinds of cray-cray. We were celebrating a friend's birthday and the theme was "wizards" --I know it sounds limited but I like a challenge-- so the first thing Claudz and I saw when we came in was our birthday boy dressed as Gandalf --which, if you take off the hat and the beard, is pretty much a Jesus costume, what with the stick and all. Believe me, it's quite funny when Gandalf tells you: "I want to read your birthday card but I'm too fucking drunk" and his girlfriend comes in and she's Dobby from Harry Potter. All I kept thinking all night was how fugly their babies would look if that were fo' real, not fo' play-play. Eww.

Claudz was dressed as Bellatrix Lestrange (who, by the by, is totes the Amy Winehouse of the Harry Potter world) and I was wearing a Sorcerer's Apprentice costume from Disney's Fantasia (and I looked like I was wearing a giant condom with stars on my head) After a while, it started raining --again with the lovely Australian weather-- so some of us headed inside and that's when it all went bananas. Dobby was passing out on the couch while Gandalf-turned-Jesus was busting a move with a giant lobster --I guess someone doesn't know what a wizard is-- and about six Harry Potters. I totes would have gone as Harry Potter too, were it not for the fact that this is pretty much a non-costume for me. All I need to do is put on my glasses and a tie. And scarve a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on my forehead. But yeah, people were pretty smashed and it was fun because, for once, I wasn't.

But for all the off-their-face-ness Australians demonstrate at social gatherings, there is one thing I really enjoy about their social skills beside the fact that, unlike Parisians, they don't solely rely on passive-aggressivity: people talk to you at parties. Not in a "let's all kiss each other fiteen hundred times on the cheek and then stay with our clique all night" kind of way (read: à la French), they actually introduce themselves and start a conversation. This time, it ranged from "How the porn industry was responsible for the fall of HDVD" to "I'm a dude and I love my J-Lo booty" (this person shall remain nameless but true dat)

Morz of the storz: Aussies literally have 1.000 Facebook friends each because they bond with one another instead of bitching about other guests in a corner. Which, I'll admit, still remains one of my ultimate party faves. I guess I'm still that French.

Love, or what you will.

L.

PS: You know Australian chicks are hot when they still look lush dressed as a dirty-pillow-case wearing elf.


Luke
Oh. Em. Gee.

I haven't blogged in about forever and I realize this is a fairly common pattern of mine: whatever project I set my mind on, I end up quitting halfway through and then starting again at one point --until I quit yet again? But this time, I will keep my word for at least six months, I promise. I figured people were getting sick of reading my pseudo-witty slash philosophical statuses on Facebook and it was maybe time I went back to a more isolated platform. Which is even more accessible than Facebook but for some reason it makes more sense...


Anywho, as most of you know, I am no longer in beautiful Berlin --I got tired of the erratic weather-- and in an attempt to avoid facing reality for one more year, my good friend Claudia and I discussed "What's the furthest place from our neurotic families?" and, long story short, we took the next plane to Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. After a year of post-clubbing Döner Kebabs, here I am, eating Tim Tams by the kilo, using the word "heaps" every other sentence and trying to avoid skin cancer even when it rains. And, yes, my fellow Europeans, it's summer in February here, don't be haters.

So, what to look forward to, my friends? Crazy nerdy/gay finds from the vault, reviews of cultural and not-so-cultural stuff and comments on random things I experience (ranging from eating a crocodile steak sandwich to working as a call center operator under a female alias) Admit it, you can't wait for it.


 Love, or what you will.

L.

PS: I know I haven't replaced the picture of the Brandenburg Gate but until I find a serial number to continue using Photoshop CS5, I couldn't be bothered trying with another software. So sue me.