Archive for May, 2009
You want action? You want adventure? You want girls (or maybe just one)?
You need VIXEN HAWK!
Episode One – The Pilot Episode
Young Victoria wakes up from a twelve month coma and realises that not only does she possess the strength of twelve women but she can run as fast as a chip van, possibly twelve. It all could be traced back to that bizarre traffic accident when she crossed the road only to be mauled by a helicopter full of strange glowing vats of oozing goo. There was a symbol on the side but gosh, Victoria just can’t quite remember it. Perhaps she will in twenty episodes time though, in time for the two-parter towards the end of the series.
First though to action. No longer known by her name, Victoria has a quick costume change and covering her face with a mask made of velour she becomes the ass-kicking, villain-snubbing, chip van-chasing Vixen Hawk.
She needs answers. Vixen traces the pilot of the helicopter to his grave; he’s dead. His brother could hold some answers but alas he too died in the accident. His sister survived the accident but broke her ankle stepping out the ambulance and broke to death.
Tragedy follows Vixen like a crow with a bad chude. Not only does she need to solve this mystery but work out how to get her old job at the office back and resume her relationship with Bobby Paul. Too much for a one hour pilot; definitely needs a series. And so it did.
CULT SERIES PULP! READ MORE SOON!
May 27th, 2009
Hey kids, this world is in dire need of some excitement and joy and I am here to spread it with the help of a couple of friends of mine. I think you’ve HEARD of them. Hu hah! Hu hah!
There is nothing better than stretching out on the sofa, sticking a film on and watching it. But what would you do if you couldn’t hear what was going on? You wouldn’t use subtitles. Subtitles are written by unhappy slackers who like messing with your minds, and what is written is never what is said in the actual film.
You’ve just bought the best of Fleetwood Mac and whip out the old player to listen to that futuristic vinyl sound. But what’s this? Stevie Nicks is singing but there’s only silence. The neighbours downstairs are dancing to ‘Go Your Own Way’ and you can only stare sadly at the tear-stained record cover.
It’s because you don’t have them, you don’t have what everyone needs. What does everyone need? Everyone needs EARS. Everyone loves EARS.
Welcome my friends to the Magic of Ears!
May 26th, 2009
Whilst having my shoes buffed at the local buffery yesterday I noticed a rucus occuring across the street. I paid Gepetto, the friendly Northerner, his usual fee of two carneys and went over to investigate. Before I got the chance to lodge an interest I was attacked by three chagrins. They were bad, Gabby Hayes bad. The leader had two eyepatches and a mohawk which he used to tickle underneath my chin. The other two danced a disturbing dance of pain before nutting me in the Welcomes.
Thankfully a rival gang of Chagrins, the Chirpies, were teaching some limpets how to draw circles nearby and came to my rescue. Sometimes I wonder if they are both a curse and a gift, then I remember how much the Chagrin has given to the modern world and I immediately weep openly like a bitch.
May 18th, 2009
Just so you all know, I am still here, I’m just lacking umpf lately.
If anyone knows wehre I can aquire some, that would be most handy….
May 11th, 2009
This month’s picture I am really happy with – and as I said before, it was just a chance picture that EEFY McJEEFY took while I happened to be out of sight for a moment.
There I was, froclicking in the breakers in my two-piece swimsuit and my hair in pigtails, when I stepped behind the large rock on the right to have a slash. And click! The picture was done. Wonderful image, and quite sexy too.
May 6th, 2009
Slow as slow can be
So stumbles the drunken Christmas Tree.
Dragging behind the pieces of the past
In a tatty old sack that will never last,
He scours the streets for the last sign of hope,
Something to help him, something to cope.
Sloshing in his stomach a full bottle of gin,
Lacking the whimsy, the joy and his grin.
December is gone, like the fragments of his mind,
Like the cosy living room he left behind.
Arthur “Lemon” Lemonson – 2009
May 6th, 2009
