There’s one mantra in PR: if a mistake is made once and corrected, it’s a genuine mistake. But if it keeps being made, no matter how dumb, it’s intentional. And that’s kind of how you distinguish PR Stunt from reality.
People say that all the time to me [Justin Timberlake comparisons]. I think Harry is… I know this sounds simple, but he just wants to be himself. He’s proud because this is the record he wanted to make. And where it falls in line, I guess the audience will tell us. But I know he’s proud. It’s nice to have a comparison of Justin Timberlake. I hope he becomes that, it’d be great. But I think he’s happy being who he is. I just love his whole vision. When he put the tour up on sale, they were theatres. He probably could have done arenas. He said, ‘I don’t want to get ahead of myself here.’ I hope people wanna hear this music, cause it’s not going to be a One Direction show. He just did stadiums for six years. He wants it to be about the new album. He took a slower approach, and I thought it was brilliant. Those shows sold out in 25 seconds. And yes it leaves people wanting more, but he’ll get to them. He’s gonna play for a lot of people this year and next year.
Jensen tiredly drudges up the stairs in his Malibu home, grumpy as all hell. He just lost $2,000 at a poker game and it’s safe to say that he’s ripshit.
Although he’s not concerned about actually losing the money, being a successful movie director has set his ass up for life.
It’s just the fact that he lost. He’s a competitive fucker, always has been and always will be. It’s in his DNA.
And to add fuel to the fire, his friends refused to give him another chance to win back his money. Claiming it’s too late and they needed to call it a night. It’s only midnight for Christ’s sake. Old bastards.
Stiles and Derek have been friends forever (as well as being secretly in love with each other). All of their friends are hoping they can finally get together in time for prom and are willing to push as hard as they need to in order to make it happen. (It takes an equal amount of kind pushing from their friends to get Derek to propose five years later, but Stiles and Derek could never find it in themselves to be angry since it worked out perfectly for them).
Rich said he had acted under the assumption that Gabriel had a vessel or avatar or whatever stolen from or fashioned after Loki. And that he sealed Loki away in order to convincingly masquerade as him amongst the gods. Whatcha think of that? I had always thought of them being "same deity/different culture." Kind of like how Romans renamed the Greek pantheon.
this is actually something that i put in God’n’Gabe III! it’s my favorite portion. since it’s been out a while, i’ll show it now:
THIS is my favorite portion of the entire book. probably some of my absolute favorite comic work that i’ve ever done, too. i thought rich’s idea was brilliant, but i did take and twist it some. i made loki a prisoner in his own vessel, more or less. i like the idea that gabriel tricked the trickster when he was at his most vulnerable.
(if this looks familiar, it was original done in a video format, which i reworked to work in the book’s format!)
“What was it like,” he asks, “when you watched me die?”
“Hmm?” Emma responds, blinking her eyes open. She was nearly asleep.
The celebrations at Granny’s ended hours ago. They’re in bed now, freshly showered, under the sheets. The window is open and an early spring breeze is coming in. Just days ago it was snowing, but in the last few hours the warmth of spring seems to have settled in Storybrook. Magic probably has something to do with it, but Emma is too exhausted to be bothered by it. In fact, she’s just quite tired in general. Fighting a final battle will do that to a girl.
“What was it like when you watched me die?” Killian asks again.
if you follow my blog at all you’ll know that I absolutely fucking love Despicable Me. Like… LOVE. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. The writing, the comedy, the timing, the animation; it’s all incredibly well put together.
In fact, I’m a fan of Illumination Studios in general.
Granted, I’m not a fan of their movies.
LE GASP you say. How can you be a fan of a studio but not all their movies.
Becuase, dear reader, their movies lack a lot of things. And, for the most part, many of their movies aren’t really displays of “We Do What We Want”. They’re more “We Do What the Audience Wants.” Which… sort of makes sense. They’re a new studio. They don’t have the funds to really take huge risks yet. But god, their audience-pleasing choices can be so….
Like remember that time a few people stood up and said “hey those Minions were sort of cool”
and Illumination Studios said
OKAY HOW ABOUT WE FLOOD THE WORLD
And brought us one of the most annoying things to grace this planet.
This is a filmography of some of the wonderful characters Helena Bonham Carter has played in her acting years. This feature you are able to find on my desktop theme and if you were to hover over any particular character image you will the following:
• The film/program title
• The name of the character Helena played (which is also a link to a trailer)
Noctis: Ignis, are you sure these pocket lights will be enough for the journey? What if we spend days in the same cave? Isn’t their energy going to run out? Ignis: Worry not, Noct. I made sure to get this precise brand because their battery is like Gladio. Noctis: Like Gladio? Ignis: … Ignis: It can last ten times more than the average.
Do you guys remember the dream that Chris had about Layne? It just totally breaks my heart 😢
Posted on 10/13/2008 The essence of a dream can follow you all day long. Sometimes two or three days. I have had dreams as a little kid that I remember like they were yesterday, though as time goes on these dream are sometimes hard to tell from actual events as they survive in my memory. I am fascinated with the essence factor of dreams, period. They are as real as the essence felt from the ambience of an actual place, like a house you grew up in. Your favourite bar, or your school. The first Christmas tree you see every year, the smell of it, and especially songs. Some feelings these environments evoke are awful, some magical. All of them completely real. Real enough that numerous cultures throughout history have believed that the dream world is every bit as important and substantial and a vital part of human life as the conscious state. Some mysticisms actually look at the world of dreams as being the “true and only world” and everything else an illusion. For my money, if you put an ice pick through your hand, I think it will prove to be a pretty fucking good illusion. Last night I had a dream that has been following me all day like a sick dog. I was in a hotel near the house I grew up in. I was in a cafe that happened to be the lunch court of my elementary school. Various friends from my past were walking up and talking to me. In the middle of this scene walks Layne Staley. He looked much like he did the first time I met him. Shoulder length hair, clean shaved. Clear eyed and looking about 20 years old. I was so happy. Confused a little, but in a dream like this, I just wanted to accept the idea that there was some mistake and he was alive and well. He seemed happy and said was working on some new music project. I woke up not long after that with the feeling that I had really just talked to him and he was somewhere doing just fine. My next thought was one that has plagued me for years. Sitting in Kelly Curtis’ living room with about 30 people, all sobbing. We had just come from Andy Wood’s extra weird funeral-wake thing at the Paramount Theatre. It had these new age overtones that didn’t fit Andy’s life at all. There was an amazing film of Andy with Mother Love Bone band mates. All of Andy’s friends and family were there, mixed with a bunch of fans who I didn’t like but knew Andy would have loved. The fans went home. His friends went to Kelly’s. We were crammed in a smallish living room with people sitting on every available surface. Couch arms, end tables, the floor. I was leaning on the back of one of the couches that face away from the rest of the room and toward the front door. I remember Andy’s girlfriend looking at everyone and saying “This is just like La Bamba” then suddenly I heard slapping footsteps growing louder and louder as they reached the front door and Layne flew in, completely breaking down and crying so deeply that he looked truly frightened and lost. Very child like. He looked up at everyone at once and I had this sudden urge to run over and grab him and give him a big hug and tell him everything was going to be OK. Kelly has always had a way of making everyone feel like everything will turn out great. That the world isn’t ending. That’s why we were at his place. I wanted to be that person for Layne, maybe just because he needed it so bad. I wasn’t. I didn’t get up in front of the room and offer that and I still regret it. No one else did either. I don’t know why. Years later, at Layne’s funeral, I was angry. I kept hearing the “twice as bright, half as long” speech and the “he was just too special for this world” nonsense that I had heard at so many other funerals for so many other friends that were so young and talented. I’m not sure why I was that angry. Angry at Layne? Angry at all my other friends for leaving me? Angry at the people running around in circles saying “I knew him best” or “I was the only one he really trusted”, angry at all of them for squandering what I thought of as brilliant futures that would make the world feel to me like a place worth living? Or maybe I was just mad at myself because he was dead, and one time I had a chance to pick him up, dust him off and let him know that there was a person who cared about how much pain he was in and I didn’t do it. If I ever run into him in a dream again, I hope I remember to apologise. Night all. Sweet dreams. C