Don’t Leave

Off to Brighton We Go

This is a post about the film Quadrophenia and not about a trip to the sea side. Deceptive no? My new friend recommended it to me and I was very pleasantly surprised. First off, how can you not love a film about the conflict between ‘mods’ and ‘rockers’?! Well probably quite easily, but this was really good, honest! It’s all about Jimmy, your typical London-dwelling angst teen mod, who loves his mirror and flag adorned scooter, who is simply misunderstood by all generations especially his ma and pa. Don’t you just relate to that immediately? No? Well okay then. Him and his pill-popping gang have so much hate for the ‘rockers’, who wear leather and ride motorcycles (that’s how you tell who’s who) and they go around beating each other up. Modern day Romeo and Juliet without the love bit.. So not similar at all.

Anyhoo they have this mad weekend in Brighton, lots of fighting on the beach, lots of the popo, bit of sexy time with the love interest and STING. Yes that’s right STING turns up looking extremely fierce and disturbingly attractive in a silver trench coat get up and the blondest hair known to mankind. Immediately the film became one of my all time favourites. It all goes down hill after STING appears and Jimbob quits his job, gets dumped and generally goes off his rocker (not a rocker) and drives STING’s flash scooter off a cliff leaving us with a did he? did he not? kill himself sort of vibe. 

BAM! Now that’s a film ladies and gents. 

enjoy some sting on me x

Even Your Emotions Had An Echo

They Always Come Crawling (or driving) Back

The ‘they’ in the title is me. I have been away from the wonderful world of boring people with my nonsense for quite a while. I have no legit reason for the disappearing act and that’s that.

I am happy to report that I am now the driver of a cute, old, little Fiat Punto named Patrice (obviously darling!). I am queen of the road, empress of the motorways and unfortunately the village idiot of hill-starts. Learning to drive in a car that has cool automatic electric handbrake button was a grave mistake. Patrice, like me, is technologically challenged and so I have had to learn how to use a normal handbrake. DRAMA CENTRAL. To those unlucky bastards ever behind me on a hill, I am sorry, but more importantly, beeping at me (shockingly) will not help to speed up the process!

NB. I am currently hopelessly infatuated with a boy who played Laura Marling to me on guitar the morning of a one-night occurrence.  We’ve been talking but c’mon this is not how true love stories start.

kærlighed.