The Walking Women

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AOOGA! SPOILER ALERT! 

If you haven't already seen series one and two of The Walking Dead and don't want it ruined for you then I suggest you skip this post. There's other ones there in the circles on the sidebar a bit further down that are about girls jumping out of cakes and Catwoman and fashion in Star Trek and all kinds of other stuff. Try some of those instead!

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As you probably know by now, I quite enjoy a zombie tale or two, even though they scare the actual pants off me. I've been voraciously tearing my way through The Walking Dead comic series, whispering "Oh noooo!" to myself and quietly whimpering in fear as I turn the next page. If it was a pop-up book I'd probably have a heart attack. So naturally, the Bear and I watched the first two seasons of the TV show. Which I also enjoyed quite a lot, and yet there was something bothering me. Something other than Carl aka The Dumbest Child in the World aka "For Fuck's SAKE Carl!", who, incidentally is actually kind of cool and not the least bit annoying in the comic.


The something in question here is the bloody rampant sexism in the show. It's something that creeps into the comics too, which I have to say I didn't really notice while reading, but looking back on it there are quite a few instances of patriarchal bullshit. Such as Glenn remarking that there's "not that many women to go around". What the hell, Glenn? Women to go around? The women you speak of are participants in surviving the goddamn zombie apocalypse, just like you, not inanimate supplies or tins of beans to be distributed amongst the menfolk, you fuck. And I actually like Glenn. Most of the time. Although in the TV show, he did ask Dale if all the (understandably frazzled - what with the impending threat of zombies wanting to eat their faces) women were on their period at the same time, because, y'know, bitches be crazy and all.

Shut up Glenn.

Among those women survivors is Lori Grimes, wife of group leader Rick and mother to "For Fuck's SAKE Carl!". Comic book Lori undergoes something of a transformation, as at first she looks to be decidedly Native American but eventually morphs into a more Caucasian version of herself.


She's Rick's voice of reason and while she's not a particularly stand out character, she's not even half as awful as TV show Lori. TV show Lori is nagging, self righteous and generally an allstar pain in the hole. She gets up in everyone else's business and berates Andrea for having the cheek to not do all the washing up, childminding and laundry with all the other wimmin and wanting to guard the camp and shoot zombies in the face. Because it's not like EVERY DAMN PERSON in the camp should be learning to defend themselves and evenly dividing the group's duties between them. Oh no, according to Lori "the men can handle it anyway, they don’t need you". Go fuck yourself, Lori.


Andrea's a total badass in the comic books. She becomes the best shot in the group and keeps them all safe in her role as a superhero sniper. However, in the TV show, she has Dale confiscate her gun because he's decided she can't be trusted not to top herself, while For Fuck's Sake Carl!, a ten year old idiot, is allowed to carry a gun. She has angry sex with Shane, who is the kind of person who tried to rape Lori earlier on in the first series and then she shoots Darryl after mistaking him for a zombie. OH THAT SILLY WOMAN.

Further instances of the TV show females being lame include Carol clinging to her abusive husband and once he's killed off, clinging onto Darryl like a barnacle with very short grey hair and opts out of making any sort of decision when the group is trying to vote on what to do with their prisoner. Maggie entered the show swinging a baseball bat at the undead while galloping along on horseback, like a zombie-slaying superstar and now she's a hysterical mess, flinging Lori's morning after pills at her in in a rage shouting "Here's your abortion pills!" as part of a grim little pro-life slant. I mean, yes, she and Glenn got jumped by an undead bastard while on their run to the chemist, but that outburst and subsequent storyline (Rick being super angry at Lori for even considering the abortion attempt) rang pro-life to me. And if a zombie apocalypse isn't reason enough not to go through with a pregnancy then I'm fucked if I know what is.

There IS a ray of hope though. A katana-wielding, bandana-wearing, stone cold ass-kicking ray of hope. When Andrea was scrambling through the woods in the finale of the second series, she was saved from being an imminent zombie snack (zombie bag of Tayto, perhaps) by a mysterious hooded figure leading two armless, jawless walkers with chains around their necks. The hooded figure in question here is Michonne, and her entrance is super exciting, as she and Andrea are easily the strongest female characters in the comic series.


Danai Gurira has been cast in the role, so hopefully she'll be able to pull off Michonne's immesurably cool and devastating approach to zombie chopping and generally taking care of business.

Because this here on the left is how awesome Michonne is.

Somehow I don't see Lori lecturing Michonne on how she's supposed to be washing socks with her and Carol instead being amazing at decaptitating walkers. All that being said, I really do enjoy the show, the zombies are brilliantly done and spectacularly scary and I do like the fact that the storyline veers away from the comics from time to time, otherwise there'd be no surprises for the readers. I just wish the writers would cop the fuck on when it comes to the female characters and with Michonne and her giant can of whoop-ass, hopefully that's what will happen.

Wild Things

There was a time before celebrities had to give their babies mental-sounding names to show us how much better they are than us regular folk. A time before pesky possession of exotic animals laws were brought in. Which means a time when famous people could look cool as fuck parading their fancy wild animal pets around the place.

SUCH AS

Audrey Hepburn and her pet deer, out doing the weekly shop.
  Beatrix Potter with her pet rabbit (well OBVIOUSLY), named Benjamin Bouncer.

Legendary dancer/singer/actress/badass Josephine Baker with her pet cheetah Chiquita.

John Barrymore (Drew's grandad) looking awfully dapper with his pet monkey.

Another pet cheetah here, with American actress Phyllis Gordon doing a spot of window shopping.

Frida Kahlo chilling out with her per deer, Granizo. Which, according to totally reliable online translators, means "hailstones". Cute!

Salvador Dali with his pet anteater. Of course. He'd hardly have a pet Jack Russell now, would he?

And finally, what has to be my absolute favourite of these photos...

Burlesque superstar Zorita, OUT WALKING her pet snake. That's right, she's taking a SNAKE for a WALK. Because Zorita doesn't give a FUCK.

Lots more brilliant ones over at Retronaut. I would now like a pet ocelot, please.

Sweet Valley High Revisited - Power Play

I realise that there have been more tumbleweeds than blog posts around here lately, which is due to real life work being so ridiculously busy for the last while and my getting home in the evenings and not having the energy or inclination to go near a screen, unless it's to play Draw Something. Things seem to have calmed down somewhat for the moment, so I've decided to do the next in my continuing series of posts wherein I'm appalled and fascinated by The Glorious Wakefields. Also because the last time I met my lovely friend Brenda for a pint, she shouted "READ FASTER!" at me.

Sweet Valley High #4: Power Play 

The twins look like they're about to shift the faces off each other. Also, nice eyebrows.

Right so, this book's main plot concerns one Robin Wilson, whose introduction in the last book served only to quickly establish the fact that she's REALLY FAT and wants to be friends with Jessica. Well it turns out that she also desperately wants to join the Pi Beta Alpha sorority that the twins are members of, even though they sound like a shower of self-important bitches who don't actually do anything. Even Elizabeth keeps harping on about how snobby they are so I don't know why she won't just fucking well leave. Anyway, Robin is under the illusion that Jessica is her friend and has promised to nominate her for membership at their next pointless meeting. Elizabeth knows full well that Jessica won't do anything of the sort and is just using Robin as some kind of errand-running lackey, so she decides to throw the poor girl a bone and nominate her herself.

Unsurprisingly, Jessica and the Pi Betas don't want Robin in their clique because a fat girl would be bad for their image and they're all terrible people. However, they go ahead and agree to nominate her, as that means they get to torment her via the ridiculous and totally stupid process of hazing, before having to vote on whether she can join or not. I've always thought the Greek system was a load of wank and it totally is. Jessica, Lila and Cara call to Robin's house to tell her the "good" news and for some reason are repulsed by her nervous and kind offers of milkshakes or sodas, because, again, they're TERRIBLE PEOPLE WITH NO SOULS. Who wouldn't gladly accept a milkshake when offered one? VAPID IDIOTS, that's who.

Lila, Jessica and Cara are like an Eighties version of this in my head.

If the last book was bad for constantly pointing out that Robin is overweight, this book is utterly relentless in reminding us. In the first chapter alone it mentions her hungrily munching two giant bars of chocolate while talking to Elizabeth and describes her getting up off the couch as "struggling to get out of the deep cushions". See, it's because she's SO FAT, YOU GUYS. She can't even SIT DOWN without ending up like a chubby turtle stuck on its back, HA HA HA. When Jessica and her cronies leave the house, Robin is so overwhelmed with happiness that she celebrates the only way a fat bird knows how, which - according to Francine and her cackling, body-shaming ghostwriter army - is by eating an entire cherry cheesecake.

The next day, Elizabeth is furious to discover that Jessica and her posse of bitches are making Robin run laps of the school's running track after school for a week, while they and a bunch of other horrible people mock her in a vicious and heartless display of bullying. Her next task is to go to the beach and play volleyball in a bikini, which Robin is dreading, because in case you've forgotten, SHE'S FAT. Anyway, Robin perseveres and gets through each challenge, much to evil Jessica's annoyance, so she cooks up an impossible one to stop Robin in her big fat tracks. She now has to get Bruce Patman to take her to the Disco-marathon that weekend. DUN DUN DUUUUN. And yes, so far we've had a dance PER BOOK since book one. The students of Sweet Valley High must be fucking exhausted. Elizabeth tries to console her and this actual conversation takes place:

"I might as well ask Elvis Presley!" "Robin," Elizabeth reminded her gently, "Elvis has been dead for-" "That's just my point. I'd have a better chance with a dead superstar than a live Bruce Patman!"

Oh my GOD, Elizabeth you PATRONISING GEEBAG. Did she ACTUALLY think that Robin didn't know that Elvis is dead? SERIOUSLY.

Anyway, Elizabeth persuades Bruce to take Robin to the dance in exchange for her writing a big feature about him in the school paper about him being brilliant at tennis. Which results in what must be the most hilarious line in the whole book, because Bruce has inexplicably turned into a 1930s cartoon gangster. "All right. I'll take her. But I want my picture in, see! A big one. And tell how I whipped that guy at Palisades." I swear I nearly fell out of bed laughing at that one.

So Bruce takes Robin to the dance but immediately ditches her in the middle of the dance floor, loudly asking if anyone wants to steer the Queen Mary around for the night, before walking off, like an utter dickhead. Robin runs off crying and Elizabeth tries to give her a pep talk in the bathroom, realises that Robin is actually really pretty and for some reason seems totally amazed that a heavy girl could be good looking. Robin has had enough of the Wakefield wenches at this stage so she runs off to the car park and ends up meeting the lanky school paper photographer, Allen Walters. He gets her to come back inside, they dance together and then he takes her home. Aw. In your face, Jesssica!

Meanwhile, Lila "Daddy Issues" Fowler has been shoplifting the shit out of Lisette's, a fancy new French boutique at the mall. Elizabeth sees her yoinking a bracelet and it turns out that she's doing it for attention because her dad is hardly ever home. She gets caught by mall security and calls Elizabeth to come help her, even though they hate each other and gets six months probation and a promise from her dad that he'll be less of an absent jerk.

The Pi Betas hold their vote on new members, but Robin gets blackballed (by Jessica, of course) and is distraught. She disappears for a bit and when she returns she stops talking to anyone at school and walks around like a "space cadet" according to Jessica, whom she totally blanks now. Go Robin! She also takes up pounding the running track every day after school, losing weight (a bit too) quickly and as a concession to the fact that anorexia is bad, m'kay, Elizabeth tells her she hopes she's doing it the right way, so Robin assures her that she's not starving herself to death. She tries out for the cheerleading squad and not only does she make the cut, she becomes co-captain and now that she's skinny and hot, everyone thinks she's brilliant so she's suddenly popular. This book sends out SUCH a horrendously bad message.

At this stage, even Bruce Patman has a raging hard-on for Robin and when she declares her candidacy for Miss Sweet Valley High (I don't know how these kids actually get an education at this school, when 90% of the curriculum is dances and pageants) the school splits into Team Jessica and Team Robin. The chemistry club name their newest formula "The Robin Reaction" (because all high school students INVENT FORMULAS, right?) and the football team's offensive and defensive lines carry banners around the school declaring their support for either Jessica or Robin. The one for Robin reads Robin Has Us Throbbin'. Seriously. FILTH! On the night of some big football game, Robin is announced as the winner and then publicly disses Bruce by asking him to drive her around the stadium in his Porsche for her victory lap, but choosing Allen to be her escort, reducing Bruce to lowly chauffeur status. HA! Good enough for him.

Notable outfit:
There was a serious lack of hilarious clothing this time around, but we DO get treated to the most Eighties sentence in the world:

"Jessica was wearing leotards and exercising with Jane Fonda via video cassette."

Leotards? Plural? How many did she have on?

Things I counted:
Number of pages: 150
References to the twins' blue-green eyes: 3
References to the fact that the twins are blonde: 4
Amount of times people blush: 9
References to Robin being fat: 30 (THIRTY! For realz.)

Veronica's Closet

As you're all probably well aware by now, unless you're allergic to the internet and pop culture news in general, Anchorman is to return for a sequel eight years (EIGHT YEARS! That's an entire small person ago! How did that happen?) after its release. Some are a bit nervous about the news, as sequels as good as their predecessor are a rare thing indeed. But the fact that there's been such a gap since it first came out makes me cautiously optimistic, as hurried sequels tend to be mediocre at best.

So anyway, after hearing the news I decided to write a post about the driven and unflappable Veronica Corningstone, anchorwoman extraordinaire, possessor of the most breathtaking heinie in all of Sandiago and a kickass wardrobe to boot.


She first sashays into Ron Burgundy's life at the news team's pool party, practically glowing in a knockout white ensemble and soft Veronica Lake curls, an unattainable mystery woman who swiftly bats away Ron's declaration of wanting to be on her.


As she finds herself in a constant battle with the boys club of the newsroom, she deals with their clumsy advances and attempts to sabotage her by rising above them and the cloud of Sex Panther fumes with poise and generally being brilliant at what she does.


Of course, her professionalism falters slightly when she tricks Ron into telling San Diego to go fuck itself. But that bit is totally amazing AND he called her a smelly pirate hooker, so yay Veronica! What remains unwavering throughout though are her super sharp suits and deadly scarves.


I'm definitely looking forward to the sequel, being a big fan of the first one, but also to see if they're going to keep the news team in the seventies or bring them into the eighties, and if so, what Veronica's take on a shoulder-padded power suit will be.

NEWS TEAM...ASSEMBLE!

Sweet Valley High Revisited - Playing With Fire

While it may not look like it, this post was very nearly a disaster of the unmitigated variety. I had just gotten stuck into book three of the series in ebook format and all was going to plan. There was a dance contest at the school (of course), Lila was wearing a yellow dress that "looked like it had been ripped right from the pages of In Style" (In Style? Ok, maybe it's been around since the Eighties, thought I), however, there seemed to be a suspicious lack of hilarious outfits but then we got to the school band playing onstage and shit got real, because these guys were called Valley of Death. VALLEY OF DEATH? Stall the fucking BALL, who the hell are these jokers?

Next thing I know, it's being explained that the dance competition used to be totally lame but "since all the crazy reality TV dance competitions started popping up, it had become one of the most popular events of the year". Reality TV? In the Eighties? I BLOODY WELL THINK NOT.

It turns out I was reading a 2008 rewrite. I would have flung it across the room in disgust, only I was reading it on my iPad and that probably wouldn't be the best idea ever. Let me tell you, the town of Sweet Valley in 2008 is a frightening and unfamiliar place. For one thing, Bruce no longer drives his black Porsche, he now has a Cadillac. Are Porsches not cool enough anymore or something? Dairi Burger has mutated into Casa del Sol, a burritos and nachos Mexican restaurant. What the hell was wrong with burgers? People still eat burgers, you rewriting jerks! As I've already pointed out, The Droids are now called Valley of Death. Ugh. WORST. NAME. EVER. As if that wasn't bad enough, it describes drummer Emily Mayer's outfit thusly: "Her dark hair was combed into her face and her eyes were rimmed with black kohl liner. She was wearing a faded black t-shirt with a red peace sign on the front and baggy shorts with combat boots." You IDIOTS! The Droids dress like Jem and The Holograms, not like My Chemical Romance rejects! For shame, ghost writing lady. FOR. SHAME.

Anyway, the day was eventually saved by eBay and my slightly panicked snapping up of the first six books of the series. So here we go, the untainted, unspoiled, un-mobile-phones-being-awkwardly-shoehorned-in-at-every-opportunity version of book the third.

Sweet Valley High #3: Playing With Fire


So, big dance contest hoo-ha. It seems that the very fabric of Sweet Valley High would be under serious threat if there wasn't a dance of some sort held at least once a week. Thanks to Elizabeth's dastardly revenge plot at the end of the second book, Jessica has to attend the dance with nerdy Winston Egbert, as they're the reigning king and queen of something or other. Jessica is all huffy because she wants to dance with the minted and handsome Bruce Patman and Winston keeps stepping on her foot. We're also introduced to Robin Wilson, who has the audacity to want to be friends with Jessica and who, by the sound of it, is the only fat person in all of Sweet Valley. The way the book describes her is actually so cruel and unnecessary, practically every mention of her has some reference to her size - "the overweight girl", "running as fast as her plump legs could carry her", "the pudgy girl standing before her" - Jesus, alright Francine, we get it, you hate fat people. Way to fuck with preteen reader body issues. Anyway, Bruce eventually swoops in and rescues Jessica from Winston's left-footedness with his nifty dance moves, lifting her high in the air and spinning her over his shoulders because it seems that they're actually Johnny Castle and Baby. Naturally, they win and Jessica ditches Winston to go off to Ken's house party with Bruce, after Elizabeth does the requisite bit of nagging her to be careful.

At the party, when the group all go for a splash in the lake, Jessica and Bruce swim away from the rest to grind against each other like dogs in heat. They're having a watery shift when suddenly Jessica realises that Bruce has UNTIED HER BIKINI TOP. They're up to their shoulders in water and all but still, it's totally SAUCY you guys. The book even says the word breasts! Can you HANDLE the SCANDAL? THIS is why these books were barred from certain households in the early Nineties. Jessica begins to back off a bit, so Bruce essentially calls her a prick tease and even though Jessica wants to slow things down a notch, they sneak off to the woods together because logic is for losers.

Elizabeth comes over all Helen Lovejoy, clutches her pearls and follows them into the trees to save Jessica from having sexy fun with the handsome boy she likes. She reminds me here of the Joan Rivers-voiced lady version of C-3PO in Spaceballs and her Virgin Alarm. Jessica tells Elizabeth to fuck away off and stays out all night with Bruce like the horny teenager she is.

The next morning, Elizabeth is moping over breakfast while Ned and Alice give us a little insight into their seemingly perfect relationship. Alice reads in the paper that George Fowler is expanding his business so she decides to show him her interior design portfolio, seeing as that's her job and all. It turns out that Ned has heard that the job is going to some big firm in San Francisco and never mentioned it to her because it didn't seem important. "She was unhappy with her husband's lack of interest in her work, but she had no desire to make an issue of it on this bright, clear Sunday morning." And it seems that she never gets the desire to call Ned out on his disinterested bullshit, because that's the last we ever hear of it. Fuck you, Ned Wakefield!

In the meantime, aka Subplot-land, The Droids are all excited because a record company rep came to their gig at the dance competition (he wore red leather pants. RED LEATHER PANTS) and said he's going to be their manager and make them famous.

Jessica starts spending all her time according to what Bruce wants to do, skips classes to indulge in a spot of frottage on school grounds, collects dry cleaning for him and stops going to cheerleading practice because he thinks cheerleading is stupid. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but according to every piece of pop culture ever, high school boys are all about the cheerleaders, no? Well, not in Bruce's case anyway. He's also going around the school saying he gets whatever he wants, when he wants it from Jessica because she's a total hobag. Meanwhile, Jessica acts like a simpering doormat to keep Bruce happy, because he seems to like his women braindead. She's all excited about playing tennis with him, but he gets really annoyed that she's better at it than he is, so she throws the match to keep him sweet. By sweet I mean mentally abusive. She also changes the way she dresses, going on a shopping spree for the most boring clothes ever. A matching brown wool blazer and skirt and two oxford shirts, to be precise. I actually missed the diabolical sociopathic Jessica at this stage. I mean, yeah she was out of her devious mind most of the time, but at least she wouldn't ever let an Eighties douchebag cliché order her around.

He's even got a jumper over his shoulders, which is the universal symbol of smug twats worldwide. He also has Jessica in some manner of choke hold, but hey, who doesn't enjoy a little light choking now and again?

For some reason, Jessica makes plans with Robin (who is fat by the way) to give her a makeover (because she's so fat and all) but blows her off because Bruce whistles for her so she comes running. Elizabeth invites Robin out to a Droids gig that's been organised by their fancy red pants wearing manager. They go along with Todd and Winston, but the club is a dive and hardly anyone shows up. Everyone has a miserable time and it turns out that Mr. Red Pants actually just wanted to get into lead singer Dana Larson's sparkly and/or velvet pants and never had any intention of making The Droids a nationwide success. It seems like a lot of effort for a grown man to go to just to get the ride off a high school student, but whatever.

Boring New Jessica eventually comes to her senses on the night of Bruce's birthday party. He ignores her for the entire shindig, dancing with every girl at the party except her. The party then moves to Guido's for some pizza, but after making a call at the payphone, (in the stupid new version, his mobile goes off and his ringtone is This is Why I'm Hot. Barf.) Bruce announces to Jessica that he has to go because his grandmother has suddenly been struck down by a mystery illness. Elizabeth smells a rat and offers to take Jessica home and with Todd's help, bundles her off into his crap Datsun. They drive around for a bit and Elizabeth pretends that she's left her keys at the pizza place so they have to go back. When Jessica sees that Bruce's car is still there, she comes in too, only to find that Bruce has been joined by some random redheaded hottie. Jessica finally snaps out of her Stepford stupor, throws a pizza slice in Bruce's face and dumps a soda over his head, causing him to topple backwards into the restaurant's indoor fountain. Revenge, Wakefield style. He emotionally abused her, made her change her whole personality and fucked her around the entire time, but it's ok now because he's got cheese on his shirt and he got wet. Yeah. Although I am actually glad that the deranged psycho Jessica is back. Yay!

Notable outfit:
"Dressed in a bright blue, skin-hugging mini-dress and matching tights, Jessica was an eye-catching sight."

I'm sure that anyone who went to a school dance dressed as Smurfette would be an eye-catching sight.

Things I counted:
Number of pages: 149
References to the twins' blue-green eyes: 2 (Disappointing.)
References to the fact that the twins are blonde: 3 (Disappointing x2)
References to Robin Wilson being fat: 11
References to Jessica being "starry-eyed" over Bruce: 3

Paddy's Day In Polaroids

Alternating between cider and Lemsip for my snuffly cold in the name of powering through for our national holiday. The Bear humming Sleigh Ride and putting Christmas songs in my head. "Stop that!" "But I don't know any Patrick's Day songs!" "Sure you do! Dóchas linn Naomh Pádraig, something something Éireann..." "Paa rum-pa-pum-pum!" "No!" Hanging out of a marvellous first floor Dame Street window (same one as last year) to roar "GO WILDCATS!" and the like at the American high school marching bands. An unfortunate clarinet player from one of said bands stopping and getting sick on a Garda's shiny black shoes. Natural Confectionery Company Snakes and Shamrocks jellies. Getting overly excited by the bubbles emanating from Spraoi's steampunk ship float. The Bear and I hungrily horsing pizza into ourselves after a hard day's parade watching and rugby disappointment. Collapsing on the couch and falling apart by around half seven, because powering through when you're not altogether well takes it out of a girl.

Back To School

I can't remember what I was looking for online when I came upon these images. Whatever it was, it ended up being quickly sidelined, as all my attention had now shifted to this shiny new distraction. The distraction in question being the concept art for Gotham High, an abandoned idea for a Batman cartoon set in high school. Artists Jeff and Celeste published the images on their blog last year, explaining that they were asked to develop the idea, which was based on a drawing they had previously sent to DC Comics. The project never got off the ground, but they came up with some rather deadly images for it.


I love me some Harley Quinn (when she's done properly, that is), so I got quite excited when I saw the kick ass poster above, which was the original drawing and starting point for the idea. The rest of the Gotham High artwork shows a teenage Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon surrounded by the usual array of Gotham rogues very nicely rendered as high school students.

Click to enlarge. Do it!

The online reaction to the idea was mostly that of Batfans getting all cross and shouting about what a terrible idea it was and how glad they were that it'll never get made. Which seemed a bit harsh. Their biggest problem with it was that it ignores the history of so many of the characters, but seeing as comic universe back stories are always evolving and being rewritten to suit different demands, I think we should all just calm the fuck down and put our pants back on. The show isn't going to be made, so these just offer a fun new spin on established characters in the Batman canon.


Barbara Gordon (Batgirl) is the cute, bespectacled girl next door, Bruce is all handsome and mysterious, Scarecrow is an indie hipster type and Selina Kyle (Catwoman - yay!) is the femme fatale troublemaker. OBVIOUSLY. 


I quite like the look that was given to Catwoman. I'm always in favour of purple hair though - as if I needed another reason to love her - and the leopard print skirt is a nice touch to her bad girl outfit.


The Joker appears pretty much the same as he does in the poster, but Harley is toned down a notch, with no facepaint or side-torso to be seen. She still looks great though, her expression is equal parts endearing and mental. Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy) is a hot green-skinned goth chick, Bane is a wrestler jock and Mr. Freeze is a baldy cool guy.


I wouldn't have thought that being a cheerleader would quite fit with the goth girl role that Poison Ivy was cast in, but I do love this picture of her and Harley Quinn as black-clad cheer squad members. Catwoman is obviously too cool to be a cheerleader. She's probably around the back of those tiered bleachers smoking a fag. I do actually think this could have been a great cartoon, like X Men: Evolution, but more fun. There are more images over on the Jeff and Celeste site and I suggest you have a look at them, because they're brilliant.

Sweet Valley High Revisited - Secrets

Between scrambling for second hand copies on eBay and acquiring downloaded pdfs, it appears that I'm managing to get my hands on the first ten or so Sweet Valley High books. Which means that there'll actually be some manner of sequence to this series, temporarily at least. Yay! And with that, onwards to book two!

Sweet Valley High #2: Secrets


It would seem that after suffocating us at the beginning of book one with the "all-American" (what does that even mean?) genetic supremacy of the Wakefield twins, they decided to lay off ever so slightly this time around. Jessica is only referred to as "bewitching" twice, after all. The story kicks off with Jessica desperately hoping she'll be crowned Queen of the Fall Dance, even though there was already a school dance about ten minutes ago. Also, she's totally in love with Bruce Patman because he's rich and hot and drives a Porsche and those are the most important things in life after all.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Enid are making cookies in Casa Wakefield (it's a Spanish tiled kitchen, you know) and Enid is all on edge about her boyfriend Ronnie finding out about her TERRIBLE SECRET. Dramatic! Two years earlier, Enid lost the run of herself entirely and started hanging around with a BAD CROWD. She got involved with a ne'er-do-well called George and they did a load of drugs and drinking, culminating in them going joyriding in George's car (is it joyriding if it's your own car?) "stoned out of their minds" (so...they were driving at around six miles an hour then?) and knocking down a little boy, breaking his arm, the hooligans. George was shipped off to boarding school and Enid straightened her life out, becoming the boring sidekick we now know and tolerate.

While she's telling Elizabeth all of this, her thoughts segue into a description about how gorgeous Liz is, lest we forget that even when the story doesn't actually concern them, we should in fact be talking about the Wakefields. So Enid still keeps in touch with George and she's scared of telling Ronnie because he'll freak the fuck out, due to him being a possessive dickhead who gives her shit for talking to anyone male about anything ever. She shows one of his letters to Elizabeth and then they suddenly have a lame pillow fight where neither one of them notices one of the letters falling onto the bedroom floor. THANKS, FREDDIE FORESHADOWING.

Elizabeth's shocked expression = sex doll face. I'm sorry. Also, lavaliere necklaces! Yay!

At school, Jessica is busy being furious that her sister has the cheek to be friends with someone as boring and nerdy as Enid, and at one point even says "what if someone thought it was me hanging out with Enid?" Just to hammer the point home that Jessica is a terrible person and all. She's also got her knickers in a twist over Enid because she's somehow her competition for the Fall Dance Queen thing and Ronnie is head of the dance committee and Jessica seems to think everyone is as mental and devious as she is. I'm not quite sure what the deal is with Enid being her competition though. If pop culture has taught me anything (and it has), it's that the popular, bitchy girls are the ones that get nominated for these things. So surely Jessica's friends or the other sorority girls would have been more likely? If I was Lila Fowler I'd be all kinds of pissed off about it. So anyway, Jessica finds one of George's letters in Elizabeth's room (I DID NOT see that coming) and obviously does the most psychotic thing possible, leaving a copy of it in Ronnie's locker in an attempt to ruin Enid's life over a temporary and ultimately meaningless title.

Anyway, as expected, Ronnie breaks up with Enid, but not before getting all grabby in the car and being generally awful to her. While he's berating her about George, she covers her face with her hands while crying, so he "pried them away, forcing her to look at him. His fingers bit into her wrists, cutting off the circulation". What the HELL Ronnie!? Let go of her, you horrible fuckbag! Maybe Jessica was actually doing her a favour, in her own skewed, sociopathic way.

Over in sub-plot land, there's a rumour circulating around the school that foxy French teacher Miss Dalton is screwing Ken Matthews, one of her students. The rumour was started by Lila, because Miss Dalton is actually dating Lila's father so she's jealous due to her raging case of daddy issues. It all comes to a head when someone leaves a message on the classroom blackboard that reads: IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A FRENCH KISS IS, ASK KEN MATTHEWS. Which is so pathetic I'm amazed that the teacher herself didn't break her hole laughing at how lame it is. Instead she runs off crying and doesn't show up in school for a while.

Anyway, seeing as Elizabeth was the only person that knew about George, she gets the blame and Enid stops talking to her, which confuses Elizabeth no end. She confides in Jessica, who tells her that she's better off without Enid and then dashes off to a party at Lila Fowler's house to eyefuck Bruce Patman. How and ever, it turns out that Bruce is busy hanging out at a college party and apparently bringing a nineteen year old bird to the upcoming dance. I can't speak for anyone else, but when I was nineteen, I'd have been MORTO if I was going out with a sixteen year old boy. Anyway, when Jessica hears all this and realises that she wore her ribbed burgundy sweater dress (hot!) for nothing, she talks Ronnie into taking her to the dance, presumably so he'll swing the votes for Queen in her favour and with Bruce being a shoe-in for King, they'll totally hook up for lots of fun sexytimes. PROBLEM. SOLVED.

At school on Monday morning, Jessica tells Elizabeth that she'll talk to Enid in an effort to fix their friendship. Of course, seeing as Jessica is FUCKING INSANE, all she does is pretty much tell Enid that it WAS Elizabeth who ratted her out to Ronnie and then proceeds to twist the knife by telling her that Ronnie's being going around calling her a dirty whore since the breakup. Later that day, after hearing them on the phone, Elizabeth asks Jessica why she's going to the dance with Ronnie, so she passes it off as an attempt to get him back together with Enid. Oh, and this exchange all takes place while Elizabeth is doing her homework, which happens to be a paper on Julius Caesar. HEAVY HANDED METAPHOR ALERT, BITCHES.

The day of the big dance, the twins are instructed to clean their rooms and while doing so, Elizabeth discovers George's letter to Enid. Using her mad Jessica Fletcher skillz, she finally deducts that it was her unhinged sister that told Ronnie about George. Of course, instead of confronting her like a normal person, Elizabeth begins to plot her revenge. Seeing as the last book established her unique brand of crap vengeance, she's probably just planning to hide Jessica's hairbrush or something.

In the meantime, newly-single Enid has decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and go to the dance even though she no longer has a date. While she's getting ready, the doorbell rings and who should appear, only George all dressed up in a fancy blazer and slacks. He heard she was now single and conveniently, he's now a great big ride and is taking her to the dance so they shift the faces off each other. While her Mam is still there from what I can gather. Anyway, yay Enid!

At the dance, Enid apologises to Elizabeth and they make up. Elizabeth then spreads a rumour that Jessica is hot for nerdball Winston Egbert, the other nominee for Fall Dance King, so Jessica gets crowned Queen and to her horror, Winston is announced as King, and not Bruce like she expected. That's it. Elizabeth strikes again. Retaliation is definitely not her strong point. Oh and Miss Dalton turns up at the dance, has a bop with fellow hot teacher Mr. Collins and everyone just gets on with their lives with no need for an investigation into the salacious and potentially career-destroying rumour that was buzzing around. Yay sexy Miss Dalton!

Notable outfit:
"Tonight she was decked out in tight black velvet jeans, a pair of sparkly pink leg warmers and a purple satin blouse." 

Dana Larson, you glorious glam rock creature. NEVER CHANGE.

Special mention must go to Jessica and the trashiest swimsuit of all time, though:

"She wished she was at the beach instead, soaking up the rays in the bronze, wet-look, one piece she'd bought the week before at Foxy Mama."

A wet-look swimsuit. Jessica, you total GENIUS.

Things I counted:
Number of pages: 176
References to the twins' blue-green eyes: 4
References to the fact that the twins are blonde: 6
Eye colour mentions in general: 18
Mentions of the word "tears": 25

Sweet Valley Haul

Due to my current massive Sweet Valley High obsession and the discovery that almost every Dublin library copy of anything to do with The Glorious Wakefields was either worn out at some point in the nineties or checked out and NEVER RETURNED (shame on you, Dublin pre-teens from the nineties) I've taken to scouring charity shops for second hand Sweet Valley wonderfulness. I've actually been surprisingly lucky so far.


After two trips around various charity shops, I managed to snag the above books. Elizabeth's Secret Diary, which surely promises all manner of illicit thoughts but is most likely concerned with Elizabeth simpering over Todd. The Chateau d'Amour Collection, which is a three-books-in-one affair detailing Liz and Jessica's adventures as au pairs in the south of France for A ROYAL FAMILY. How ridiculously marvellous! There's also Big For Christmas, a rather battered Special Edition Sweet Valley Twins book which I almost didn't get, but decided to make an exception when I realised that the plot is actually that of Big or 13 Going On 30, starring the Wakefields. Seriously, it's about them wishing they were older and then waking up one Christmas morning to find that THEY'VE MAGICALLY GROWN UP. Francine, you are just the gift that keeps on giving, girlfriend. The recaps for these are going to be SO MUCH FUN.

As if I hadn't already struck it lucky with the above gems, I also happened upon a copy of Sweet Valley Confidential, the book that came out last year, set ten years after the old series.


But it wasn't just any copy. Oh no, my pretties, it was much more exciting than that. (For me anyway.) You see this was a proof copy and wasn't technically supposed to be sold at all. The cover is light blue with purple text, whereas the completed and actually for sale version has a pink cover with red text, or the totally different red cover, like these ones:


So the copy I currently own is SUPER COOL AND RARE and doesn't even have a dedication in place yet. I haven't read it yet, as I intend to do a bit more catching up on the SVH series and will save it until I run out of old books to read and review. It's going to be AMAZING.

Hey Girl

After completely forgetting to watch New Girl when it started on Channel 4 a few weeks ago, the Bear and I acquired all the episodes so far and happily ate them them all up over the course of a few evenings. It's no Community, but it's fun and cute and endearing, much like Jess, the new girl in question, played by indie hipster dreamgirl Zooey Deschanel.


Admittedly you have to get past the fact that everyone seems happy to pretend that Jess isn't actually ridiculously beautiful, but once you do, it's quite an enjoyable show. Although Schmidt gets most of the best lines and his bizarre, celebratory habit of rolling around on the floor and randomly jumping off things while shouting "Parkour!" totally cracks me up.


Another aspect that I like is the predictably gorgeous, liberally striped, polka-dotted and fun wardrobe that Jess has. I want everything she wears. And her magnificent hair too, please. I also totally dig the fact that she practically lives in flat shoes, as I own all of two pairs of (relatively low) heels and and for the most part, couldn't be fucked with the hassle of wearing them.


While I was doing a search for New Girl, a Sweet Valley Twins book called The New Girl kept popping up. Given my current Sweet Valley obsession, I immediately decided that I had to make this happen:

It's Not Easy Being Green

A recent article on Jezebel drew a comparison between Nicki Minaj's bizarre blue-skinned photoshoot for Vogue and the afterlife receptionist from Beetlejuice. I admit, I squeaked a little bit when I saw it first, for I have long harboured a love for that undead Miss Argentina and I think the picture of Nicki is brilliant, if completely bonkers.


I've posted about the beautiful turquoise Beetlejuice character here before, but I felt she merited a post all of her own, because I LOVE HER.


Hers was only a small role in the film, but for a character with a tiny amount of screen time, she makes a huge impression. She's just so MYSTERIOUS. Why is she bright turquoise? It's not a corpsey colour, it's too vibrant and lovely. There's another blue-tinged character in the afterlife waiting room - another favourite of mine - the showgirl who's been sawn in two. She's a lighter and slightly more corpsey colour (I'm determined to make corpsey a real word now) and has a great look of her own, but still doesn't come close to Miss Argentina in terms of general amazingness.


I love every bit of this character, the costume, the dark sense of humour, the bright red hair, the sparkley sixties sci-fi cape - OH MY GOD, I've just realised! SHE'S THE DESCENDANT OF AN ORION SLAVE GIRL!


I've cracked it! This explains the skin colour and the sci-fi outfit and the beehive! You guys, I'm a GENIUS! I talked about Orion slave girls in this Star Trek post and never made the connection until right this second. I am so delighted with myself right now, I just did a little dance in my chair.


ANYWAY. Now that I've solved that mystery completely by accident, the actual point of this post was to declare that THIS is going to be the year that I'm officially committing to the challenge of dressing up like her for Halloween. Now that I've said it here I have to do it. And now that I've gone and figured out her heritage, well, it'd be rude not to.