Five-word Reviews: Avengers: Age of Ultron

Version 1: Entertaining, politically astute superhero action-fest.

Version 2: Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow rocks! 

Version 3: Geek-tastic sequel with sufficient nerd-bait.

The Modern World Disgusts Me: Part IV...

I was accused on 'Not caring about the little people' the other day...
'You've changed since you became a big shot,' sneered a colleague.

I pondered her comments then offered the following response.
'I may have changed, but that's because I'm now trying to ensure the survival of the project I'm working on, so fuck-headed twats like you, who do nothing but whine like arse-slapped children, will continue to have a job and not have to sell their, frankly, too-much-junk-in-the-trunk arses for past-their-sell-by-date Findus crispy pancakes, because they no longer have an income to put food on the table. Because, to be frank, no other cunt will employ you. Ever. Even for menial work like giving suckjobs to tramps to give the proper whores a rest. 
'And, for your further information, I don't dislike you or your kith and kin because I consider you to be little people. I don't really consider you at all. Fact. And if I didn't like you, it wouldn't be because I'm a snob. It would be because I'm regional facist and I don't like people like you, who come from wherever you come from. Wherever that fucking shithole is? What's that? Manchester? Well I don't like Manchesterians. The place probably doesn't even fucking well exist and, if it does, it's just probably a small village where the inhabitants all fuck each other and have kids with 13 fingers. So cunt the fuck off.'

The office went a bit quiet after that. I may also not have said any of those things. Just thought them. Or imagined them as part of a future comedy routine...

Wife of the Year in Our House Award...

It was my birthday a few days ago and Mrs Brooks again put herself in pole position for The Wife of the Year in Our House Award with her present: an antique print from 1870 by Japanese artist Kunitoshi Utagawa.

I am beyond stunned. She is beyond brilliant.

The Modern World Disgusts Me: Part III...

The Fast and the Furious film franchise has released a seventh instalment. Yes. Seven. That's correct. Four more films than the Godfather trilogy and, currently, one more than the Star Wars franchise. How the fuck did that happen? Are there really that many Top Gear fans who smoke crack and imagine they're Vin Diesel. Or one of the other ones?

Thank god they didn't get hold of Police Academy and extend that movie past the first one.

Little Changes...

My next martial arts grading at hapkido involves using a short wooden stick called a tahn bong. 

Using it is quite difficult and, after learning an eight-strike pattern, there's a seven-block pattern, plus freestyle striking and blocking, plus a whole host of other techniques to counter punches and kicks, and throw people, and choke them. It's quite difficult.

I struggled with the initial striking pattern for months, but I decided the easiest way to improve at this was to break it down and routine the training into bite-sized chunks. 

So every day I'm at work, I take a ten-minute break in the afternoon and do at least 150 strikes or blocks. Since I started this, I figure I've now done 12 weeks by five days by 150 strikes/blocks per day, which means about 9,000 strikes/blocks in total. 

And it's helping matters, too, so I'm going to adopt this tactic of doing a little thing every day in other areas. I've finished lots of writing work over the past few years by utilising my commuting time and that produced dividends. I may adopt a wrestling drill and see how that goes, too. 

Big improvement can be built in little spaces.

Five-word Reviews: Wild Tales

Bizarre, brilliant, twisted revenge stories.

Moments...

It is Friday morning. I am laid in bed with the Missus. 

We are curled up. It is quiet, apart from the purring of the cat on the end of the bed. Regardless of anything else that happens today, or in days to come, this moment won't be lost. It will be logged in the memory banks with all the other moments I cherish. This is called being present.

About 20 minutes later, I am in the bath. The Missus enters and looks around, before commenting:
'The bath's too full and there's water all over the floor. What have you been doing?'
'I was relaxing...'
'Well can you do it less messily?' 
'No. I can't. Fuck off.'

Of course, I didn't say that last thing. My head and thoughts were still enjoying the bed bit...