Like puzzle pieces from the clay

Last night I watched A Better Tomorrow II, or 英雄本色 2 in Hong Kong. (Wikipedia/IMDb) and it was great.
It tended to be a bit hard to follow – it started with ballroom dancing and beards, grew into police infiltration of crime organisations, flew over to New York for some hilarious “EAT THE FUCKING RICE, GUILAO” (I’m paraphrasing ruthlessly) at gunpoint (in response to a protection racket) and then had some mind-losing.

But don’t worry, it turns into a bloodbath.  Really.  It’s like the Matrix Lobby Scene with more blood and Asians.
So, shotguns are awesome, Asians are awesome, rice is awesome.  Oh, and this is where The Matrix got the Trinity-sliding-down-stairs-shooting sequence.

There’s money-printing, force-feeding, dancing, badly dubbed white people, and Chow Yun Fat.

I think we should all see it.  I liked it a lot, it was great fun.  I wouldn’t say it was my favourite film, or anything near it.
“You no like my rice” is hilarious. There are other funny bits too, naturally.
But it reminds us that one of the few good things to come from the 80s (in addition to Tetris, Rick Astley, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) is action films where cars explode like that.
*clicks fingers illustratively*

The other night we had Burritos.  Eventually, the resident Chinese homestays Matthew and Timber (yes, like ‘wood’) loaded the tortillas with rice.  Tim quite likes drenching everything in tomato sauce.
Anyway, rice.

I was going to blag about other things; being introduced to awesome and shockingly close places by Brendan and the state my bike is in.
Also, moats, lilies, haze and such.

I haven’t been blagging much, actually. I never really feel the urge to – I only do it when it’s just there.
You’ll notice from my growing Blagroll that more and more of my friends are succumbing.

Peace, I’m out (segues are for losers).
Time for sleep.  I love sleep.

What fine veins you have

Like some sort of premium cheese.  I am a closet Belgian.

So I went to donate blood today.  Through sickness, dictatorial parents deciding that blood is important during exams, and other engagements, everyone pulled out except Fi and I.  Hmm.  Australia is a country where you are not paid for doing this, so we get to feel good about ourselves.

Well, the people there are very thorough, very friendly, and very efficient.
I have good iron levels, blood pressure, and all of that.  Hooray? I also pass all of the probing questionnaires about drugs, transfusions, illness, man-to-man sex, prostitution, time spent in foreign lands, time spent in Queensland.

The vampire guy … um.  They are all registered nurses, I think, and they are there to bleed you for an excellent cause.  I’m not saying that they consume the blood, oh no.
Anyway, I nominated my left arm, as that is my less used of the two.  I am more comfortable with a thin piece of metal being stuck into that.  After pressure was applied by the armband and I pumped the “foam thing” in my fist for a while, any veins that are theoretically present in my arm were still efficiently stealthed.
So we went to my right arm, where at last, my fine veins were found! They extracted just bit of blood out of me, and then the needle slipped through the vein in question, and flow ceased.  So they stopped.  They will find out my blood type, and that shall probably be all.

“Yes, I have had plenty to drink today.”
-For me.  Some days I do not drink at all, and do not feel thirst.  Sometimes I have 8 glasses of water.  By this time of day, I had had more than usual, but probably less than recommended.  Oh, I’m unhealthy; bicycle commuting and teetotalism aside.
But that is not all: my mother says my veins were very difficult to locate as an infant, when I was submitted to hospital for seizures.

As far as my rambles go, this one was less amusing than I expect of myself.  And I like to think I’m a man with very realistic expectations.  Oh, forgive me for not entertaining you.

I’ll just continue to string you along with not particularly engaging half-stories and the promise of an eventual laugh, and hope for a cult following.  Oh, those would be the driest acolytes ever.

And by this, do not think I am promising either consistency or variation.  We shall see.

Ethics, politics, Little Bear and computer games can wait indefinitely.  I owe these subjects nothing.
NOTHING.