Rant all you want about Ben Stillers comical talent or supposed lack thereof, but the man manages to make me roll over the floor with laughter just about every pulp film he acts in, from Zoolander to Dodgeball. The themes are absurd, but there’s no denying his timing and facial muscle control. Thank God Christmas will bring Meet The Fockers.
As I trotted from the train to the bike shelter, I bumped into in bunch of cops and security staff guarding the shelter. They’d barricaded the entrance, staring grimly at passengers. Turns out some punk set fire to a motorcycle over the weekend, almost taking down the bike shelter. My trusted old fellow was covered in black ashes. Luckily the train staff, always prepared to assist, had provided an entire roll of toilet paper for people to scrub at least their handles.
Who does stuff like that? Some 16 year old with a grudge against a friend as the latter stole his girlfriend? A homeless using gasoline to heat his wiener? As Nick Cave put it: People ain’t no good.
I was hungy sunday evening, walking back to the train. I’d just seen my granddad, slowly sliding away towards eternal hunting grounds. He’s trapped inside a hollow cathedral where thoughts run away at the speed he tries to catch them.
I stopped for a slice of pizza at the train station. 20 Seconds later a homeless tried to talk me into a Euro for food. No thanks. 50 Cent? He glimpsed at my slice and tried: A piece of pizza? It may have been my feeling of helplessness seeing my grandfather that made me want to help the homeless, though not to alcohol or drugs. I tore my slice in two and made the man smile.
So 100 meters further I stopped for a meatball, to round up my dinner. Riding home chewing meatball I tried to imagine I was in New York already. Stopping for food at street vendors, harmless freaks in the sub. How different is New York from Brussels and Antwerp?
Go see Gegen Die Wand. That is indeed not a suggestion, it’s an order. You can’t miss this raw portrait of 2 people in search an identity. If you happen to live in Antwerp, try Cartoons cinemas. People sit still without eating, it’s refreshing.
Can I bring you anything from New York, apart from a shirt shouting: “My friend went to New York and all he blew was cash“?
That’s right kids, I’m off to the States after a nice long 5 days of just sleeping. I’m paying a rib and two golden teeth to go on a 10-day city-sniffing-trip. Now sod off, I’ve got a Lonely Planet to read. Hey look: Manhattan is an island!
The pretty marketing boyz ‘n girlz at Fashion outlet Marc ‘o Polo sure know how to throw a party to open a new store. There was about one appetizer-girl per visitor and gallons of Wodka-based cocktails to wash them away with. Now that I’ve disovered dancing in a fancy suite with a messed up haircut gets the cameras on your face, my television career is sure to jumpstart.
I’m once more a man of the world, able to speak of the things that matter, feeling the vibe of what goes on and changes the very basis of society.
I’ve bought series 1 of The Office. And I’m starting to think it’ll be cheaper in the long run to get cable instead of hire and buy all the good TV series. Still rolling over the floor with laughter though.
Cheap bastards at the Leffinge-Leuren movie festival send one lousy invitation to their festival. Great, like I’m gonna consider splitting 20 euro for a second one to take a pal and see my own work on the big screen. Indeed: this blog entry will be removed if I shound win one of the prices 
We just might have to change Southpark quote “Oh my God: they killed Kenny!” into “Oh My God, Kenny killed them!” after drinking the last pint at the bar with Scottish bartender Kenny, who demonstrated the use of his 2 by 2 wooden club on dissatisfied customers. Man with strong principles.
