Rants & Raves of Jasmine’s Fiction

When it comes to the world of shiny superheroes (and supervillains), I’m a huge fan.  It’s true that some purist out there will think that I’m full of shit because I don’t collect 1^st editions and use gloves and tweezers to handle my glossies, but heck, I love comic books.

Yep.  I love comic books.  Or if you really want to be PC; Graphic Novels.   (Fine, I know that as a girl I’m not supposed to like these things but to heck with social norms.)  There’s just something about the uniformity, the layout, and all those sleek designs on glossy paper.  Not to mention how art and words fuse in perfect harmony into wonderful stories – so be it 30 years past or 30 years hence, we will (still) be enjoying comic books.  Sorry, Graphic Novels.

Seriously.  How else could we possibly fall in love with blind homicidal vigilantes (Daredevil); orphaned billionaire womanisers with genius intellects that spends all their free time when not fighting crime and indulging in their vices inventing cool stuff (Batman & Iron Man) and geeky nerds accidentally bestowed with apocalyptic powers trying desperately to cope with life (Spiderman & Hulk)?  How else can everyone in those imaginary worlds be perfectly built (ripped muscles, perfectly formed limbs, gorgeous faces and other uh, assets) and how else can super twisted evil geniuses take over the world?

And lkets face it.  Without comics graphic novels where would-Hollywood-find ideas on what movies to make?  Just Marvel Comics alone have spawned several blockbusters – Blade, Spiderman, X-Men (trilogies); Fantastic 4, Hulk, Punisher (duologies); Daredevil, Elektra, Ghost Rider, and the new and upcoming Iron Man.   DC Comics gave us Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Batman, (and the rest of the Justice League), V For Vendetta, Constantine, Teen Titans, Catwoman, League of Extraordinary Gentleman and Road To Perdition. 

I don’t even have to mention (but I will) Frank Miller’s fantastic artwork in his stories like 300 and-Sin-City-and his Robocop and Dark Knight. 

And please don’t tell me that comics are only for kids!  If you feel that way, go do yourself a favour and go pick up the original 300 and you tell me if you will let your kids read stuff like that.  If that’s too much for you, you can ask my mother to lend you her Modesty Blaise series.  :D  Its definitely lighter fare than a lot of the Dark Horse Comics stuff but its still geared towards adults. 

Of course its true that comics started out as child entertainment (back in the days before we had colour TV and iPods and X-Boxes) and there are many ‘kiddie’ comics that I still enjoy till today like Richie Rich, MAD, Beeno, Archie, Asterix & Obelix and the more family oriented ones like Zits, Pickles, Calvin & Hobbs , Peanuts, Garfield etc.  But for me, nothing quite beats the shiny superheroes & evil supervillains.

I recently rediscovered my interest for billionaire industrialist alcoholic womanising inventor Tony Stark or better known as The Invincible Iron

Man.

  In the light of all the recent hype over Superman and Batman, I forgot what the Avengers use to be like for me when I was little with Captain America leading the fore with his shield against BlackWidow from the Cold War, the caustic S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Nick Fury and of course, the mysterious Iron Man in his power suit.

So last month when my hubby brought back home the Ultimate Avengers, (re-imagined to fit today’s society, technology, mindset and scenarios) I devoured both DVDs like I was 8 years old again with my first glossy copy of Captain America & The Mighty Avengers.  And just last weekend I managed to find some time to watch the animated version of The Invincible Iron Man (vs. my favourite villain, The Mandarin).

What’s not to like about him?  Aside from the womanising alcoholic part.  And the arrogant, disrespectful, egotistical part.  And the single minded industrialist part.  And the weapons maker part.  And the slightly psychotic, mommy attachment issues part.

Flawed superheroes that are actually human intrigue me more than the super meta humans / mutants / aliens etc.  Why?  Because I feel that flawed humans not only have to battle evil villains but their own demons as well.  And Tony Stark has to be one of the most flawed of superheroes. 

Orphaned at a young age when his parents died from faulty brakes in a car accident, the young 15 year old MIT Electrical Engineering grad’s first project upon inheriting Stark Enterprises was to buy off that car company and fix the faulty problem.  Fast forward several years and he’s off-in-Afghanistan-to-introduce his new missile design when the air force unit he is travelling with is ambushed and he is taken hostage with a serious injury – shrapnel lodged in his heart.

Forced to build weapons for the enemy, he instead, builds himself a bulletproof power suit complete with pacemaker, artificial heart and flamethrowers and uses it to escape and once he’s back home, he advances the design to include jet propelled flight abilities and a MASSIVE arsenal of weaponry AND, he paints it red and gold.  PRETTY!  He’s my kind of superhero – flawed, inventive, with no superhuman abilities to speak of but he can hold his own, with change to spare.

And I guess I really like Tony Stark because in all the comics and animations he looks like the sexiest man alive:  Oded Fehr. PHWARRR.  Unfortunately, in the new upcoming Iron Man movie (summer 2008), Robert Downey Jr. will be playing him.   Small consolations.

So now, while I await with bated breath for my hero to appear on the silver screen, I’m going back to my glossies. And my oogling of the sexiest man alive.  Enjoy folks!

Oh yeah baby. Bring on the flesh eating zombies and let the brains get flying. This past weekend my hubby brought home a very awful bootleg copy of the newest and third instalment of one of the better zombie movies; Resident Evil: Extinction. Milla Jovovich returns-as-Alice-and-this time she teams up with a bunch of humans on a convoy in a post-apocalyptic world.

As always, most zombie movies are loaded with bullets, gore, truckloads of blood, half eaten brains of the helpless victims and lots of eye candy. Unless of course, the zombie movie you are watching is Paris Hilton’s sex tape, in which case minus all the above except the half eaten brains part.

So Resident Evil: Extinction had all the good bits – graphic shots of people getting mangled, zombies getting shot and blown up, Ali Larter in a tank top, Milla opening several cans of zombie whoopass, and the sexiest MAN alive – Oded Fehr.  OH.  MY. GOD.

Move over Orlando Bloom you pansy momma’ s boy. This is a real MAN!  I mean, seriously.  Look at all that yummy manliness.  Woo.  AND, he’s got a sexy voice.

Okay.  So back to the zombie movie.  This is 5 years after-Raccoon-City-in-Resident Evil: Apocalypse where the zombie making virus has travelled across the globe and basically killed of or zombie-fied all humans, turning earth into a desert wasteland at the brink of extinction. The convoy are what remains of the survivors as they scavenge their way across the country in search of supplies and other survivors.  Led by Claire Redfield (Ali Larter in a tank top) and Carlos Olivera (more yummy manliness) they do their best to protect everyone till-Alice-joins them.

Of course, as with all zombie movies, lots of mindless deaths and several heroic sacrifices are part and parcel to the storyline and Extinction is no different. The best one had to be when Carlos goes down in a blaze of glory in a dynamite loaded gasoline truck, toking on a fatty.  My obsession with sexy Oded Fehr aside; that exit is quite high up the list of ultimate character endings.

And so movie ends-with-Alice-kicking more steroid induced super zombie butt, and then setting up for the next Resident Evil movie. There is no end to it.  I think the only thing that will really sad for me if Resident Evil 4 comes out would be the fact that they already killed off Carlos, so no more Oded Fehr. L  Sadness.

So now, I’m going to go dig through my extensive DVD collection and drag out The Mummy & The Mummy Returns for more Oded Fehr as Ardeth Bay the Medjai.  Phwwarrrr.  Seriously.  This man brings sexy back.  Enjoy the pics folks.

As the impending doom date approaches at the speed of light, I find myself constantly at the end of my temper fuse.  And I can’t help but feel that somedays everyone out there has turned stupid to royally PISS me off to add to the whole stressed situation that is very quickly turning me into a seething pile of Mad Cow PMS.

But my sister did also point out that due to the whole stress thing I’m also becoming more unreasonable. To the point where I’m demanding impossible things to be possible.  I tell her it’s a Catch 22.  If stupid people didn’t piss me off, I wouldn’t get so angry and start yelling and making ridiculous stipulations of said stupid people so they can fix their fuck-ups and make things up to me.

It’s true.  I’m not saying that I’m completely not at fault. I have a short fuse and I do blow up frequently and I’m a vindictive grudge bearer. However, if people didn’t so often give me a reason to be in Mad Cow PMS mode, I’m normally a happy person. 

But see, there’s THESE dumb fucks I have to deal with:

There’s the slow as a 3 toed sloth in straitjacket restaurant manager who can’t get anything till it is literally drawn out for him down to the guts, in 3 languages. Then there’s the dumbass bitch of a hotel assistant manager, who is so badly trained and stupid that she cannot apologise to my face for royally fucking up my bill, till I ripped her and her boss a new asshole, and even then she’s insincere. And I cannot forget my clear as mud dressmaker who, after 21 months of description, pictures & diagrams STILL can’t get my dress right. Then there’s the soon to be ex-friends on the invitee list who cannot confirm attendance for whatever lame reasons and still giving me the run-around. And I can barely get a grip on myself when I think about the wankers that my folks have invited who demand whole tables for themselves and their uninvited offsprings/parents/whores escorts dates and insists on being seated at prime tables.

So lets be honest; is it really awful of me to demand for gratis stuff from the caterers?  Is it really unreasonable that I want free upgrades for all the pain and suffering I went through with my bank because the hotel massively overcharged me? Am I a horrible person because I demanded that my dressmaker replace me a new dress because she can’t make me what I want after 21 months of alterations?  Am I going to hell if I cut out indifferent and self centred (soon to be ex-)friends when they can’t give me a straight yes or no when the event is only 3 weekends away?

Anyway, I can feel my blood pressure rising again and I really don’t want to have another tear my hair out session so I’m just going to leave it here.

With a cute cartoon.  Enjoy folks.  May you find it as Deja Moo as I do.  :D  After all, that really does remind me of me.

Okay, I think I’ve had a fatal seizure and I’m now in heaven because I just found THIS!!! Oh My Sugary Carb Sweetness!!! 

THIS IS A SUGARED DOUGHNUT TOPPED COFFEE LIQUEUR CUPCAKE!!! With Whipped Cream.

This is it folks.  There IS a cupcake heaven and I’ve found it.

Folks, I have a serious issue now with a certain food that I am CERTAIN was made by the devil.  No, I’m not talking about doughnuts.  I’m talking about these:

Yummy mouthfuls of creamy, buttery sweetness.  Looking oh-so-pretty and colourful, CUPCAKES brighten up my day.  Why?

As far as I’m concerned, cupcakes are democratic, fair and (almost) guilt free. You serve cupcakes at a party, everyone gets one, no need to wait awkwardly for the unevenly hacked off slice and no need to lament or listen to said laments of “oh its too much, I only want a small slice etc.” Cupcakes can be finished in a matter of 1 bite (if you are like my husband) or many little bites (if you are like me). You don’t share cupcakes (unless you are weird) and you don’t have to be wracked with guilt because seriously, cupcakes are tiny. And if there’s extra, you can go back for seconds without looking like a greedy bastard. And did I mention they look oh-so-pretty?

Of course there’s more to cupcakes than just aesthetics. There’s a cupcake out there to suit every taste from the sweet to the fruity to the savoury. I know that there are vegan and lacto / gluten / flour / egg / nut / etc free cupcakes and even cupcakes for the diabetic. Not forgetting that cupcakes come in different sizes from the supersizeme gargantuan monstrosities the size of a bowling ball (for the hardcore crazies) to the mini little inch wide cuties (for the calorie conscious) – there’s something to please everyone.  Don’t believe me?  Give a cupcake to a toothless 90 year old, a cynical 50 year old and a grabby 2 year old. All will be equally happy at receiving and eating the cupcake.  And buying cupcakes doesn’t break the bank.

So back to the pretty part.  I like how cupcake makers take great pains not to just slap on frosting and be done with it. You can personalise cupcakes, be creative and make little works of art.  Like these little lovelies.

However I will draw the line at this US$500.00 cupcake. As my sister so aptly put it, there’s a sucker born every minute.

But this one, this is my favourite.  This is carb on carb cannibalism at its best.  It’s a cupcake eating a cookie.  And when YOU eat this cupcake… You get both the cupcake AND the cookie. What’s not to like about that? 

Ok that’s enough talk folks. There’s a yellow buttermilk with blue butter frosting cupcake that’s calling my name right about now. Oh and folks?  Please don’t ask me what my wedding cake will look like. I’m sure you already know.