I once wore pixie short glasses and yellow rimmed hair

I haven't tried it yet, but when I turn 2 years above 25, I BETTER be making this. Admittedly, because the drink was made in my honor (especially after all my Dionysus impersonating from my megalomaniac Olympus episodes), I give this 5 stars.

Dirty Child Pirate is created by the amazing amazing Hope Swann (yes, that is her real name), after she's heard of my regular order of Cocoa Loco at Bona Coffee.

Cocoa Loco is a mug of glorious and rich hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and sprinkled with hot pepper flakes. I wouldn't have ordered it (srsly, there is SO MUCH stuff on their menu!) if I hadn't stormed in there told me: "I want something spicy!" so there.

Hope wasn't really happy about not having pepper flakes (in a supposedly complete kitchen such as hers), so she made this little wonder.

So, my little multiplies; I present to you....the Dirty Child Pirate!

1. half a cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips
2. 7/8 cup of milk
3. two bottlecaps of rum
4. a teaspoon of peanut butter

Melt chocolate chips in milk. Stir until simmering. Take off the flame, stir teaspoon of peanut butter in, then top off with rum. Enjoy with something salty for full unhealthy effect.

According to Hope Swann, the proper way to say that you're enjoying this drink is:

I am molesting a Dirty Child Pirate

Now I need me some RUM.

HOPE SWANN! Take some pikchurs of this chocolate moonshine!

I really was getting misty eyed right before we said grace. It was the best Christmas party I've ever been to.

Oh, and you have to be of a rather sensible resolve to slap Michael (on his arm) while inebriated. Eh kasi naman. Kontrahin ba naman ang pagkapogi niya! Hay que barbaridad!

My only regret is not seeing this CGI wonder in IMAX. It's meant to be seen with in a IMAX; however, 3-D spectacles withstanding, it still is quite a piece of work.

The screenplay is almost perfect, though. The writers gave an interesting take on the curious Christianity question and tied it up with Unferth. But laying the Christian mantle on Unferth still raises questions, if not eyebrows (slave brutality, the use of the "new" religion as a last resort and therefore the willingness to abandon the pagan Norse religion altogether).

Grendel's mother is now doomed to be known as Angelina Jolie. Shallow critics hail at how real Jolie looks without realizing that she jars the screen and sticks out way too much to be the accursed Grendel's mother. But I get the point though. Scholars point out how the monster's mother, by way of allegory and symbolism, represent the deepest darkest fears that any hero (or, again, by way of scholarly analyzing the entire lot) faces and must triumph over. The built in stilettos don't seem to work, though.

While reviews claim that anyone who liked 200 may like this, I beg to disagree but only to a certain point. 300 was really more about fighting for a cause that any given collective believes in to the point of giving their lives for it. Beowulf on the other hand is a hero's exploit. An individual's own adventure for greatness, proof of a primordial American Dream, if you will. Zemeckis however takes too much of an experimental thrust on something that attempts an introspective on a timeless hero. I blame that on the screenwriters. One reviewer aptly voices it this way: "hmm, here's a universally renowned piece of writing that has been immensely popular on both a widespread and perhaps scholarly level for 60/1000/3000 years. I surely have the skill and intellect to improve on it! What the hell did that Homer loser know that I didn't get out of USC?"

As for true brilliance of spectacle, it does measure up. No one really cares much for story, as the original has other epics embedded in it. I hope Zemeckis' next motion capture project takes on a better height. He seems to be getting better at this.

Okay. Those pictures of Jesus as advertised on my My Multiply sidebar? Seriously. What is up with that? That b&w one where you can barely see the Jesus' eyes is freaky. It scares me. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

See b&w pic with freakiness at the side. Nakakainis.

You know what, they don't make movies like this anymore. I grew up on really awesome stuff like "Mary Poppins," "Bedknobs and Broomsticks," and "Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang." Bedknobs stuck to me because of that awesome armor-coming-to-life scene, somewhat a reference in my mind for the recent "Night At The Museum" (although there are things that Museum falls short of; forgivable anyway).

The quality of production is awesome. Worlds reveal themselves through sets and costumes of this film, the same way that the designers of "Lord of the Rings" delivered.

My only qualm is that Claire Danes seems to be an iffy choice for Yvaine. She hardly affects the audience or the story and her presence is reduced to just a screen name. Her counterpart, Charlie Cox is very believable as his portrayal of Tristan Thorn develops and subtly turns into an honest hero. Robert de Niro is a delight to watch. He has emasculated himself on Saturday Night Live, but he plays Captain Shakespeare without playing this out too much to the audience.

Stardust is a must see. And I predict that this will be a classic years and years from now.

Three and half stars, really. Maybe three and three quarters and a big fat star even.

At first, the metaphors of following recipes and being all rigid about personal behavior are made clear. Kate the uptight chef is exactly that: uptight. As self-proclaiming as she is, she does have the culinary clout to be so, but it does get to you. Of course, being perfect as she is, she attempts to override her smart therapist and figures out that she is best at making stuff up, since all the rules she makes about her own propriety are easily pulled out of the air. Like Nick. Nick who loves Pavarotti. Nick who can make a safari party out of stuffed animal toys and pizza. Nick who can make an entire gourmet kitchen come alive.

This film is beyond the formulaic romantic comedy. For one, there is a lack of a love scene. I'm sick and tired of those. And besides, you don't NEED a bloody love scene to prove a point, er, spark.

I don't think most of the reviews that "No Reservations" gets online get this movie. Zeta Jones is supposed to be "unconvincing as...a human being." Eckhardt really is supposed to be bad at singing opera. I do agree on what most of these reviews point out to be ridiculous: the abundance of montages. But anyway..

The online review of this New York Times sums it up perfectly: "What’s unexpected and gratifying, though, is the film’s enlightened attitude toward parenthood and work, which the movie’s publicity campaign conspicuously glosses over, even though it’s the story’s driving force."

That is all I have to say =D

I hate finishing books in malls. The practicality of this disdain is that you're obligated to carry something useless around (shallow, I realize). Another reason is that...crying in public places makes for bizarre spectacle. Especially if the book you're reading is a tiny, bright orange-red thing. But aaaaanyway...

I love dogs. Our dog Jack the Talking Dog is a peculiarity and a real canine looker. The other dog Georgia the Introvert is such an introvert. But having a dog like Red Dog is like having a larger than life enigma for a pet. No one owns him, but was loved by everyone. He's managed to earn the love of the sternest dog-hater in the community. He's able to drive away corrupt national park stewards. He wandered across the nearby towns of Dampier (and probably Perth and beyond), gaining notoriety and affection among communities and not to mention pups bearing the same red signature fur. He even confused the town vet because a lot of other "owners" or members of the community he'd often crash with would take him from time to time to be checked on, making the poor vet think that everyone in Dampier had the same kind of dog. Red Dog lived until he was 11 when he died of cyanide poisoning as the people who cared for him helplessly watched him pass.

Red Dog is a real, actual dog, and Louis de Bernieres took the liberty of writing the famous canine's biography in spite of two others published previously (This dog is simply THAT famous). It's written as a series of short stories styled almost for children's literature especially in parts where Bernieres narrates the dog's point of view. Another notable characteristic in this book is Bernieres' ability to narrate in Australian dialect and slang. Which is why he includes a glossary at the back of Red Dog.

I cried at the end of the novel in spite of the fact that I already knew that Red Dog would die. While it is already established that Red Dog is someting to be reckoned with, you can't help but be a part of the people who remember this legendary canine who loved him as one of their own. Books make that happen to us anyway.

The opening credits were way too much, and the camera kept moving so much that I thought that I'd want to stand up and leave. Those and the meteorite thingy was a bit unbearable bordering on draggy. I thought that James Franco looked too stiff while a terrible Kirsten Dunst drudged her song down that staircase. But my complains were all for naught when Mary Jane's critics resonated with my observation, and Harry showed a full contrast from being dead to his anger to suddenly coming alive.

Was it just me or did Topher Grace look like Tobey McGuire? It may be just as well. Thomas Haden Church, even in sand form, brought the despair right in the ball park. And what of James Franco? He makes helping your friends look sexy.

The third installment of Spidey films brought Spiderman's humanity to a full circle. To begin with, he was the most "human," perhaps most "emotional" super hero out there (although I allow for those words to be contested), and in this movie, we see an anti-Peter Parker as he indulges Venom; even though we all know it's Tobey making fun out of himself, which we all love anyway. Yet this humanity is shown in every aspect of being a hero and a villain. Peter comes to grips and almost loses it when he learns about the death of his uncle. Eddie's desires disguises itself as a kind of humility that asks for something rather evil. Mary Jane's despair was as real as it goes from trying to pick up from bad review to being the girlfriend of an impossibly happy boyfriend. Flint was heartbreaking, and so was Spiderman's forgiveness for him. And I'm thakful that Harry finally stopped being a drama queen, one more ways than one.

This movie is commendable for showing three major villains without one upstaging the other, while the superhero becomes villainous himself. It's humanity. You gotta love it.

"Blue Like Jazz" is really under the religion and spirituality genre, it has the subtitle that goes along the line of "A nonreligious point of view of Christianity." I've been hunting for this book for months, and seeing it in a National Bookstore, I had no time for second thoughts. Don Miller grapples with the relevance of Christianity in these current times (like Rob Bell at his Mars Hill), and he strips Christianity down to the basics: love (which is all that matters). Don Miller doesn't really have a set theology by which he outlines his chapters and ideas. He just writes it as it is, presenting Christianity in its rawest, purest form because in a world that heralds the artificial and fleeting, relevance has to be found in the simplest form.