Dave Lizewski (Kick-Ass): I always wondered why no-one did it before me. I mean, all those comic books, movies, TV shows... you think that one eccentric loner would've made himself a costume. I mean, is everyday life really so exciting? Are schools and offices so thrilling that I'm the only one who fantasized about this? Come on, be honest with yourself, at some point in our lives we all wanna be a superhero. Featuring... Hit Girl.
Herman Blume: What's the secret, Max? Max Fischer: The secret? Herman Blume: Yeah, you seem to have it pretty figured out. Max Fischer: The secret, I don't know... I guess you've just gotta find something you love to do and then... do it for the rest of your life. For me, it's going to Rushmore.
Herman Blume: What's the secret, Max? Max Fischer: The secret? Herman Blume: Yeah, you seem to have it pretty figured out. Max Fischer:
The secret, I don't know... I guess you've just gotta find something
you love to do and then... do it for the rest of your life. For me, it's
going to Rushmore
Well let me tell you.
I used to LOVE McDonald's french fries. When I was young we used to stop at McDonalds on the way to the cottage. I lived for this. I was a fussy eater growing up. But I loved those fries. But they had to have ketchup.
My father was aware of my shyness and was trying to give me little challenges overcome my timidness. My challenge was the same one every time we made this trip.
My Dad would order for all off us. We would return to our table I would be eagerly awaiting my thin salty fries and then I would realize all the ketchup had been spoken for.
You have to be kidding me.
I was to ask the McDonald's cashier for the ketchup myself. My whole family was in on this. No need to even ask if they would spare me a packet. I hated fries without ketchup. I put on a brave face and walked towards the counter.
I made eye contact with the employee and she looked really annoyed. I quickly turned on my heels and head back to the table. I held out my hands for the car keys. (I was not going to eat fries without ketchup, plus I failed the challenges.) I retreat to our car. Looking up at the sign of how many million have been served I wonder if they ask for ketchup for their fries all on their own.
I would like to let everyone know that I am no longer shy at all. I can't remember when I overcame it but I know it was a very slow process. I still get tongue tied and nervous, but my fries always have ketchup.
I have watched the series The Sopranos in it's entirety 3 times.
Goodfella's and Casino probably 30 times. And don't forget the Godfather movies. And American Gangster...too many to list.
As a entrepreneur I find Tony Soprano inspiring. Gangsters are completely committed to their jobs. They are extremely ambitious. They find new and creative ways to make money. These guys don't get a day off.
Not to much different then the indie art-craft scene:)
My Nanny (my Grandmother) was a dancer in Paris in the 1940's.
In her days of retirement she had a dance floor in her basement of her tiny house.
When I was little she had little pint size costumes made for me.
Fact number 4.
My father was a psychologist. Everyone always though this was really cool. Having that resource living under the same roof. A life with out any problems that couldn't be solved...
OK let's return to the exploits of Little Lucky.
I am in grade school at a friends house for a pool party. I grew up in the 70's the decade of the gigantic jug of koolaid busting into the scene when ever there is kids around.
We never had koolaid at our house. Needless to say I made up for lost time.
Back to the pool... do you see where this is going?
Yes I peed in the pool. This wasn't something I would regularly do at a party but my bladder was full of a couple of litres of grape koolaid. The bathroom was all the way inside the house. I don't think I would have made it if I had to ask directions. So I relieved myself in my friends pool.
An announcement was made by the party host that she could tell if anyone peed in the pool as a mysterious ring would appear and that she had witness one that day. My face began to burn. She knows... they all know. I quickly got on my terry shorts, grabbed my bike and headed home tears streaming down my face.
Upon my arrival at home my father came to my room to see what was wrong.
"Something terrible! I can't tell you!"
he prods further (remember this is what he does for a living)
"Dad. I need one of those pills that you give your people."
my father seems confused
"The people that you help with their problems. I need one of those pills."
My father seems even more confused.
"The pills that make people forget bad stuff that happened to them."
My father then went on to tell me that he doesn't prescribe medicine..only a psychiatrist could ... and that such a pill doesn't exist.
Did I want to talk about it?
No I think I am going to see if someone at school has a father that is a psychiatrist.
In Loving Memory of my father Dr. Barry Jackson. Who might have not have had a magic pill but who had the magic voice of reason and who solved a great deal of "problems" in his lifetime.
The Grandfather of Psychology and of no personal relation.
3. I am adopted and thought that I was a princess.
I am adopted. I also have red hair and a ton of freckles. Growing up I was teased a lot about my hair and freckles and I hated both. My mother was a beautiful Greek woman with olive skin and shiny black hair. I thought she looked like a movie star.
To help me like my red hair my Mom got me to watch Rita Hayworth movies. I become obsessed. I got books about her from the library. Then my mother said the words that would change everything. "When you grow up you are going to look just like her!".
What? What are you telling me? So it's her? Then I did the math. She would have been 53 years old. Nope. I had to search deeper . Did she have a daughter? Yes! Princess Yasmin Aga Khan. She would have been 22 when I was born. I think we have a winner! After a bit more sleuthing this 7 year old had her proof. A picture of her with Margot Trudeau... A CANADIAN! I Jenny Jackson the daughter of a princess. My parents were a bourgeois cover up.
I kept the secret over a year . But after a scolding I felt was not deserved , they needed to know that the jig is up. Once again my Mother is laughing hysterically . "Barry get in here!!". My Dad enters the room.
"Did you know that we were living with royalty?" I have never heard my parents laugh as long or as hard as they did that day. My mom was laughing so hard she was in tears.
My Grandmother that never was (? a girl can dream right?)
I apologize for my absence yesterday. Kicking a cold's butt.
Continuing on the them "7 things you might not know about me" be prepared to be not blown away. I am a pretty dull dame. I always read these lists on other people's blogs and love them. If I disappoint you with my uneventful list I apologize. I have resolved to be a more exciting person this year (so my next list will blow you away;).
2. I Used To Have a Huge Phone Phobia.
Completely true. I think I have just gotten over this in the last 2 years.
It all started when my Mom and brother were sick. I was about 5 or 6. The phone rang (old school rotary... this is before answering machines and call display). My Mom asked me to answer it. I had never answered a phone before and was an extremely shy girl. The phone rang once, twice a third time. "Answer the phone!" my Mom commanded. So nervously I picked up the receiver. A long pause and then a man's voice said "Hello... Hello??". I whispered "hi". "Is Jimmy there?" came from the man on the phone. I do not know why this man is calling looking for Jimmy. He repeats himself again. I look at my Mom and brother and ask them "Is Jimmy here?". Howls of laughter from the formerly-too-sick-to-answer-the-phone crowd. The man on the phone is becoming really irate. My brother and my Mom cannot stop laughing which is not helping. I finally tell the man "No". To which he responds by asking if I am %$#& retarded? and then hangs up.
And so began my long fear of answering the phone. I have to say that such a phone call never repeated itself. Sure I have had the odd prank phone call. But nothing scared me more than that guy looking for Jimmy.
I was obsessed with the Beatles growing up. Obsessed. My father who was a huge music buff totally supported my infatuation with them. He did not support though, my affinity towards my favourite Beatle.
Girls love Paul because he was obvious. Cute, somewhat funny? John Lennon got all the deep cerebral girls. George got the hippie chicks.
I loved myself some Ringo Starr.
I like the guys that can make fun of themselves. The goofy ones. The one that will make you laugh for the rest of your life.
My apologies for my absence yesterday. I was quite sick with a fever and chills and all the other nasty stuff that you feel when you are ill. I told my husband after my marathon nap that I was going to go downstairs and work on an embroidery but I got my marching orders to go back to bed. At this point I was seeing double so we have to all thank him that I didn't get a needle or scissors in my hands.
I started feeling better today and I have for you a double header.
The first features one of my faves as you probably know. Brigitte Bardot. "Contempt".