The Biscuit Barrel

Silliness, or a deep metaphor for modern angst?

Posts Tagged ‘love

The trench-coat adoration post

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My old trenchcoat, not as cool and the picture is meh, but I'd rather not steal something from the internet.

I imagine you can guess what my favorite bit of clothing is, what with it being in the title of this thing. It sometimes switches to tweed but all in all I think the trench-coat is the defining work when it comes to my personal ideas  and style.

It all started a few (3?) years ago when is started reading Hellblazer. It took me a few good months to read the whole collection of hellblazer and by the end I almost started smoking. It seemed natural that I should. Then again at this point I might mention that I’m pretty easy to influence by awesomeness and John Constantine is nothing if not awesome. But I’m not gonna start smoking. It’s not my thang`. I find it disgusting even in others, though I try to respect their choices and not let them know how much it sickens me to smell that thing. Me, I like tic-tacs.

Anyway… I wasn’t gonna start smoking, but I must take something away from all of that and what i got, it turns out is a very deep love of trench-coats. Not just any trenchcoat, It must be the perfect trench-coat. It must be beige. It must be appropriately long, It must have a pretty solid material that doesn’t look like all shit and it must have proper shoulders, epaulettes and all the other beautiful things that make trench-coats so gloriously bad-ass. If you don’t get what I’m saying just ask Bogart, Constantine, Dr Strange, The Spirit or any other trenchcoat wearing bad-ass. But this is real life. We don’t get clothes that can change shape and style from one panel to the next so we have to do our best to get the perfect one if we want to exude the right attitude. I am not a sleuth or a spy or a wizard. I’m a photographer and usually i look like one (the giant camera is a big hint) but sometimes i wanna be a wizard. And then the trench-coat comes in. It makes me feel like a wizard. It helps me be misterious and it has the exact amount of flutter behind me that i need. Plus it protects me from the cold and the rain. What could be better? A duster? I’m sure Harry Dresden would say so, but then again he can wear whatever he wants.

The point is that I have found the perfect trenchcoat a few months back. It’s the most money I’ve ever spent on clothes and I’d do it again in a heartbeat because i feel as though it defines me and my moods. I love autumn, I love autumn so hard right now because it’s the perfect time to wear my trenchcoat through the deep fog of Timisoara’s evenings and pretend to brood and be misterious.

If one feels like a wizard, one is a wizard.




Written by CyberFaust

ianuarie 4, 2012 at 8:13 pm

PRofesional rant

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Sa-mi bag splina in nevastuicile vietii.  Cata lipsa de seriozitate si profesionalism. Curat misel. Iaca aci o parabola despre de ce lumea e naspa si lipsita de respect si alte chestii elementare care io personal le consider necesare in societate. Daca nu respect macar frica. Daca nu frica macar ura. Iubire si severitate, nu dragoste si moleciune. Cum zicea profesorul meu de istorie din clasa a 9-a inainte sa ne dea 1 in catalog.

Iaca asa ca cica is fotograf, nu zic io ca is mare artist in viata ca is foarte departe de asa ceva dar imi place sa cred ca sunt pe drumul spre bucata aia de artistenie (daca nu exista cuvantul naspa pentru el). Iaca ase ca fac chestii, care cum va sa zica, fac poze pentru chestii ca chestii nu stiu sa fac. In legatura cu aia sunt incompetent dar cum majoritatea oamenilor nu pot sa faca chestii nu ma simt foarte frustrat de asta. Oricum, sa nu deviez mult. Ideea e ca fac poze, pe la evenimente, pe la concerte, daca sunt platit super daca nu e posibil sa do it anyway for a piece of cake, un suc sau macar putin respect, un te rog si un multumesc la sfarsit cand termin chestia si le pica falca cand vad cat de faine sunt pozele (asta mai rar).

Deci, review: CAKE. Seriously, o felie de torn de multumesc si iti fac tot festivalul de 4 zile de la munte cu 1433 de formatii si 16 curve care danseaza pe bat 53 de ore continuu in slow motion real. Asta, daca stii cum sa ma iei si te porti cu mine ca un om. Pentru ca la o adica poate ma distrez si io pe acolo si tot asa. Problema e cand  oamenii considera fotograful un fel de curva ieftina care trebuie sa se puna in genunchi si sa se milogeasca sa suck your FUCKING DICK. FUCK YOU YOU LITTLE TURDS. I WILL FUCK YOUR MOTHERS IN THE KNIFE WOUNDS I SHALL INFLICT ON THEIR BRAINS.

Dar din nou, deviez. „Ideea e ca”, dupa vorba lui Alex, nu strica sa arati oamenilor un pic de respect pentru ca that will surprise you. In schimb, sa oferi la 2 fotografi suma de 50 de lei sa o imparta intre ei pentru munca de 2 zile e putin insultator. People really aren’t that cheap of hookers. Ideea e ca daca zicea ceva de genul „you get cate o felie de tori si bere in fiecare din cele 2 zile”  rezultau cateva chestii:

1. In primul rand, pentru ei, ieseau fotografii din barlogul lor de ura mentru omenire unde stau si arunca cu rahat in trecatori (din iubire). Si le faceau poze la chestie, pentru ca it would have been fun.

1. AIci vine problema: tort plus bere egal diaree. Dar cat timp au closet curat aprovizionat cu hartie igienica tot iesea ok.

Lectia zilei: Sa tratezi oamenii cu respect pentru ca daca nu s-ar putea sa te trezesti cu familia omorata, masina incendiata si hamsterul plangand in borcan pentru ca a fost eviscerat si lasat sa moara incet.

Desigur, alternativa mai clasica ar fi ca te trezesti fara fotograf bun  ,pentru ca i-ai tratat urat si nu mai vor sa lucreze cu tine.

Written by CyberFaust

martie 5, 2009 at 8:55 pm