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    <title>Khrystene&#39;s blog</title>
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    <updated>2008-06-16T20:27:38Z</updated> 
    <author>
        <name>Khrystene</name>
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    <id>tag:vox.com,2006:6p00c2251d16838e1d/</id> 
    <subtitle>...I bite back...</subtitle>  
    
    <entry>
        <title>Oh how I love thee Oxford!</title>   
        <rvw:rating>100</rvw:rating> 
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        <published>2008-06-16T19:37:36Z</published>
        <updated>2008-06-16T20:27:38Z</updated>
    
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                <div class="enclosure-asset-name"><a href="http://khrystene.vox.com/library/photo/6a00c2251d16838e1d00fae8c37b3a000b.html" title="Bird and baby">Bird and baby</a></div>
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<p>



Well today I&#39;m recovering from my short, but sweet, weekend in Oxford, UK, with my friend G~ and her partner A~.</p><p>It was full on and intense and sleepless (!), but wonderful.</p><p>Friday night a lovely Tapas bar for starters and then a few local pubs including a very short lived visit to The Temple Bar who had a Karaoke night on. My ears are still bleeding... After running out of there, we went to another small place, then yet another, an Irish bar, which we stayed at the longest. The barman was a rolly-polly cheeky fellow and it was fun.</p><p>One of the places we managed to dine (on the Saturday) in was the Pub where <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C._S._Lewis">C S Lewis</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._R._R._Tolkien">J R R Tolkien</a> used to sit with friends, known as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Inklings">The Inklings</a>, over a drink and a smoke and argue. The &quot;Bird and Baby&quot; as they used to call it, is small and poky and wonderfully atmospheric. There we drank beer, ate fish and chips and I had some apple and rubarb crumble. I could have stayed there all weekend. What a wonderful place to sit. I would love to own a bar in that style. Ahh maybe one day. Everything was perfect.</p><p>We also went book shopping, and I finally managed to score a copy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamamoto_Tsunetomo">Yamamoto Tsunetomo</a>&#39;s &quot;<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagakure">Hagakure: Way of the Samurai</a>&quot; which I&#39;ve been looking for. Along with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rik_Mayall">Rik Mayall</a>&#39;s autobio &quot;<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bigger-Than-Hitler-Better-Christ/dp/0007207271">Bigger than Hitler, Better than Christ</a>&quot;, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Virginia_Woolf">Virginia Woolf&#39;</a>s &quot;<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orlando:_A_Biography">Orlando</a>&quot;, Mantak Chia&#39;s manual - &quot;<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iron-Shirt-Kung-Mantak-Chia/dp/1594771049/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;qid=1213640802&amp;sr=1-11">Iron Shirt Chi Kung</a>&quot;, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paulo_Coelho">Paulo Coelho</a>&#39;s &quot;<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Alchemist_%28novel%29">Alchemist</a>&quot;, a small coffee-table book of Dreams with gorgeous photos which was on sale, plus <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milan_Kundera">Milan Kundera</a>&#39;s &quot;<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Unbearable_Lightness_of_Being">The Unbearable Lightness of Being</a>&quot;. Most second hand and all for bargain prices.</p>
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
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<p>


On Sunday, we managed to slip in another visit to a beautiful Pub - this time in a tiny village about 30 minutes from Oxford called <a href="http://www.falklandarms.org.uk/local.html">Great Tew</a>. (<a href="http://www.homefarmhouse.co.uk/great-tew.html">Here </a>is a B&amp;B there.) The Pub was <a href="http://www.falklandarms.org.uk/">The Falkland Arms</a> and was tiny and only allowed children in the beer garden out back if they were well behaved. Yes there was a sign and all! <blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><div><strong><span style="color: #3366ff"><u></u></span></strong></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: right"><strong><span style="color: #3366ff"><u></u></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color: #3366ff"><u>From their website:</u></span></strong><br /><br /><span style="color: #3366ff">We do not have a licence for children under 16 in the bar. However,
<em>well behaved children</em> are welcome in the garden at anytime and may sit
in the dining room (adjacent to the bar) at lunchtimes.</span><br /><span style="color: #3366ff"></span></div><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="color: #3366ff"></span><br /></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: left">It also had a large selection of beers on tap and the taps themselves, or rather the tap handles were beautiful in their own right... different porcelain designs on them in a range of genteel colours. They also did a decent roast, upon which we delected. Gods, I could have stayed there all day...<br /><br />Ahhh how lovely it was...<br /></div><br />And now Poland are playing very nicely against Croatia; though they haven&#39;t yet scored a goal and need to score two to stay in the finals.<br /></p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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    <category term="great yew" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/great+yew/" label="great yew" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>Enough already!!</title>   
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        <published>2008-06-04T17:52:02Z</published>
        <updated>2008-06-04T17:52:02Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
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        <p>I&#39;ve had enough of my fucking allergies. No matter what I take, I don&#39;t get complete relief. This year has been the worst in a long LONG time. I feel like I&#39;m pumped with drugs and out of it most of the time... ergh...</p><p>I blame Warszawa, I blame the local government and their workers. I blame them, because only this last week did they mow the long grass and plethora of weeds that had been flowering for weeks now. And they mowed them using &quot;whipper-snippers&quot; not normal lawn mowers with catchers; which prevents a lot of the pollen and dust flying up into the air. </p><p>As an annual sufferer of allergies, I am angry at their lack of foresight in this matter. Because of which, I have so far missed work and missed a Sinead O&#39;Connor concert. Fucking arses!!</p><p>*grumpy*</p><p>PS: And yes, being sick with allergies makes me grumpy. So.... watch it!</p><p>PPS: Thank goodness I&quot;m going to Torun this weekend and Oxford next... some relief. *sniff*<br /> </p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>Vox Hunt: Say Cheese</title>   
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        <published>2008-06-01T21:54:07Z</published>
        <updated>2008-06-01T21:54:07Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
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        <blockquote><p>Show us a smile. </p></blockquote>

    
    
    

    
    
    
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 <div><br /></div>   <p style="clear:both;"> 
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    <entry>
        <title>Do it! Do it!</title>   
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        <published>2008-05-10T20:43:54Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-10T22:39:53Z</updated>
    
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        <div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 1.5625em;"><strong>* * *</strong><br /><br /><strong><div>Go see <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0795493/">Cassandra&#39;s Dream</a>!!!<br /><br />* * *<br /><span style="font-size: 0.64em;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left"><span style="font-size: 0.64em;">I lik</span><span style="font-size: 0.64em;">ed <a href="http://www.colinfarrell.org/">Colin Farrell</a> when he said (in the article below) he preferred women with their &#39;<a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Map+Of+Tassie">map of tassie</a>&#39;</span>
<span style="font-size: 0.64em;"> in tact (yay!) and I think I like him even more after his role in this film...<br /></span><span><strong><span style="font-size: 1.5625em;"><strong><br />
    
    
    

    
    
    
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</strong></span></strong></span></div></div></strong></span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center">
<h1>PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: COLIN FARRELL</h1><h1><span style="font-size: 0.8em;"><em>Playboy Magazine</em>, March 2003</span></h1>
<h4>A candid conversation with hollywood’s next big deal about casual sex, 
condoms, circumcision, heroin, more sex, ecstasy, porn and, oh yes, pussy 
</h4></div>
<p><em>You can assume one thing about an actor who chats unapologetically about 
his tangles with prostitutes, the celebrity images he masturbates to, drugs he’s 
sampled, why he’s happy about his foreskin and his best guess as to his 
co-star’s sexual orientation: He’s not an American. Colin Farrell is a 
straightforward Irish guy’s guy - he swears a lot, chain-smokes and is 
frighteningly generous when answering questions about his personal life and 
career. His performance as a hell-raising Vietnam recruit in Tigerland won 
comparisons to such badasses as Marlon Brando and Jack Nicholson. Now he’s on 
screen with Al Pacino in the CIA thriller The Recruit and plays the villain in 
Daredevil, a comic book adaptation that pits him against Ben Affleck. He’ll also 
be in Phone Booth, a controversial (and much-delayed) movie about a sniper.</em> 
</p><p><em>Farrell, 26, is still new kid in Hollywood, but he’s already being paid a 
reported $8 million to star opposite Samuel L. Jackson in a red-blooded action 
flick based on the Seventies TV series SWAT.</em> 
</p><p><em>Farrell worried his mother sick with his carousing, bombed out of school 
at 17, then lit out to Australia, wild and disorderly, for a year. He returned 
to Ireland for a stint in drama school but dropped out in 1997 when he won his 
first movie role in the made-in-Ireland drama Drinking Crude. By the following 
year, he was a homegrown TV sitcom hero on the hit Ballykissangel, which led to 
a small role in The War Zone, actor Tim Roth’s 1999 directorial debut. In London 
Kevin Spacey was so impressed with Farrell in a stage role as an autistic teen 
that he recommended him to the director of the 2000 film Ordinary Decent 
Criminal. That gig landed him an American agent and, soon after, the lead in 
Joel Schumacher’s Tigerland and the WWII prison camp movie Hart’s War, in which 
he starred as a lieutenant alongside Bruce Willis. Many reviewers said he stole 
the show from Tom Cruise in Steven Spielberg’s Minority Report last summer.</em> 
</p><p><em>We sent <strong>Stephen Rebello</strong> to meet Farrell for drinks at his hotel in 
Santa Monica to find out he’s adjusting to being the &quot;next big thing.&quot;</em> 
</p><hr style="font-size: x-small" />

<p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Room service just brought you six cold bottles of beer. We’re 
sitting on the terrace of your hotel room because it’s a non-smoking floor and 
you want a cigarette. This isn’t typical health-conscious Los Angeles behavior. 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I have two fucking beers at lunchtime in Los Angeles and I’ve 
got an edge all of a sudden. Two beers at lunch and, suddenly, you’re a 
&quot;drinker.&quot; I understand the obsession in Hollywood. It’s a hard fucking town. So 
much importance is placed on the physical, the image, how you’re doing in life. 
Salads are huge here. Sushi is huge. It’s not how much love you have in your 
life, it’s how much money you get paid. Bottled water is huge. For women, it’s 
the French manicured nails and the Brazilian bikini wax, the one that gives you 
the landing-strip pussy. It’s not for me. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Do you feel out of the place here? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I was with my brother at the Chateau Marmont the other night; 
it’s about two in the morning and we’re having couple of margaritas. We’re 
fucking steaming drunk from drinking all day, and three guys, 30 to 40 years 
old, sit down at the table beside us. When the gorgeous little Filipino barman 
comes over and says to them, &quot;Would you guys like anything?&quot; one of them says, 
&quot;You know what? I think I’ll have a large Pellegrino, please.&quot; I swear to fuck, 
I’m not one for going. &quot;Come on, man, drink more - do shots!&quot; but then the other 
guy with him went, &quot;I’ll have one of those as well, actually,&quot; and the third 
guys says, &quot;You know what? That sounds really good. Make it three Pellegrinos - 
large.&quot; At two in the morning, how the fuck can a bottle of water sound really 
good? I understand the health-conscious city, but life’s too short. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Does your being a chain-smoker alienate you, too? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> My brother and I were having a cigarette outside a hotel when 
a woman got out of the car with two little boys, six or seven years old. One of 
the little fellows looked up at my brother and me smoking and said to his 
mother, &quot;What’s the fire those guys have in their hands?&quot; I shit you not. His 
mother said, &quot;Oh, nothing. That’s bad, bad.&quot; She was right. It is bad. But he 
had never seen a fucking cigarette at six or seven. Isn’t that amazing? 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Your fingers are pretty scraped up. Are you now or have you 
ever been a brawler? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Last night I was opening a bottle of fucking beer but I 
couldn’t get the top off and my fingers slipped, I scrapped, yeah. I remember my 
mother getting a report when I was very young, which she still has: &quot;Colin is 
getting in too many fights.&quot; 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What were you fighting about? Bullies? Girl troubles? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Girl trouble, for me, is when you fall in love - that’s 
fucking girl trouble. If you have a bad lay, that’s not girl trouble. A girl not 
returning your phone calls or spreading rumors about you, that’s not girl 
trouble, just a pain in the ass. But to fall in love – that’s girl trouble. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> When did you first get into that kind of trouble? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I was 16 when I fell in love with a girl named Amelia, who 
came from this big Portuguese family we were friendly with in Castleknock. Her 
two brothers, Tony and Chico, are still my best friends, and Amelia married 
another of my best mates. Am I painting a fucking picture of Dublin as an 
incestuous fucking place? Because it is. She was the real deal for me. But this 
one Halloween, I’d gotten into a bit of skirmish at school and the next day I 
heard 20 blokes were looking at me. I was already not getting on great in 
school, and boarding school had been suggested, so I thought, Fuck it, I’ll go 
to boarding school for a wile and get out of the Dodge. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Did you put a damper on you and Amelia? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I was in love with her and besotted by her. I’m soft about 
these things. I found it very hard because I only saw her once a week, on 
Sunday. I wanted to spend every second with her, but I was in boarding school 
with bunch of fucking dudes, playing table tennis and bartering for fucking 
bottles of Coke. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Was she the first sexual experience you had? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> No, my first was with an Australian woman. I had this friend 
in school who was a big e-head. I used to be a fucking e-head. I used to smoke 
fucking puppies like they were fucking candy for two or three years in the 
Dublin club scene and got completely into it. You’d be fucking doing 15 of these 
a weekend and you might pop them on Wednesday as well. It was your scene. It was 
really a way of life, not a weekend-warrior thing. The mates you were hanging 
out with were all fucking e-heads. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> So you’re saying ecstasy played a part in your losing 
virginity? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I had a really good mate, Eliot, who was a huge fucking 
drinker, popping back Guinnesses to beat the band. He knew I was fucking e-head, 
and he’d always say, “You’re with all them fucking wankers doing pills, you 
fucking tosser. Who do fuck you think you are? Why don’t you have a fucking 
drink?” I said, “We still drink. I tell you what. Some night I’ll go out with 
you and I’ll fucking do what you do and someday you’ll go out and do what I do.” 
So one night we went to the club I’d always gone to, a gay club in Dublin called 
Shaft. After one or two A.M., when the other places closed down, Shaft became 
gay, straight, whatever. We went there and danced into the wee hours. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> With each other? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> It was close on the floor, but there was no gyrating - or 
geez, he would have started throwing fists. There would have been killing. It 
was about 4 A.M. and Eliot was nearly comatose, so I put him in taxi an sent him 
home because I&#39;d met this Australian woman who was 36 and basically said to me, 
“Do you want to come back to my house and fuck?” We went to her place and were 
lying on the bed kissing and she opened a bottle of champagne – which I fucking 
hate. But I took a sip, and as I did, she reached under the bed and pulled out a 
wicker basket with about 400 condoms in it – different flavors, colors, ribbed. 
She said, “Pick one,” and I said to myself, “I am in fucking trouble here.” 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> And were you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> For about four hours straight. I thought I’d found the holy 
fucking grail. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Which condom did you choose? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Oh, God, I didn’t choose anything, fucking idiot that I was. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Was that the first time that you thought you might have a way 
with ladies? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I still haven’t figured that out. I know I am fairly fucking 
affable bloke and all, but that doesn’t always equal charm or a ticket to 
woman’s pants. Sometimes you just end up being “the nice guy” or “cute”. I 
remember being 14 in summer school and fancying the fuck out of this beautiful 
blonde bird named Lisa. I looked like I was 12 years old with my baby face. I 
remember asking one of her mates to put in a good word for me and she came back 
with, “She thinks you’re really cute, but you’re just not her type.” Fucking 
bastards. I have never from that day forth felt I had any great understanding of 
how to charm women or anything like that. But I’ve done OK. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Would you say that you were precocious? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I didn’t start early, though I caught up pretty quick. I see 
no fucking harm at all in people enjoying each other’s bodies in a two- or 
three-hour or 20-minute period. Two people in a bathroom in a nightclub when 
they both know what they’re doing and are both fucking enjoying it – if it’s on 
those terms, even the sleaziness of doing it in a bathroom or someone’s hotel 
room can be one of the funniest things. I’ve always been a firm believer that 
casual sex is a fucking good thing. There is far too much fun to be derived from 
it for it to be anything but good. Just put a fucking hat on. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Which you’re done ever since the Australian woman who had the 
400 condoms? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> One gets drunk and one is a fucking dickhead from time to 
time. We all forget. But I try, all the time. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> If you were to start your won line of condoms, what would you 
name it? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Don’t Forget. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Is your success rate with women better since you’ve become 
well known? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> It is easier for me to get laid in Los Angeles, for sure. 
When I first came here three years ago, I put myself at the Holiday Inn in Santa 
Monica and used to go on my own each night to the Third Street Promenade. Some 
nights I’d come home on my own, some nights I would come home with a girl, some 
nights with a room full of fucking strangers and we’d get pissed and stoned and 
get laugh. Those were great times, particularly because anyone who was nice to 
me or gave me the time of the day was doing it because they wanted to. They were 
either bored or lonely like I was. They laughed at my jokes because they thought 
I was actually funny. Now the lines are crossed. Are people treating you the way 
they are because of your name or position, whatever that may be? I’m a good 
judge of character. I can look into someone’s eyes – I hope I’m not being too 
naïve – and know if they’re a good or bad fucking egg. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Have your pickup lines changed much since those Holiday’ Inn 
days? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I wish I had something like, “Shall I phone you or just nudge 
you for breakfast in the morning?” That kind of shit. I am not very good at 
chatting up or making my way over to someone and going, “Hey.” If I’m introduced 
to someone and the conversation progresses, fine. Next thing, an hour later, I 
could be saying, “Do you want to go have fucking dinner or drinks or whatever?” 
I’m a fucking nerd when it comes to that shit, man, like fucking approaching 
women and stuff. I leave that to my mates. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What makes you most aware of the difference between Irish 
girls and American girls? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Fucking Brazilian bikini wax, for a start. I ate a lot of 
pussy at home, but I never saw a vagina until I came here; they were all covered 
at home. Girls are not as hugely into grooming at home as they are here, which 
is not a fucking problem at all – just different flavors of the same lollipop. 
In Ireland, there’s not so much importance placed on the physical appearance 
referencing what someone is like as human being. In Ireland, birds are all clean 
– it’s just that a lot of them have a big, hairy pussies. In Ireland, we think 
that to have the prettiest toes in the world and the most beautifully groomed 
pussy does not an interesting, generous, intelligent person make. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Any other major differences? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Irish women are really strong compared to American woman. A 
lot of them have tongues like serpents. Irish girls are great fun. They drink 
all night and fucking get pissed out of their minds. And if they want to have a 
row with you, they do. There is a good bit of casual sex and girls are seldom 
the ones being abused and misused. They’re just getting off you what you want to 
get off them. So I love the fucking society there. A one-night stand did never a 
bad person make. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Do you find Americans woman fascinated by an uncircumcised 
penis? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> They are kind of fucking fascinated with a foreskin, aren’t 
they? In Ireland, at birth we don’t get the tip of our fucking knobs chopped 
off. I fucking completely disagree with that. People say, “It’s much cleaner to 
have no foreskin.” What, have you never heard of a fucking shower? Of Q-Tips? 
Whatever you want to do it, just clean the fucking thing. I was at the party 
with 20 people, one of them an agent from CAA, when somehow the subject of 
foreskins came up. She said, “I just don’t understand a foreskin. I’ve never 
seen one.” So I whipped out my dick and said, “Here, that’s all it is. A bit of 
skin.” I did a little <em>Puppetry of the Penis</em> thing and showed her what it 
was about. You would have thought she was at a circus the way she was looking at 
me. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Why do actors and prostitutes seem to make good bedfellows? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> It’s really as fucking simple as sometimes I don’t want to go 
to a bar and get to know someone because I know all I’m looking for is the 
simple act of sexual intimacy. It’s like ordering a fucking pizza. Someone comes 
around, you spend an hour, you have a smoke with them afterward. It’s harmless 
interaction. I have never been with a prostitute that I haven’t been completely 
polite to and just treated like fucking human being. I’m not a great man for 
degradation. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> No leather, whips, clamps, chains and dungeons? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Not yet, but I’m young. I’ve got time. I’ve just got to get 
that particular phone number. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You’re not wary of the hooker going straight to the tabloids 
about you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> There is safety in the idea of getting a high-class hooker 
who’s going to keep her fucking mouth shout. You do whatever you want to do 
behind closed doors, and they don’t become involved or embroiled in your 
personal life. I’m very fucking flippant with all that shit. I could really give 
a fuck what people say about me. If there were an article about me in the 
newspaper saying “Irish actor found with prostitute in LA hotel,” my mother 
wouldn&#39;t say, “I can’t believe you did that.” She would say, “Did you pay by 
check or fucking cash? Is there a paper record?” She knows I’m not a bad fucking 
guy. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> In 2001 you and actress Amelia Warner were married for 
approximately four months. How did that affect you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> It was tough. Being in love and then finding yourself not in 
love as you once were, for me, was a fucking jagged little pill. I couldn’t 
understand it. I couldn’t understand how I felt different. I am not going to 
talk about her, though. Just respect that. Being in love is tough and it’s 
gorgeous and I’d do it all over again. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> How did Hollywood impress you when you were growing up? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I was always influenced by Steve McQueen, Brando, Clift. 
Ernest Borgnine I’ve seen in I don’t know how many fucking movies. I think I was 
eight or nine when I had a fucking mad thing for Marilyn Monroe. When I saw her 
movies, I’d just never seen anything like her. I fell madly in love with her and 
she was actually the first woman I ever fell in love with. I used to leave 
Smarties, the Irish equivalent of M&amp;M’s, under my pillow with a little note 
saying, “I know you’re dead, but these are very fucking tasty and you should 
come and have a few. I won’t tell anyone.” I’d get pissed off every night when 
I’d go up to bed and the fucking Smarties would still be there. I couldn’t 
figure out why Marilyn didn’t just want to take one of my fucking Smarties. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Why Marilyn in particular? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Even as a kid, you could look at her on-screen, look into her 
eyes, her face and see how sweet, insecure, gentle, weak and maybe afraid she 
was of the whole thing while embracing it with big open arms. Mix that up with 
the boldness, the dirtiness of her character, the hips, the walk on her, that 
she was the dirtiest fucking ride and had the fragility of a bird with a fucking 
clipped wing – I mean, that would brake a man’s heart every time. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Was she a sexual fantasy for you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Did I ever wank to her? Yeah, I would have, but I would 
usually just fucking whack off to calendar and magazine girls. Marilyn was more 
kind of a dream, an idea I would have while lying on my back thinking fucking 
romantic thoughts. But for wanking material, you’d always go to trashy mags. I 
used to whack off to Naomi Campbell. I went though a year of where I couldn’t 
get her out of my mind. I’d think of her and just be touching myself. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Have you met her since? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I have, yeah, but I haven’t told her. There was Linda 
Fiorentino, too. I used to fucking whack off the her, especially in <em>The Last 
Seduction</em>. When I met her, I told her. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> How did that go? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> She quite liked the idea. I didn’t get a slap in the face, so 
I think she took it as all right. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Have you ever called a phone sex line? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Christ Jesus, yeah man, and they’re terrible fucking things. 
When I was about 16 or 17, I remember calling them from the downstairs living 
room of my parent’s house, trying to whack off. When it didn’t work, I had to 
hang up, go upstairs, grab a fucking porno mag and finish it off with that. 
You’d want to be in some kind of funky place in your head for sex line to get 
off, knowing you’re probably talking to some bird with a cigarette dangling out 
of her mouth, finger her nails and looking nothing like she’s saying she looks. 
I never really got off on the fucking thing. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What about porno movies? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Yeah, I love porno movies. I always have. They’re great, 
great fun. I’ve been buying porn movies since I was 14 and found a shop in 
London and then went to Soho for the first time. I was like, “Oh, my God – sex 
everywhere. This is great.” I thought I was in heaven. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Any favorite titles, either past or present? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> No, they’re in constant rotation. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You grew up in a fairly cushy Dublin suburb called 
Castleknock? What sort of trouble did you get into there? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Just the usual little bits and peaces that kids get involved 
in – you know, dabbling in a couple of substances in shouldn’t have been doing 
or getting caught smoking joints, stealing a couple of cans of Coke and 10 packs 
of cigarettes from a shop. I got arrested for drunk driving and spent night in 
the clanger. Thy typical clichéd growing-up things. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> When did you start dabbling in illegal substances? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I think I was 14. The first time was at my friend’s house and 
we had made a concoction of fucking booze – Cointreau, gin, vodka – put it in a 
tankard and got sick as fucking dogs. Then, my friend’s brother came home with 
this lump of fucking brown stuff. We knew it was hash and, at 14, oh the fear it 
gave you that you were, for all intents and purposes, smoking heroin. Anyway, he 
put the hash in a Bic pen, burned it, and we sucked it and were out of our 
fucking minds. But probably didn’t start buying hash until I was 15 or so. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Where did you get your money back then? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I worked in bits and pieces. I was the youngest of the four 
kids and my mother was always fucking great. She let me get away with murder. I 
come from real working-class stock. My mom’s dad was a chauffeur – and I’m not 
talking about a fucking stretch limo, either, but a nice Bentley or a Jaguar. My 
mom’s mom made all the kids’ school uniforms in the parlor of the house. 
Eventually, my father did very well for himself with various jobs, although he 
didn’t start out like that. We’re very simple family. We work hard and we play 
hard. We like to drink and have a good time. I don’t come from stock that sits 
around breaking things down and analyzing life much. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Your father, Eamonn, and your Uncle Tommy were well-known 
football player for the Shamrock Rovers in the Sixties. Did you have to live up 
to that or live it down? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Geez, I wish I had a fucking penny for every time I said to 
someone in a bar, “My dad’s Eamonn Farrell and he used to play for the Shamrock 
Rovers,” and they didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about. It wasn’t like 
he was a major superstar, but within the right circles, at certain pubs and 
certain areas of Dublin, you’d go in and the old guys would have seen him play 
football live a crowd of 40,000. I have a big scrapbook of newspaper clippings 
and his jersey with three shamrocks on the back, in mothballs. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> How has your mother, Rita, shaped your life? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> With strong fucking hands. She is firm believer in whatever 
fucking makes you happy. She instilled in us all the idea that we could be 
whatever we wanted to be if we did it for the right reason, out of love or 
complete hunger for that thing. She’d say she wanted me to be a lawyer, but at 
the end of the day, you’ve got to live with yourself. It doesn’t matter if 
you’ve got a big fucking car and you’re getting invited to all the fucking 
charity balls in the world if you’re not happy. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You had a hard time in school and got booted out at 17. What 
was the big offense? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I wasn’t going to many classes, I was taking three-hours 
lunches and getting caught with my friend Eliot and all the lads in the pool 
hall having a couple of pints, then going back to classes. I’m sure people could 
smell the beer off our breath. The last school I was in was particularly strict, 
really a bunch of fascists. They had security cameras in the fucking study hall 
and we’d wire ourselves with our stereos, put our hands over our ears and go to 
sleep. A study supervisor grabbed me one day and I threw him up against the 
wall, saying, “If you ever touch me again, I’ll rip your fucking head off.” I’ll 
never forget packing my bags and walking out of the school feeling like a 
fucking rock star. I’d been fucking looking forward to getting kicked out of the 
school for a long time. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Did you ever worry you’d never find your way? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I never really worried about it, though my mother worried 
about it for years. I mean, I never really knew I’d fucking be sitting up here 
on the balcony of a fine hotel, having a drink with you and knowing in the 
morning I’m going back t shooting a movie with Samuel L. Jackson. But I knew I 
would be all right. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What happened when you told your father you wanted to be an 
actor? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> He laughed hard and he laughed long, and he said, “What do 
you want to be, a fucking play actor?” Then the first paycheck came in, and he 
slapped me on the back and said, “That was a great idea, son.” My mother was, 
from day one, “Well, if that’s what you want to do, try it.”. I had been 
depressed, just up and down and all over the place. My mother was a nervous 
wreck. Apart from acting being a big thing for me, it was kind of relief for he 
because I’d found something that I actually liked, that I could throw my energy 
into. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Success found you pretty quickly. 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I had four of five great years over there, you know? I was 
lucky enough to work in Dublin with great actors and on some TV shows. It was 
like a day job. I’d go to work at eight A.M., shoot the show Ballykissangel, 
we’d wrap at five or six, I would come home at the same time the lads had 
finished installing kitchen and working in the clothes shops and we’d all go to 
the pub. It wasn’t like a bog “Wow, you’re an actor, man” type affair. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Any problems for you appearing naked on camera in Tigerland? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> There was just two girl, two boys, three crew members and 
Joel. We were all just sitting around naked as fuck, having a laugh. It was not 
a very sexy environment, man. The say the camera puts on 10 pounds. Not in the 
fucking nether region. I had a dick like a cashew nut, man. If I could walk 
around naked all the time, though, I would. The first thing I do when I come 
home is rip off all the clothes and just plop myself into bed. Not a fucking 
problem, man. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Tom Cruise was your co-star in Minority Report. What was he 
like? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Extreme positivity. Tom was fucking great on the set to all 
the actors, the crew. You know all that bullshit about extras not being allowed 
to look at him? That’s a load of fucking wank. He was generous. Obviously 
ambitious and very strong and very, very competitive. But really, a very 
generous fellow. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Did you two pal around? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I wouldn’t have seen that in a million years. I really had a 
good time with him, but I don’t know him. I mean, he’s Tom Cruise. He’s got so 
much going in his life. I never got to have a drink with him, but why the fuck 
would he? 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> How many of your friends in Ireland asked you if he was gay? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Quite a few of them. It was one of the first things that they 
asked. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What’d you tell them? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I said, “I don’t think so,” and I stand by than. Who knows 
what goes on behind fucking closed doors? But if I were to bet my life on 
whether he was gay or not, I wouldn’t think twice. I would go, “I bet my life 
he’s not,” and I firmly believe he’s not. Look. I’ve met fucking guys who are 
straighter than me and tougher than me suck cock. There’s a guy in Dublin who is 
so effeminate and extremely camp it’s hilarious, yet he’s very happy, 
heterosexual married man with two kids. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You made Hart’s War with Bruce Willis in Prague. Is it true 
Willis seldom knew his lines? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> He learns them – he just fucks them up a lot. But that’s 
funny, and you slag about it. He’s just like me. Prague is mad, mad city. Man, 
there’s fucking darkness to be found in that place. I couldn’t wait to get out 
and I will never go back. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You’ve worked and continue to work with some very big names. 
If you were having a really bad night, is there anyone you would call? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Pacino. I wouldn’t think twice about picking up the phone. I 
shot The Recruit with him in Toronto and sometimes he would have to stay over 
the Four Seasons. We’d race out to the fucking bar and have dinner and talk 
about scenes, or we’d just shoot the shit. He was fucking great with me – 
completely generous, funny and quirky. He’s just a fucking genuine dude, and I 
had all the time in the world for him. He used to call me “Kid,” like, “Hey, how 
you doing, kid?” and I nearly got a fucking boner every time he said it, you 
know? Moments like sitting at the Four Seasons with Pacino improvising because 
the scene we’re doing the next day isn’t as fleshed pit as it should be – that’s 
when I think. How the fuck did I ever get here? Didn’t finish school. Was told 
I’d be fucking nothing. Told in drama school I mumble too much and wouldn’t 
work, and here I am sitting with Michael Corleone, Scarface. God, that’s 
amazing. I am a lucky little cock. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> In another one of your new movies, Daredevil, you play the 
villain Bullseye, a man with deadly aim, to Ben Affleck’s blind, acrobatic 
superhero. How did that go? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> That was just a case of “Check your subtlety at the door.” It 
was very large, man. I might be ridiculously over-the-top in this one. How could 
I do character research to play Bullseye? Walk down the Third Street in Santa 
Monica trying to kill people with fucking safety pins? You just have to go for 
it. Be large and bask the fact that you’re allowed to do it, for once. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Any tales of superhero-supervillain bonding between you and 
Ben Affleck? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I only saw him on the set and he’s really lovely fucking 
dude. I did not get to know him very well at all, but I thought he was dead-on. 
I did one big fight scene with him and that was good fun. He’s a big fucker, as 
well – six-foot-four or something. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Have you ever felt electricity with a female co-star? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Bridget Moynahan is an amazing fucking woman. I had a great 
time working with her on The Recruit – and I’m not even talking about chemistry, 
because nothing happened between us and she’s been with a dude for four years, 
happily. She beautiful, strong as an ox, knows who she is and she’s bold as 
brass-brazen yet she’s also as fucking soft and sweet as they come. Working with 
actresses doesn’t get much better that the experience I had working with Bridget 
Moynahan. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Which actresses are on your “must work with” list? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I love Angelina Jolie’s work. I think she has an amazing 
ability to get under the skin of character and do her thing. I would love to 
work with her and obviously, Halle Berry, whom I’ve had a crush on since I was 
about 12. She seems lovely, a sweet girl. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Does she know how you feel about her? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I met Halle when I was up in Toronto on the se of X-Men, but 
I had four cold sores on my lip and felt like a two-year old. I kept my hand 
over my mouth, saying, “It was really nice to meet you. Really nice to meet 
you.” Oh it was terrible. I’m not afraid of telling her. Maybe she reads 
Playboy. I’m sure her husband does. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Clearly you enjoy a good drink. Can you work with a buzz on? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I never had a buzz on and worked, I’ve dealt with hangovers 
during works. Bad ones. And I’ve worked with them. It gives you little something 
else to fight against, a little something to play off of. I did a community play 
once in a park in Sydney, Australia for kids, not a professional theater, and I 
was stoned out of my head from reefer. I’ll never fucking do that again. I was 
just freaked. I could hear every word coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t spit 
out the words fast enough. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Does coke scare you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I wouldn’t touch that fucking shit. Cocaine would be the road 
to ruin for me. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Because you’d like it too much? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Yeah, I’d get addicted. A great friend of mine in Dublin is a 
driver and all he said to me was, “When you get to Hollywood, if I ever hear 
you’re on that white powder, I’ll fucking rip your head off.” He’s dead right, 
because he knows I’m as bold as brass. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> And what about heroin? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Heroin’s fine in moderation. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Is there anything else that scares you? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> Commercial fucking airplanes. I hate flying, I get sweaty 
palms, I hear every fucking noise. I usually get out of my head and just go 
unconscious or start tripping. My sister hates flying with me because I end up 
doing too much Dramamine or sleeping pills that I mix with booze so I don’t know 
anything that’s going on. It’s a big fucking train flying through the air and I 
hate it. I find it most unnatural fucking thing in the world. (A helicopter 
flies over head) There’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What would you be doing right now if you were in Ireland? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I’d be drinking pints of Carlsberg. I genuinely miss the 
normality of going up to the fucking pub at seven or eight every evening, having 
five or six pints and carrying on the same conversation for 15 fucking years 
with the same mates, laughing about stupid shit. A lot of people here work their 
asses off during week and go fucking bananas on weekends. We work our asses off 
as well, but every weeknight, we go and have a few pints with a dinner of 
lasagna or some fucking chips, fucking chicken Kiev or a big stake with some 
fucking sautéed onions. I miss that, big time. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> You grew up far from the troubles that have plagued Northern 
Ireland for so long. Still, you must have taken a stand on this issue. 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> In an ideal word, it would be nice for Ireland to be one 
county because it’s such a pretty fucking island. But I don’t live up there, so 
it’s not about me. It was never on my porch, never on my front doorstep. But it 
would affect you, you know, an inordinate amount because at the end of the day, 
it’s your Ireland, your country, your people, whether they pledge allegiance to 
the queen or not. They have Northern Irish accents, they’re Irish people and 
they’re fucking going bananas on each other. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What are your feelings about the IRA? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> A bunch of fucking scumbags and terrorists – that’s all there 
is to it. You cannot fucking put a bomb on a crowded street and kill a lot of 
men, women and children and call your cause just. There is not fucking 
justification for that. A hit is different thing. It’s still wrong to take 
another life, but a hit is a decision made to take one person for a particular 
reason. I’m not condoning it, but that’s much easier to justify than what IRA 
has gotten involved in. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> Would you go to war? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> If somebody ever harmed any of my family, I would always 
fight for what I believe in. if I were alive in 1910, I would have been in the 
bushes with a rifle trying to kick the English out of my country back in the day 
when we were being suppressed. But as for war, the repercussions are very real. 
The blood is read and real and doesn’t dry as quick as you might think. 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> What’s the best thing about having money? 
</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I really don’t want that much. A few beers, a packet of 
smokes and I’m a happy fucking boy. The able to so that and be able to send my 
mother this or that or, when she’s here, to send her down to a spa for a fucking 
$400 six hours of manicures, pedicures, every cure. Oh, fucking man, you cannot 
get her out of there. She loves it. What else do I need? 
</p><p><strong>PLAYBOY:</strong> All if all the jobs, the fame, the opportunities were to end? 

</p><p><strong>FARRELL:</strong> I love my job and I take it much more serious than I take 
myself. I think I’ll probably want to do this for a long while. But if it were 
all to end tomorrow, I would go home. I’d write. I’d open a pub called 
“Flagger’s, from “Flagge”, a nickname one of the lads have me as kind. That 
would be grand. But it’s nice to know my level of grandness would be made easier 
by the amount of money I’d earned in the past few years. If I decide to pack 
this in, or the opportunity to do this was taken away from me, it’s nice to know 
I have enough of money to be sure my kids would have an education. And there 
would always he a house with food, clothes and central heating. And my beers and 
smokes. I’d have some great stories, too. </p><p><br /></p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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        </content> 
    <category term="film" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/film/" label="film" /> 
    <category term="cinema" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/cinema/" label="cinema" /> 
    <category term="ewan mcgregor" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/ewan+mcgregor/" label="ewan mcgregor" /> 
    <category term="colin farrell" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/colin+farrell/" label="colin farrell" /> 
    <category term="cute arse" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/cute+arse/" label="cute arse" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title> Dalai Lama Quote of the Week</title>   
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" title=" Dalai Lama Quote of the Week" href="http://khrystene.vox.com/library/post/dalai-lama-quote-of-the-week.html?_c=feed-atom-full" />  
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        <published>2008-05-10T13:42:01Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-10T13:42:01Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
            <uri>http://khrystene.vox.com/?_c=feed-atom-full</uri>
        </author>
    
        
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        <p><span style="font-size: small; color: #000000; font-family: verdana"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-size: small; color: #000000; font-family: verdana">     
		<p>A
tantric yogi who has gained control of the subtle energies of the body
and the subtle levels of consciousness will have control over the inner
and outer elements and consequently can transform his or her ordinary
samsaric form into a joyous rainbow body. But until we can do this, we
have to accept the fact that our physical basis is a magnet attracting
every kind of discomfort and pain.</p>
<p>...This samsaric body keeps us running all of our lives. We have to
run to fulfill its endless needs, to keep it away from things that may
harm it, and to protect it from anything unpleasant. We have to give it
pleasure and comfort. We become ordained, and at first this is very
satisfactory; but soon our body makes it so difficult for us that we
think our practice would be less disturbed if we were to live as a
layperson. So we give up and return to ordinary life; but then we end
up with a family to support, leaving us with no time or energy for
meditation. We have the pressing tasks of feeding, clothing, and
sheltering our children, and of arranging their education and so forth.
Our lives are spent alternating between work and worry, with occasional
short periods of pleasure, and then we have to die; but even this we
cannot do in peace, for, when we lie down to die, our last thoughts are
worried ones concerning the family we are leaving behind. Such is the
nature of worldly existence.</p>
<p>...To care for our old people--these ones who have given us our
body, our life, and our culture--is a sacred duty of humanity. But most
humans act more like animals than people, and often we see old people
who have been abandoned by their families. Family units were very
strong in Tibet, and old people were usually cared for directly by
relatives. The national care for the old that we see in the West is
something very good, a healthy sign, although perhaps here the
spiritual and psychological basis is somewhat lacking.</p>
<p>The suffering of old age is something we all must face, unless we
die prematurely. There is nothing we can do about it. Gone will be that
false sense of personal ability and strength that made us so proud when
we were young. Instead, helpers or friends will bathe us, dress us,
spoonfeed us, and have to take us to the toilet. Rather than live under
the delusion of permanence, we should engage in spiritual training so
that we can enter old age at least with the grace of wisdom.</p>
<p>...So we can see that this body indeed causes us much grief in this
life and, sadly, in their quest to satisfy its many needs, most people
just collect an endless stream of negative karmic instincts that will
lead them to lower rebirths in the future.
These are the sufferings of the human world.</p>
<p>...The important point here is to become aware of the third type of
suffering, the subtle suffering that pervades all imperfect existence,
the all-pervading misery concomitant with having a perishable, samsaric
base.... [All are] enmeshed in suffering because the nature of their
body and mind is bound with compulsive cyclic processes. Until we
develop the wisdom that is able to free the mind from these compelling
forces, there is no doubt that we shall experience suffering throughout
our lives, and that we shall continue to wander endlessly in the wheel
of birth, life, death, and rebirth where the presence of misery can
always be felt. </p>

</span><div style="text-align: right"></div><div style="text-align: right"></div><span style="font-size: small; color: #000000; font-family: verdana"><p>--from <em>The Path to Enlightenment</em> by H.H. the Dalai Lama, edited and translated by Glenn H. Mullin, published by Snow Lion Publications</p></span> </p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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        </content> 
    <category term="buddha" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/buddha/" label="buddha" /> 
    <category term="self" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/self/" label="self" /> 
    <category term="life" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/life/" label="life" /> 
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    <category term="sangha" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/sangha/" label="sangha" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>QotD: It&#39;s Too Late to Apologize</title>   
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="QotD: It&#39;s Too Late to Apologize" href="http://khrystene.vox.com/library/post/qotd-its-too-late-to-apologize.html?_c=feed-atom-full" />  
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        <link rel="service.edit" type="application/atom+xml" title="QotD: It&#39;s Too Late to Apologize" href="http://www.vox.com/atom/svc=post/asset_id=6a00c2251d16838e1d00f48cf5bea10003" />          <id>tag:vox.com,2008-05-07:asset-6a00c2251d16838e1d00f48cf5bea10003</id>
        <published>2008-05-07T13:03:17Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-07T13:03:17Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
            <uri>http://khrystene.vox.com/?_c=feed-atom-full</uri>
        </author>
    
        
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        <blockquote><p>Has anyone ever done something so horrible to you that &quot;I&#39;m sorry&quot; couldn&#39;t fix it?</p><p><br /><strong><span style="font-size: 1.25em">Well OF COURSE!!!!</span></strong> <br /></p></blockquote>   <p style="clear:both;"> 
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    <category term="qotd" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/qotd/" label="qotd" /> 
    <category term="too late to apologize" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/too+late+to+apologize/" label="too late to apologize" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>Where do ya geddit?!</title>   
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        <link rel="service.edit" type="application/atom+xml" title="Where do ya geddit?!" href="http://www.vox.com/atom/svc=post/asset_id=6a00c2251d16838e1d00f48cf472290003" />          <id>tag:vox.com,2008-05-03:asset-6a00c2251d16838e1d00f48cf472290003</id>
        <published>2008-05-03T14:33:10Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-03T14:33:10Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
            <uri>http://khrystene.vox.com/?_c=feed-atom-full</uri>
        </author>
    
        
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        <p>I have some favourite &#39;catchphrases&#39; I like to use. They come from my Australian upbringing. </p><p>Today, while listening to the Melbourne 3RRR Radio program Film Buff&#39;s Forecast, I discovered where a couple of these come from:</p><p><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_Rene">ROY RENE</a></p><p><em>As Mo McCackie</em><em>, Rene used a number of idiomatic catchphrases including:</em></p><p>&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;Strike me lucky!&quot;<br /><strong>&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;Don&#39;t come the raw prawn&quot;</strong><br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;Cop this, young Harry!&quot; (before striking Harry)<br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;You beaut!&quot;<br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;You little trimmer!&quot;<br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;I&#39;m a wake up&quot;<br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;One of my mob&quot;<br /><strong>&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;Fair suck of the Sav&quot;</strong><br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;I don&#39;t know whether to kiss him or kick him&quot;<br />&#160;&#160;&#160; * &quot;You filthy beast!&quot;</p><p>Those in bold are my faves. *grin*</p><p>I had a good laugh at this skit he did with Nat Phillips as <strong>Stiffy and Mo</strong>...</p><blockquote><p>They once had a comedy &#39;skit&#39; where Mo would act with another person and would write the letter &#39;F&#39; on a blackboard (on stage) and then ask his co-actor: &#39;What letter do you see&#39; to which he would reply: &#39;K&#39;. Mo would then say: &#39;Why is it that whenever I write F you see K?&#39;</p></blockquote><p>*giggles*<br /> </p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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    <category term="humour" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/humour/" label="humour" /> 
    <category term="phrases" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/phrases/" label="phrases" /> 
    <category term="vaudville" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/vaudville/" label="vaudville" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>QotD: Happy Friday!</title>   
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        <published>2008-05-02T22:23:27Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-02T22:23:27Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
            <uri>http://khrystene.vox.com/?_c=feed-atom-full</uri>
        </author>
    
        
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        <blockquote><p>What are you most looking forward to this weekend? </p></blockquote>
<p></p><p><br /><div style="text-align: center"><span style="color: #000000"><strong><span style="font-size: 1.95312em;">SLEEP! SHOPPING! TIME WITH FRIENDS!</span></strong></span><br /> </div></p>   <p style="clear:both;"> 
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    <category term="happy friday" scheme="http://khrystene.vox.com/tags/happy+friday/" label="happy friday" /> 
    </entry> 
    
    <entry>
        <title>May Day! May Day! </title>   
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        <published>2008-05-01T19:32:44Z</published>
        <updated>2008-05-01T19:32:44Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
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        </author>
    
        
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        <p>I spent the better part of the day, afternoon mostly, with my friend Paweł and his partner Lukasz. We met near the castle in the Old Town and went over the the New Town to a much frequented cafe (by us anyway) for something to eat. The Old (and New) Town was packed with tourists. On the way there, I bought a couple of rolls of film (yes film) for my camera - as apparently it&#39;s going to be unavailable shortly as they&#39;re (the powers that be) planning on getting rid of it entirely. </p><p>After eating we walked down to Krakowskie Przedmiescie and to one my fave pubs, which Alex introduced me to, in one of the yards off Nowy Świat near what&#39;s called Pewex. I wonder if there was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pewex">Pewex </a>there at some point... </p><p>So we stayed and drank some beer and I had a Cosmopolitan and chatted and laughed about rude things and silly things and it was a lot of fun. </p><p>Oh, I nearly forgot, on the way to the bar, we passed a huge &#39;Country&#39; Fair on Nowy Świat (which was closed to traffic). It was packed with wonderful fare including sausages and country bread - I think Polish bread (especially Country Bread) is the best in the world. Anyway, as the skies decided burst the moment we got to that fare, we decided to hide in a walkway then head to the aforementioned Pub and return to the fare later. When we did return we got Cheese and Bread and Sausage. All bought from people who were happy to sell their produce to us, with smiles and free samples. It was lovely. Also some Folk music band played on the stage, to the wonder and pleasure of many MANY passers-by. The place was so packed with happy tourists and Poles alike. It was really what I think could be here. I real community feeling. The whole world in one moment. I also bought myself a new, hand made, red glaze and brown clay coffee cup from a woman there. She has a workshop where she also teaches here in W-wa. Maybe... maybe.</p><p>Then we walked up Świętokrzyska to the Metro for Paweł and Lukasz and the bus for me. We had a quick coffee at Coffee Heaven there and then parted. I hope we get to see eachother again soon. I miss company that &#39;understands&#39; me in W-wa. The kind of understanding you only get with people who&#39;ve been through stuff with you and know you well.</p><p>Ah life!<br /> </p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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    <entry>
        <title>I&#39;m tired....</title>   
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        <published>2008-04-28T10:56:19Z</published>
        <updated>2008-04-28T10:56:19Z</updated>
    
        <author>
            <name>Khrystene</name>
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        <p>.... in the fed up, frustrated sense. Tired of this pedestrian life.</p><p>Time for change.<br /> </p>   <p style="clear:both;">    
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