The End? MY End!

OMG, Minga is SUCH a drama queen. It wasn't "the end". It was just that none of us had anything interesting to say for the time being.

I can't really say that I have anything interesting to say now. OK, so I've repelled a few times since my last post. Let's just say that the men of the Benelux region haven't been kind to me. This year, I've repelled the "Be" and the "Lux". Now, I just need to repel the "Ne", and then I'll have completed my collection. Oh yeah, and I also repelled a Pole. It's like the Small World of Repelling.

Where, you may ask, do I find the strength to deal with my lot (apart from knowing that Minga's lot is worse than mine)? One answer is music. Particularly music that basically no one else likes (or would admit to liking). For "I'm like a Brand New Bitch" (in French, "Je suis comme une Toute Nouvelle Pétasse"). Love you, Anjulie!

The End

Well Sandwich lovers, we all knew this was coming, given the last post was in MAY.  Jesus.  We're on hiatus.  The Sandwich will be going into hibernation.  Weep now and weep aplenty.

Laters.

Funniest Sandwich GIF's

Since Minga found what she believes is the greatest find since that Womble suit she found in the destitute drama room of her high school (and which she later wore to much pride in front of the lad she fancied and consequently experienced an epic repel from), she had to ask Gladys what they were called.  Apparently the kids these days call them GIF's.  Because she is too sore mentally, she cannot think of something witty and vaguely interesting to blog today so it will have to be a list of Sandwich Top GIF's.  As found by Minga.  Loser extraordinaire.

Classic Penguin Slap

George Bush Dance

Pug Licking Screen

Carlton Dance!

Smithers Lapdance

And the best...

Dawson Crying

Dawson Calling You

Dawson "So my marriage/mortgage/route to work is really fascinating..."

Clearly the Van Der Beekster is an internet sensation (and Minga's new favourite Pacey).  He has many more fabulous GIF's here.  

What We Will Not Miss From the 1990's

For some reason Ginga and Minga decided to spend a delightfully stormy Saturday night cooped up in some giant house in Birkenhead (Tornado central apparently).  And for some reason we began talking about the 90's.  This is the beginning of the conversation:

Int. Fabulous large house in Tornado-land - Night

Ginga relaxes on a chaise longue eating grapes whilst Minga perches on a rabbit-haired hammock reading 'Eat, Love, Pray'.  Ginga begins to discuss the 1990's.  For no reason.  She declares that peachy soft focus lighting in movies was a typical feature of 90's cinema.
 
Ginga: Maybe the 90's in general was embalmed in this fuzzy peachy glow.  In fact didn't the Body Shop have the fuzzy peach lip balm?
Minga: Oh my God, The Body Shop was proper 90's!
Ginga: Fuzzy peach, fuzzy peach lip balm
Minga: Yeah I get it
Ginga: It was like a status symbol.  There was this girl at school who had various types of peach lip balm and I was extremely jealous.
Minga: I've stopped listening
Ginga: She had 10 different types of lip balm!
Minga: zzzzz
Ginga: I mean why on earth would you want that many variations of the same lip balm?
Minga: (Leaves to make some cookies and herbal hash)
Ginga: Joanna D! That was it! It was Joanna D!  Why did she have so many different types of lip balm?!

And so begins our extensive (though not limited) list of what we remember about that glorious decade and what we never want to see again:

Boybands
As much as it hurts Minga to admit it, there is no more room for floppy haired, synchronised gyrating man-boys dressed in ghastly apparitions by Tommy Hilfiger, singing about bullshit love and loss.

Old brick phones

Alamak chat Oh internet, how you've changed.

Fake hair
Whole shopping malls had areas dedicated to faux hair on a scrunchie.
Minga: Did they have fake Ginga hair?
Ginga: Um, no because nobody wanted to be Ginga in the 90's.  Ginga only became cool in 2003.
Minga: How salacious!
Ginga: Or did Ginga become cool once Ginga Spice came about?
Minga: That's a contradictory sentence.

Chokers
Especially the tattoo kind

The beginning of metallics, white pants, midriffs and FM boots aka Britney's entire wardrobe

Drinks like Midori, RTD's and Sambuca flaming shots - oh how rad!

Jennifer Lopez before she miracously realised she was from the block.

Armband tattoos, Chinese symbol tattoos and bellypiercings - not that we had any.

Titanic the film.  For more ranting and hate go here.

Goths before Emo's

Models being Super

Surfer labels like Rip Curl and Billabong being the couture du jour for white, middle-class, obsessively boring-bound-to-end-up-married-by-age-25-with-three-kids-and-a-mortgage types.

Raves (Minga and Ginga have particularly fond memories of sneaking out of them and gulping down pure cheap vodka to become even more awesome)

The beginnings of the peudo-lesbian movement

Homie-G's (RIP Nate Dogg, may you chill and 'lax with Tupac and Biggie in the big crib in da sky - in fact the word 'da' is very 90's).

Jennifer Love Hewitt (and her astoundingly horrific music) and most bland TV turned film actors with three names as names, we're looking at you Jonathon Taylor Thomas, Chad Michael Murray (extra points for having Murray in the list), Freddie Prinze Jnr, Seann William Scott, Sarah Michelle Geller...

Speaking of Geller, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (The Twilight of last Century).

There you have it.  Next time, the 00's....if we can be bothered.

Willis! Osama! Breaking Sandwich News! Exclamation Marks!

So apparently this week was full of breaking world news!  Our high class BFF, Willis got married in front of 2 billion people (awkward) and certain media felt it imminent to spend many broadcast hours discussing what the biscuit tins would look like and what type of nightmares the bride to be would be having (apart from the obvious - 'oh my God we're probably cousins').
But alas we cannot diss the Prince, mainly because he once did cleverly diss Minga in a nightclub in London.  Point: Willis.  But Minga did snatch a quick cheek kiss and grope.  Point: Minga.  Before being 'escorted' away by his bodyguards decked in fabulous grey knits.  Point: Her Majesty's Service.

The other big news of course has been that that bearded cousin of Minga's, Uncle Osama,  has been killed and his body buried at sea.  Odd choice for a dude who mainly lived in a cave but apparently the world (i.e frat kids in the US) are going nuts.  A naive part of us thinks this is great but the realist side (i.e boring side) believes that this will cause some badass retaliation from Uncle's supporters causing what the US and allies would consider justification to invade yet another part of the world that loves deserts and extreme facial hair.  Hmmm....oh world, when will you learn??

But forget all that.  The biggest news to hit Sandwich HQ (and consequently all of humanity, for we like to think in hyperboles) is that Minga found this:

Her life is now complete.

Haiku for Eat, Pray, Love

Haiku for Eat, Pray, Vomit:

Dear James Franco (again)
You owe me two hours of 

your life.  I'm waiting.

In fact screw the haiku, we need to have words Franco. 

First you make us go through the excruciating pile of un-digested bile and regurgitated trollop that was Nights in Rodanthe, which even you despised since you took your name out of the credits.  

Then you force that hideous big mouthed monster Hathaway (dressed in various montages of putrid glitter and sequins) upon us at the ludicrously over-hyped nightmare that is the Oscars.

And now this.  On DVD, in the comfort of our own homes, we had to watch this horror and shameful excuse for a film.  Watching Roberts roam around Rome telling people that guys will shag anything, even girls with muffin tops is not enlightening. 

And where were you?  Reduced to some secondary, passive,  man-child character who mumbles on the phone and tries to meditate because he's cool, edgy and New York like that.  Then after 20 minutes, you disappeared.

So I repeat, you owe me.  Big time.  Perhaps a sequel to Howl?  Howl 2: The Return of Super Ginsberg?  Or a dinner, massage and acid trip so that we can see James Dean come out of my wall and spark up (true story). 

I guess this is a start,  

Kind Regards,

Minga

Acting With James Franco Episode 1: "Sense Memory" from James Franco

Repel of the Century: Muhammad Hosni Sayyid Mubarak

Here at Sandwich we pride ourselves on providing humanity with the inevitable: repels.  In fact, we wrote the book on repelling (not literally we're too busy drinking vodka, smoking opium and hating on others to do so).  Repelling is an ancient art form, a cultural legacy for some and it is what makes us great.  After all, to err is human, to repel is divine.  So it is fitting to devote our repel of the week to the recent EX-president of Egypt, Muhammad Hosni Sayyid Mubarak.

This guy (I'd just like to point out that Blogger has decided to go militant on italics and won't let me change it, I may start hyperventilating).  Anyway Mubarak put the EP in REPEL!  He repelled a whole nation, his OWN nation, his own people and not only that, but people are actually celebrating his epic repel, WORLDWIDE!


So here at Sandwich we salute you Sir, you have indeed set the bar now.  Repel of the Century and here's hoping more will follow...we're looking at you buddy....

Haiku for 127 Hours

James Franco, why did

You not take a damn phone? Dude

You are hot but dumb.

sigh.

A Sonnet for All the Men I've Loved Before

To all the men I've loved before

Why did you leave me?

We were happy, delightful and so full of zest

You were drinking cognac

I was spilling it on my jeans

Together we were divine

You were getting high

I was swatting flies

Together we were invincible

You were sneaking a naughty smoke

I was leering a dirty look

Together we made art

Together we were someone, something and somewhere magnificent

Alone I am lost, alone and not at all bitter

Alone you are not, because that bitch of a wench you left me for still exists.

So again I cry

To all the men I've loved before

Where did you go?

South East Asia apparently.

Fuckers.

Fin.

Happy Fucking Christmas

In the spirit of Christmas, this post will be quick, to the point and full of tinsel.

'Tis the time to be festive and 'tis the time where repelling is at its highest.  In fact Minga got stood up the other day...by a girl...at the carpark of a dodgy backpackers, alone with her thoughts, in the rain, attempting to light up with some godforesaken matches that did not embrace the windy and horrid weather that came about.

So let it be that this festive season, we at Sandwich would like to do a Kanye West.  We would like to blame everyone else in the Universe for being fucking cruel, for being fucking muppets and for not embracing our magnificence as they should.  It's your fault Universe.  Fuck you. 

Merry Christmas to all you other fuckers who have too been fucked mercilessly by the big, bad, world.

Haiku for The Social Network

Haiku for The Social Network

Film is all about

Hot geeks and Jew fros making rich

And grand repelling

Sandwich

Pubs de pédé

One of the things that would strike many a foreigner about France is how homo advertising is here. So much of it would NEVER work in any English-speaking country that I know of (outside a gay ghetto). By the way, nothing in this post applies to you, Minga.

For example, I don't think that a red-blooded English speaker (male or female) would ever be driven into a consumerist frenzy by...

... this ad, one of many for the (admittedly awesome) Autumn 2010 collection of French clothing brand, A.P.C.:

... or by this ad for Galéries Lafayette, a French department store, featuring Frédéric Beigbeder (who, for all intents and purposes, actually is heterosexual):

... or by this ad for football betting:

Apparently, the Bloodhound Gang got it right:

We Love You Peter Jackson - Now Hire Us

After working in the film industry, both Minga and Ginga know what its like to be the lowest of the low, to be tramped on, to be unpaid, to be punched in the face and laughed and pointed at whilst the 1st camera assistant bitches about his cold Burger King.  It's not exactly a humane industry. 

So what's the beef with some wannabe-union (I stress 'wannabe') trying to take on 'The Hobbit'?  Nothing is fair in film but when there is the chance of actual work, with aforementioned hero, Jackson, we got excited.  We've worked with less impressive people for free and lost all our dignity, so let us at least work for crap pay for a man we actually like.  Stop the madness. 

Whatever your take, you must agree on the fabulously awesome brown cardie ensemble that PJ wore during this interview:

   video here

Like I said.  Hero.

If you liked that, check out Dangerous Gladys' new costume blog:  It's all about tweeds, three piece suits and beautiful men dressed beautifully talking about how beautiful they are:  www.costumesdontsleep.com

Repel of the Week: Short 'n Sweet

Ext. University Grounds, Auckland - Day

GIRL nervously waits for the one lone BOY in her 'Existentialism: Why Bother?' class to come out.  His blond curls sparkle lovingly as the harsh Antarctic wind tussle it in delight.  She sighs.

GIRL: What are you up to now?  I was gonna go get a coffee if you wanna come?

BOY: Fuck off.*

Fin.

* Technically what came out was "No thanks, I'm going to go meet my girlfriend" which is the universal code for "No I do not want you, be gone you hideous beast and stop soiling my soul with your wretchedness."

Supreme Sandwich Winner

We had another fabulous list to woo you all with today but alas Minga was forced to do actual work and subsequently lost her faith in anything and is on the verge of projectile vomiting if she has to stare at a computer screen for much longer.

Hence we'll keep it short.  After a whooping 11 votes (wooooo!) we have our Supreme Winner of the Annual Sandwich Choice Awards 2010.

We wrote to his Supreme Sandwichness R-Patz to congratulate him and give him his award - a homemade promise ring with the initials SSS (Sandwich Sex Slave) and a voucher to Minga's favourite lasor hair removal place (with Sally, she's legendary).  Alas we only got a hold of his UK manager who in true Brit fashion told us: "That's not my job" and continued to instead babble on about the weather whilst queuing for a sandwich and beer at the local. 

The Legendary Brigitte Fontaine

Yesterday was a special day. Some would consider it to have been the first day of my old age.

What better way to usher in my twilight decades than to pay tribute to Brigitte Fontaine. She is virtually unknown in the English-speaking world, and not even particularly well known in the French-speaking world. This is a great tragedy. She's a true artist. Minga would love and want to be her.

I want to share a little Brigitte with you: 'Prohibition', a song written by her hubby, Areski, and that you'll find the clip for here.

The lyrics are basically impossible to translate, but here's my attempt:

The card that proved my many years

Reduced the bastards all to tears

Each one of them of a haughty sod

Regaling at my kick-ass bod

[CHORUS:]

This old girl says suck her cock

So little time left on her clock

So cute with her dragonfly

She'll be forgot and then she'll die

Just move along, you creepy twat

The buffet-wagon's where it's at

I'll go and smoke a fag or two

All nice and quiet in the loo

There's prohibition everywhere

There's trash and fags and pockets bare

They're boozing up now on TV

And ageing there for all to see

There's prohibition everywhere

You wonder why they even care

Though they talk, write and fornicate

No jizz for you, you're sixty, mate

[CHORUS]

If you're infirmed, you gotta go

Unless of course you've got the dough

You'll just be tossed into a ditch

Compassion's only for the rich

Guess what they've got in stall for me

A home in perpetuity

Never to see the light of day

If ever I should lose my way

Let me tell you what I've planned

How I will find my promised land

It's sex and drugs and rock and roll

There's nothing better for the soul

This old girl says suck her cock

No law, no faith, no fluffy flock

Her dragonfly awaits a kiss

Her cause of death will be her bliss.

Je suis vieille, et je vous... embrasse...

Como tú sabes amar…

Here at Sandwich, we like to think of ourselves as citizens of the world. Quite frankly, I like to think of myself as the most diverse of all of us, as a cousin to all the world’s homos, Czechs, French, Polynesians and Spanish.

Recently, I’ve been enjoying connecting to my Spanish (or rather Hispanic) heritage. In particular, I must thank a dear friend from Ecuador who introduced me to the wonder that is Sharon la Hechicera, or Sharon the Enchantress. For your information, no, she is my cousin because she is Hispanic, not because she is a mujer con sorpresa. Sharon, I'm a better maricón for knowing you.

"Don't [Let Me Repel You]"

It's been some time since I contributed to this blog, which I was blackmailed into contributing to. Time to end my participation paucity for a more positive reason.

I doubt that it will come as any surprise to you that I LOVE the Pointer Sisters. I remember when they released the single 'Don't Walk Away'. It wasn't having the runaway chart success that some DJ felt they richly deserved, and he made this known.

Reflecting not so long ago (and for God knows what reason) on that particular moment in the early 1990s, I made a promise to myself: upon learning that Sandwich had received more hits than the (non-live version of the) 'Don't Walk Away' video on-line, I would commemorate the moment (of bittersweet triumph) with a Pointer Sisters-related post.

So here it is. 'Don't Walk Away'. Enjoy:

My Own Private Sandwich

Once again your Sandwich whores are busy, attempting multiple repels, molesting random Austrian backpackers, avoiding Danish ones.  So here is another fabulous video find courtesy of Minga's Ultimate Porno, 'My Own Private Idaho' (though to be honest, we were a bit jipped as Keanu and River barely got it on...*sigh*).

Bring it on Hans....

Miss Universe 2010

My mentor, guru and ultimate dinner guest nominee, Chris Rock, once noted how he does not believe in The Stripper Myth, that strippers strip to pay their way through college.  He proudly asks, "Then how come I never got a smart lapdance?  How come I never got a girl going, 'ever since the end of the Cold War, I'm finding NATO obsolete'..."

So why are we bringing the idea of strippers and obsoletes under the Miss Universe umbrella?  Because Minga was forced to watch the god forsaken atrocity that is the Miss Universe pageant last night and cannot for the life of her understand why this hideous excuse for a cosmetic surgery orgy is still around.  Here's my beef on why it has and always will be, wrong:

1.  There is obviously a cosmetic surgeon monopoly on the girls.  They all lookalike.  You tell me how the Filipino looks half black, half Middle Eastern???

2.  It's owned by Donald Trump.  Dude who brags about his wealth but really is not that rich in comparison to the big honchos.  It's like comparing Lindsay Lohan to Robert Downey Jnr.  Yeah she did coke, but Downey probably helped raise the GDP of the entire nation of Colombia.

3.  Is it just me or does the show get more boring and banal?  Perhaps the contestants could walk in their swimsuits whilst reciting some Sartre?  Perhaps they could act out scenes from the books of Marquis de Sade whilst dressed in their national garb?  Perhaps they should unban the eligibility of trans-sexuals and stop accepting Singapore as a real country?  

4.  Do you think because she is named Miss UNIVERSE, once her reign ends, they shove her into a secret test rocket to send into outer space with hopes of running into an alien lifeforce?  Because first impressions count and perhaps if the aliens believe that all of humanity looks like this they might be more inclined to make contact?  Then again silicon would be such a waste in space where gravity is non-existent.  

5.  In conclusion, just like strippers, Miss Universe is cliched, desperate and wastes a lot of money, and just like NATO, it should definitely become obsolete.

Speaking of other fabulously ridiculous things that should not see the light of day again, our fashionable part time Sandwich wench, Titan Lover, found us this hilarious video.