I'd really like some water

ég er kominn aftur
inn í þig
það er svo gott að vera (hér)

en stoppa stutt við ..

Its 20 past 5, which means its officially been the end of February and the start of March for 5 hours and 20 minutes. It also means, for those of you not lucky enough to ever have heard them, that SIGUR ROS is this morning's 'what I'm listening to'. Google them, spotify them, find them on iTunes - anyone with a penchant for haunting, ethereal icelandic falsetto with a healthy smattering of pure beauty shouldn't come away disappointed. The particular track is 'Svefn-G-Englar', from the album 'Ágætis byrjun'. Damn, it's bizarrely beautiful.

I'm bored and have no intention of sleeping anytime soon, and have thus been drawn to the infinite portal of wonder and terror that is The Internet. For reasons unbeknownst even to myself, I've been trying to find the music that plays on the Disney World adverts; it's difficult to describe. It plays over all the kind of panning CG shots of the disney castle in the clouds, its a mixture of old school disney soundtrack, something like Beauty and the Beast perhaps, with a hint of Lord of the Rings. Don't ask me why, I just crave hearing it again.

Any ideas?

BUT - my incessant searching for answers has brought me to the first step toward what I've been brought up to believe are the gates of hell - disneyworld itself. I like to imagine it's like the richer sections of Benidorm, except Winnie the Pooh and Tigger hug you more often. My attention is drawn predominantly to a feature advertised on several websites - the infallible abyss that manifests itself in the sickeningly retarded sounded 'Bibbidi Bobbodi Boutique'. The what?

Satan's palace, seen from the outside.

From what I gather, it's this horrific salon in the big castle where from a minimum of $50 and up to $150, your child can take a break from consuming sugar, starch and fat and be lacquered with cheap hairspray, glitter, makeup and a poundstore tiara by some underpaid Floridian grandma and her hordes of sweet talking minions. Your little princess of the underworld can then frolick through the park in all her sweaty, synthetic sweetness until about 2pm, when she'll probably look more like she will during her first year of university - sweaty, with smushed up eye makeup and removing her clothes.

Run for the hills.

This is all that the internet has to offer tonight; certainly all that I can be arsed to provide some kind of running commentary on. The final item of noteworthy mention: the reason why I stick to BBC news. Below is a screenshot from the Google news homepage - I'm aware that google are the worst culprits for blurring the lines between news and entertainment, but this is pushing it a bit far. Made me laugh though. Keep entertaining, Israel!

Look at the first story under the 'entertainment' section on the left. Open in a new tab if you need a better view.

Peace and love, yo.