October 2011
Sometimes I think "That's Not My Name" by The Ting Tings is dedicated to Ann Veal
They call me egg
They call me Annabell
They call me her?
They call me plain
_
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
_
They call me Ann-hog
But I’m the wall yeah
Maybe that church thing
Always the same
_
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
That’s not my name
September 2011
Two different interviews. Two different stories.
- Viggo: There are some very good women riders in New Zealand and it would be silly not to take advantage of them (as in extras)...but it could be confusing at times.
- Dom: I actually happen to know of a story of Viggo becoming quite fond of a Rohan man who turned out to be a woman.
- Viggo: I can't honestly deny anything that Mr. Monaghan has said or implied.
- Dom: With a strawberry blonde beard. I always knew Viggo had good taste. I mean, never go for the kind of dark-brown beard, but strawberry blonde. Something that really brings out her skin texture.
- Viggo: But I am thankful that he did show a measure of discretion.
- Dom: She's a woman, so I do get that out of her, but she's also bearded which means, you now, I kind of get a different spin on things.
- Viggo: And gentlemanly...restraint.
- Dom: And that's fine, you know. Viggo's an artist and he can do whatever he wants. It's not really gonna float my boat but I'm not going to say anything against him. You just keep on trucking Viggo.
“Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees. In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and watching them. The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice:
‘What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?’” —(via thethirdage)
‘What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?’” —(via thethirdage)
Excuse me if I gawk, if I balk, if there's a pause in my talk
You’ve got me tongue-tied, girl