Archive for March, 2013


I saw these swirly round flowers and thought they looked very mysterious (my nephew insisted that the green things next to it were tiny tiny bananas, no matter what I said to the contrary. They did look like bananas, though.)

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Because penguins don’t need to spend 7.5 hours in an office typing up reports about people’s houses. Or clean their rooms because they can just get up and move house.

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Image belongs to Sebastien Millon

We had a family celebration this weekend, which was a lovely celebration for the birth of my newest and tiny-est niece, which is called an ‘Aqeeqah‘ (this is when Muslims will sacrifice an animal as thanks to God for the gift of a new baby, which is then fed to relatives and then to the poor. If you can’t afford that then an alternative is just to give some money to charity). We did something similar for my (slightly older!) niece just a couple of months ago which was also, incidentally pinky and cupcakey, but just as family filled and fun.

There were of course, some seriously beautiful handmade cupcakes and cake pops made by my very talented sister, and plenty of fresh cream cake, presents, balloons and lots of little ‘uns all present – and not least the gorgeous guest of honour who was actually a good girl the whole night and did the nice thing of falling asleep half-way through.

And us being girly-girls, we all dressed up and had sparkly heels on and gossiped through the night with the only interruptions being more cuddly chiddlers with cute, fat hands who kept trying to grab cake they weren’t allowed (my mum horrified the family of a 7-month old cousin by feeding her Coca-Cola, but we just told them that we wouldn’t have been able to stop  her anyway – my mum is of the opinion that a “little bit of the stuff won’t hurt anyone”.)

But anyways, less of my yapping now anyway,  here’s a few pictures of the evening, and of course, the beautiful cakey goodness. Sorry if you’re on a diet. But not really.

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Thought this was cute, and I do love robot street art, the weirder the better. This is based on Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man design and was actually a little motif which was repeated along random streets in different places, which I love because it’s always entertaining trying to spot. Next, trying to find a Robot Mona Lisa portrait, perhaps.

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Back in the days when waking up at 8am to watch cartoons was a perfectly normal thing to do on a Saturday morning (anyone else used to watch Are you afraid of the dark? Dexter’s Lab?), one of the shows I loved watching was the original Power Rangers series. I followed this series when it first started, vivaciously learning the names of the characters and their Power Ranger ‘animals’(which was basically big, awkward-moving robots that which flew sparks and was in the colour of the corresponding Power Ranger).

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My favourite character, was always going to be, inevitably, the Yellow Power Ranger (played by the lovely Thuy Trang).
My reasoning is as follows:

  • There were only two girls in the original series, the pink Power Ranger and the yellow one. The yellow Power Ranger was called Trini, and was an Chinese-Asian woman, while the pink Power Ranger was a girl called Kimberly. Everyone else was a yucky boy.
  • I hated pink as a child. For years. This is also due to several reasoning – pigs and worms are pink, and they are yucky. Also pink was a colour I’d been forced to dress in for years. So naturally I would go the other way in my tom-boyish years. Even now, as comfortable as I am with the colour pink, I’d still pick another colour before I look at pink because I worry it’s a slightly Barbie-fied, bimbo-ish colour. Sorry, pink lovers.
  • The pink Power Ranger was a white girl. I am not a white girl, I am a reasonably brown, British-Pakistani girl. Trini was a different type of Asian, but she was still Asian. And naturally, I would relate to the token-Asian character of the series (I’m also sure it wasn’t a coinky-dink that the only black character of the series was given a black-coloured costume, while the Chinese character was given yellow. Racist much, Might Morphin Power Rangers producers? We didn’t notice much of that symbolism back then though, mind you.)

So there you go, from then on, Yellow Power Ranger, with her sabre-tooth tiger grinding robot became the one I was crazy about, and naturally she was the best fighter (she really wasn’t, none of them were) and yellow was a super-cool colour. The Yellow Ranger one was my hero, and while everyone was off fancying the pants off the Pink Ranger, I liked Yellow Ranger for being the token-ethnic-minority character, and frankly, for having a bit more sass than the pansy-ass Kimberly.

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From the shiny one-sie Lycra costume (complete with matching bike helmet), and the cringey lines like “It’s Morphing Time”, “Get off our planet! Cause we’re the Power Rangers!” and best (or worst) of all, “Make my monster grow!”, there were a lot of questionable things about the Power Rangers series which of course, made it all the more memorable in hindsight.

Not to mention the odd storylines in the show, like how one Power ranger kept changing colour from green to white whenever he kept changing from evil to good (I never did figure out what happened to him and whether he triumphed over being a teenager evil in the end). I also remember thinking that it was a bit lazy that Yellow Power Ranger Trini never got a boyfriend either, during those early PR years (Kimberly got the romance storyline, which essentially involved trying to decide whether to date Red macho Power Ranger or the confused Green/White one).

But I don’t think this was too much of a big deal, because for me being a Yellow Power Ranger was more than just being a yippity teen, she got to beat up some aliens and still go home (wearing yellow cday lothes even when she wasn’t in her costume) and have some ice cream at the end of the day.

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The Might Morphin Power Rangers came at a time when gaming and the Internet was strictly restricted to a Nintendo 64, and children didn’t spend their day with their heads stuck in their iPads, mobiles, PCs, cable tv or electronic watches. For girls like me, there wasn’t a lot of alternative role models besides Barbie and Sindy (who remembers that poor soul?), or otherwise combing the hair of that giant scary head with make-up – Trini the Yellow Power Ranger seems cheesy now, but she was someone who did martial arts, kicked aliens asses and had a diverse group of friends.

And yes, it’s something which was silly at the time too (a robot who said ‘Ai-ai-ai’ in every episode which was enough to make you want to break its head), but it was also fun pretending to do high kicks like a hero in the playground and dragging around a dinosaur toy which was meant to be a sabre-toothed tiger.

Right now, remembering the Yellow Ranger brings out the feminist in me, and although she was probably included just to have a token Asian in the group, for me she was the coolest because she was a girl who could defend herself, had pretty long black hair and didn’t need to act like a boy to be a hero. So in that way, I think we all need a little bit of the Yellow Ranger’s strength in us, sometimes.

The Lego CP30

It’s been a while since I posted some nonsense about Lego, so here’s CP3O on top gold form (plus a silver leg, they must have run out of the gold), looking like the butler-esque robot that he is. Best of all, he’s life-sized too, so you can stand next to him and hook your arms through his, like he’s your robot bride and the Apocalypse has just come. Y’know.

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In Brick Lane’s street art, of course. Probably not the most appealing image of being poked, but it’s almost kinda cute. Not sure what that big green thing is meant to be, though, it looks like a giant bogey, and I’m pretty sure that’s a mouse on that horse, too.

Kinda reminds me of one of those battle-scene paintings of the Napoleon wars, but gone weird, where the French are killing giant alien blobs instead of le Europeans.

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Apologies for the lapse in posts for a few days, I’ve been coughing and spluttering in my bed after a bout of illness (passed on by the generous family, who probably decided I *really* needed to feel their pain too). But I did have a good laugh reading some other articles during my rest, so here’s a few of them.

I’ve always thought superheroes like Superman were technically, illegal aliens. Here’s another blogger who takes a similar view of sci-fi characters being expatriates, although his version is a lot more articulate!

Speaking of superheroes, imagine if they were sponsored by famous brands? Here’s talented artist Roberto Vergati Santos’ take on it – McIron Muffin Man, mmmmmm.

Getting married? Here’s some sympathy for the diet you must be on.

Have you ever wanted to know what a live action Toy Story would be like? Me neither, but here’s the whole film anyway, in live(ish) action.

Anyone else get a postcard for Mother’s Day? (Or, how to read in-between the lines of what your family give you).

Miniature wire bonsai trees by Ken To, I think these are just cute and very well made.

When I was younger, I used to play with Barbie dolls. I’ll openly admit it (if I don’t I’ll get outed by the sisters anyway), and will also say that Barbie, in my house, had several jobs, outfits and wedding days with Ken. And the mystery of her gaining a new sister or two was never solved (we never did see any parents). Here’s a few jobs of hers which may have needed re-thinking.

Hope you all have a good weekend, I’ll be watching this movie, which is probably going to be as silly as the actors in it, but it should make me feel a bit better!

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The French Kiss/Lover’s Embrace statue at King’s Cross Station is a huge piece of bronze art created by sculpture Paul Day (although I have to admit, the Valentine’s handbag is the best bit about it). Although it’s been there for a few years, I haven’t seen it before, and the smaller engravings at the base was added more recently to the giant model.

I like that there’s a commuters theme to the statue, of trains and travelling, and of French meeting English, especially as the King’s Cross Station is the train station to get a direct train from London to Paris. There’s plenty of other art/pieces in this station (like the 9 and ¾ platform, which I have yet to gain access into), but I like this one because of how much it stands out (and because of the handbag).

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A short introduction, or something thereabouts, anyway. Hopefully they won’t read this and take it too seriously and cry into their books. And of course, I did little doodles of them, all of which are cute but very inaccurate, and which will probably offend at least one of them, but seeing as I’m the youngest and I’m allowed to be a brat, it’s all good.

Going in age order, of course, as we have been prone to do since childhood (just as Little Women had four sisters full of quirks, I’m pretty sure we correspond in a similar way.)

The Eldest: Happy Muslim Mama
She’s been a mum for more than ten years, but she’ll always be the book-worm, smarty pants and loves her dark red lipstick. She doesn’t really look much like this picture, but it does remind me of an old photo of her with massive sunglasses on with a big grin. I’d post the photo as well, but then she’d have to kill me.

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The Middle: Long-Suffering-Sister
Just to note, I didn’t  name her that. But it kinda stuck anyways. This picture looks NOTHING like her (she hasn’t had a bob cut since she was about 5, and even then it looked like a mop on her head). For some reason I though this doodle suited  her because she seems like one of those under-cover femme-fatale type. You know the type, by day a mousey librarian, by night a deadly ninja-fightin’ assassin. Did I tell you I watch too many films, by the way?

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The other middle one: Fashionishta
Probly the most opposite to me in tastes/looks/personality/hair styles, but also the closest in age. This doodle apparently looks like Lily Savage (thanks, you know who you are!) but I kinda like it cos it’s funky and reminds me of a kind of fashion designer Edith Head (aka Edna from the Incredibles). She’ll disagree, of course, but don’t mind her.

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And lastly, there’s me (aka Kooky Little Sister), but you can just call me Harlequin. The picture doesn’t really look like me (it’s more like how you might think you really look like), but to be honest, I just half-drew a random face then tried to finish it quickly and gave myself wonky eyes by accident. Oops. I remember the same problem when I had to do self-portraits in Art lessons at school, I tried to make my eyes look bigger but looked a bit Manga-fied instead. It was not pretty.

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And that’s all of us girls! We also have one brother too, but I don’t know how to draw boys because I haven’t got to that stage of the YouTube tutorial yet. Okay, I joke, I just couldn’t be bothered. Come visit us again soon!