google-site-verification: google935433b691795853.html KRISTY BERRIDGE: 2011-08-07

Saturday, 13 August 2011


Well, it's the end of another week. I may be a little late in this assessment given that it's already Saturday, but there are a few of us die hards out there refusing to pack up work on a Friday afternoon. I had grand designs of spending my weekend up a ladder, painting the rest of my house, but alas I think I'm lazy.
Barely any speckles of paint marring my skin, two sides were painted - a mammoth effort from my husband and mother. My father (definitely not a painter), even managed to whip up some architraves and putty some posts.
So, since I've established that my contribution to said paint job was minimal, I raise the question; Is painting the absolute crappiest job on the planet?
Um ... yes.
The sun has since gone down on Saturday, and I find myself looking into my backyard and writing a mental list of all the other jobs requiring paint. The shed (recently blown away in cyclone Yasi), that's going to need a couple of coats after it's finished being built. The back of the house? Well, I have to finish it, don't I? And inside? Jeesh, don't even get me started. What was I thinking with that teal green colour in my living room?
So, I guess that means I'm painting until I die, destined to be picking white undercoat from under my fingernails every Saturday night. On the upside the house is looking great and my lazy butt avoided hand cramps and a hardcore loofa session. It even left me with a bit of spare time to blog and find you a painting related joke. Please do not send death threats if you hate it.

John was going around door to door looking for odd jobs to do. He went to this house where an old man lived and the old man said he had a chore for him to do. He said that he would pay John fifty dollars if he painted the porch in the back. John said okay and got straight to work. One hour and thirty minutes later, he came inside, telling the old man he was finished. The old man paid him, and as John was walking away he said, 'By the way, it's not a Porsche ... it's a Lincoln.' ( 

Have a good one everyone!

Kristy :)

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Old School Movies

I've been busy people. Last time I said I'd tell you all about my trip down the forgotten cinematic route. I'd left displeased about my Mad Max experience and said I'd fill you in on Salem's lot. Well here it is ...
I think modern cinema has ruined me. Suspense is all contrived by music, and the special effects are about as creative as finger puppets in these supposed golden oldies. I jumped once during this movie, and it had nothing to do with the vampires. My husband scared the crap out of me, sneaking around the corner to ask what I wanted for dinner. Who would have thought that meatloaf could be so horrifying?
Needless to say I will not be going back for more. Three long hours of bad 'boos' was just about all I could take.
Next up was the Shining. I must have been on a bit of Stephen King binge, because let's face it, the guy is a creative genius and some of the book translations to movie have been gold in the past. The Shining definitely piqued my curiosity, particularly the choice of Jack Nicholson in the lead role. Can anyone do crazy any better? Probably, but I thought he was thorough in his delivery of a tormented, albeit possibly possessed husband stuck in isolation.
The only thing that drove me nuts was the same thing that makes me want to throw a brick through the television screen in nearly every horror driven film. The victims always back themselves into corners, lose nerve, or runaway and hide. Um hello, the knife is already in your hand, the crazy guy is incapacitated - just finish it while the going is good!
But I digress, these old films have their merit, and I'm sure during their time they were truly scary. But whether old or new, some things never change - I can't wait to watch them with the anticipation that something truly brilliant will evolve on my screen. I'll keep you all posted when that happens, ever hopeful that the monsters in the closet might one day flip the switch and roll credits with the good guy going ass up.
Waiting for the unexpected,

Kristy :)

Monday, 8 August 2011

Total techtard

Well, it's official. I'm a techtard. I may be able to click a mouse and use a keyboard, but I just managed to delete the first posted comment on my blog. Sorry about that Holjo (, I'll make it up to you with more techtardian twitter advice later!
Anyway, I've decided to keep it simple today. My favourite things are chocolate, movies, books and writing, so I'll stick to that - pretty sure I can't stuff it up too much.
Recently I've been taking a dive into the past, watching movies of yesteryear and gaining some insight on films deemed to have cinematic excellence in their time, or at the very least, gaining popularity with audiences. Regrettably I started said foray with the Mad Max series. Oh my God. I'm not sure what I can say that's suitably positive about this film. But we'll give Mel his dues, it was his first movie, so there was definite room for improvement, but what was everyone else's excuse?
Okay, so that was harsh, and I honestly did laugh pretty hard at the crazy villains and ridiculous outfits. But I think the part that made me laugh the most was that I went back for seconds and watched the second film in the series with designs on the third. (Insert expletive here) it was ....
Needless to say I'm not sure if I should go back for thirds. I may be a techtard, but I'm not a bloody idiot. I think it's safe to say I'll happily delete that DVD from my collection and try something else.
Stay tuned for my Salem's Lot run through. It shouldn't take long, even if the film sucked three hours of my life away that I'll never get back. Let me know what you all think.

Kristy :)

Sunday, 7 August 2011


Well, this is a new and confusing venture for me. I spend a lot of my time reading blogs, but I never thought I'd venture into having one of my own. I think you'll find I'll inevitably spend more time blogging about useless crap than my recently published book 'The Hunted'. So I'll apologise now.
The poor people of twitter and Goodreads have recently had to endure my 'no owies campaign', recently established because I stood on a rusty nail during construction of my new patio and earned myself a rather nasty tetanus shot. Anyway, you get my point. The day only gets interesting when you idiotically hurt yourself. So stay tuned, hopefully I'll think of something more interesting to say than 'I brushed my teeth twice yesterday'.