Morticia Morgendorffer

Why you mustn’t miss the magic of Timothee Chalamet’s Wonka The best way to receive art is to absorb it like a sponge absorbs water. The sponge knows not the nature of the liquid - it embellishes itself to retain anything it is given with its whole soul [don’t ask me if I’m saying that inanimate objects have a soul]. A lot of times I don’t go watch a movie in the theatres if I’m not particularly excited about it, or if people everywhere are talking shit about it. Sometimes I don’t like when a classic has been remade with actors I don’t care about. What I’m trying to say is, there’s a million reasons you’d give yourself to not go watch a movie in the theatre and wait for it to be streamable from the comfort of your home. So when Wonka finally came out to theatres, I was skeptical at first. The last time I saw Timothee Chalamet in a movie, he was staring at a fire with Sufjan Stevens’ Visions of Gideon playing in the back which felt like a deliberate punch in the gut nobody asked for.

  If you’ve been a regular reader of this godforsaken blog, you might’ve read the fictional stories [Part 1: Girl meets boy & Part 2: The Lost Dog]. It might be a great time to tell you that those fictional characters were [very] loosely based on my friends in college.  Friends in college can be a whole ass experience because the morons you hang out with can either make or break you. Literally. They’re like skunks who imprint on your spiritually and leave you with personality traits that last you a lifetime.  There’s a reason that The Breakfast Club is a cult classic. There’s a reason why every one of you cried like a bitch when Tony Stark died. There’s a reason why we all sing along to the Barden Bellas, or love to see three friends outrun bulls and waste tomatoes in Spain and a reason that when Farhan and Raju go looking for their friend Rancho, we want to go along with them - because as human beings, we all deserve and need people who get us, who make life simpler. We are t

  I’ve changed three houses in 4 years. If you know me, you know I’m an easily adjustable person to live with. I keep to myself, don’t make unnecessary fusses, and am too uninterested and barely have the time to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. But about 4 months ago, when I first realised I have to shift houses, I began to question whether it, in fact, is me who might be the problem. Full disclosure - I had to vacate the first house because the owner wanted to sell it so it wasn’t entirely up to me. The second house, on the face of it, offered a smaller room but ample storage. What it lacked in space, it made up for in furnishings. New furniture, quaint society, and the location well-connected to most hotspots in the city, I never really thought I’d ever feel the lack of anything here. Except I did. I should’ve known there was something wrong with my flatmate very early on, but maybe I just wasn’t invested enough to care. Our ‘initial bonding’ began with us sharing a smoke and ta

 P.S. This is a shitty exercise where I write shitty reviews of the shit I watch so I write more. You're welcome to fuck off. But if you're looking to pass your time reading something that doesn't weigh on your featherweight brain, please go ahead because in this blog, we count down Swisstea's best to least favourite episodes of the newest season of Black Mirror. #1 Loch Henry In many ways, Loch Henry is like watching Gordon Ramsey prepare a personal dish for you. He loves the meal he’s making and he’s going to start by demonstrating it to you like introducing a loved one. He goes, step by step, adding the flavours, asking you to take a whiff every once in a while, so much so, by the end of it, you can’t wait to dive into it. Sorry. I think I’m hungry. But that’s how this episode feels to me too. Hate to say this, but the crime fiction fanatic in me savoured the meal the screenplay of this episode was.[notice how I say ‘crime fiction’ and not ‘true crime’ because my rom

  In an episode of Ted Lasso I watched yesterday, the two main characters of a story share their deepest, sincerest feelings about their dads. Ted, after a panic attack, reveals to his therapist that his dad killed himself when Ted was 16 - an occurrence that made Ted hate his dad for quitting on him and his mom. Rebecca, after an angry outburst at her dad’s funeral, reveals to her mom how years ago, she had caught her dad cheating on her mom, earning him Rebecca’s lifelong hatred. Ted eventually goes on to recount a good memory of his dad, where his dad sat up the entire night to read a book that Ted had to read for a test and how on his way to dropping him to school the next day, narrated the entire book to Ted who scores an A. A few months ago, listening to Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers, I lost control a bunch of times. As in, breaking down in tears because of how goddamn hard some of the words hit home. In the ending verse of ‘Father Time’, Mr Lamar implores those who grew up