Rachel Mcadams Hot

Hellraisers. Quite a generic term, for me however it suggests a type who is prone to wrecking furniture and creating general havoc whilst necking gunk (all alocoholic spirits available at the time sloshed into one pitcher and consumed greedily). They are a dying breed and a club to which people such as Pete Doherty and Colin Farrell do not belong, despite labelling by tabloids, as the former is certainly more of a poet and the latter is just plain lucky. I am very interested in this extravagant and destructive clique, the patron saints of which are surely the likes of Richard Burton, Richard Harris, Oliver Reed and Peter O'Toole. They were dead set against living life in an ordinary manner and set about doing the exact opposite to the best of their abilities.

In a sober spirit, I am probably too cautious to be considered a hellraiser. However, the little connections are there. I share the same starsign as Burton and Harris had links with my Irish family. His was a rather fabulous house in Kilkee, County Clare and my uncle acted in a Jim Sheridan picture with him. I drink in one of O'Toole's favourite pubs when in London (The Coach & Horses, in Covent Garden), which is a great place to have a bourbon and meet lots of interesting people. With regard to Ollie Reed, I can't claim to have anything in common with, other than a disdain for the ordinary and fondness for vodka.

I may be just a romantic drunk, but I found their conquest to have a good time, create havoc and act like lords in between making classic films and stage productions rather heroic. Truly though, I could certainly not have married one of them (especially having read accounts from their ex-wives) and understand that theirs was a lonely quest; that kind of lifestyle would obliterate relationships and attract hangers-on at every turn. But it's the stories that count, isn't it? The anecdotes I have heard simultaneously amuse me and arouse tiny pangs of jealousy that I have failed to capture that madness thus far. "It's different for a woman." In so many respects, it kind of is. However, I have a strong predilection to reject the ordinary and in a way, regular aspects of life are a real chore to me. Money does make slaves of men and it's an easy trap to fall into.

The nihilistic attitude of the hellraisers is what draws me to them. I wish I could attain that lack of care, to just not give a fuck. Occasionally, I don't and make incredibly reckless decisions but boy, have these decisions often paid off! I'm interested in the whole cosmic ordering process, going with your gut instinct and not getting hung up on situations turning out in a certain way. Perhaps that is what makes people lucky?

A constant onslaught of vodka is not good for one's health (try 2 bottles a day with a bottle of port and brandy, as Richard Harris did at one stage) but a devil-may-care attitude can work wonders for your day to day life.

I highly recommend that you seek out the films of the aforementioned actors, read a book called "Hellraisers" and check out the various biographies written about and by the men themselves ("Rich", by Melvyn Bragg is glued together by sections of Burton's personal diaries, which are incredibly compelling). Also, try searching "oliver reed interviews" on Youtube to be amused at Reed's antics and moved by his eloquence when speaking.