(Lio videos)
Amoureux Solitaires, 1980
Sage comme une image, 1980
Amicalement votre, 1981
Les matins de Paris (Teki Latex), 2007
(a happy ending)
Apropos of nothing (both there and here), Basketbawful goes into inexplicable detail about most of the things that made The Marine my second favorite movie of 2006 (The Departed being the first). Read it.
There is a long-winded explanation why this song is my head. Long story short: This song is in my head, and I share it with you.
All right, let's do it!
EDIT: WHY DO THEY KEEP TAKING HIM AWAY FROM ME. Oh well, I hope THESE will stick around for longer than a day.
In celebration of starting weekends avoiding my thesis the right way with Tim "Spinnin'" Schoemer and the B96 Friday Night Dance Party (throooaaah-wiiinnn-dooowwwn):
Do I own that album? Yes. Yes, I do.
I need to party with Dr. Steve. This must happen. Seriously, it's an emergency.
EDIT: Oh nooooooo! I guess I shouldn't have believed it was OK for the entire next show to be up online three days before it airs. It was good while it lasted, though. Instead, here's Dr. Steve fighting ... for your love!
I need more structure and joy in my life (who doesn't?) so I'm going to start posting objects that bring me joy. YOU LOVE IT.
There are few objects in this world that bring me more joy than Les Desmoiselles de Rochefort, or as they say in America, The Young Girls of Rochefort. I wish this movie was a documentary about my life. I still remember sitting in a screening with all these smug assholes snickering (snickering! I mean really) because they didn't have the STONES to face the magnificence of ecstatic zazz without getting all defensive about it. Man, F those people. Anyway, here's a wake-up call to awesome in the form of the trailer. Subtitles? Shut up, you don't need 'em!
Dude, when I looked this up I found a BONUS object of joy, which is, holy shit, Patrick Juvet (!) and Amanda F-ing Lear (!!!) performing the signature "La chanson des jumelles"--oh my God, my brain just melted.
That was a more progressive time, 1979. In France. Ah heck, we need some bonus Amanda mugging with D.B. during "The 1980 Floor Show":
Aww, that's love! And when the song was over, they all snorted the set. Finally "Queen of Chinatown," in which she tells a story in song ... and hand gestures!
I like that one a lot. She sounds like Al Stewart. I feel happier now, don't you?
When I see something like this, I think maybe I shouldn't be so down on this season after all:
Gettin' it! RROWR! Apparently he's kinda back to being all feisty and awesome, and not just in my personal sense which is blind to all fact, evidence and reality. Now maybe if we got more than like five televised games here I'd know better.
Yes, today marks the fourth anniversary of the day I married ah-one Christopher Robin Zimmerman (you must read that in a Megan from "Wake Up Wakefield" voice), so in celebration of our glorious union, here is one of our favorite songs. I dare you to avoid getting emotional.
I am eternally grateful that I can always turn to Dr. Steve Brule when I need a moment of joy in my life. He really takes it to the next level here.
Jan and Wayne are at the top of their games as well. I shake my head and grimace like that every day at work!
Oh man. We totally need to go to Chicago to spend St. Patrick's Day with Egyptian Lover. Who's with me?
If this video doesn't convince you, then I don't know what to do, son.
Brad is back and he brought a haircut with him. THANK GOD.
Speaking of back, I'm back from out of town, but I'm still out of it. Why am I awake? What am I doing here? I've just got to make it to winter break. A real winter break. I love when offices do that. I love that my office does that. I hope your office does that too, and if they don't I wish they did. I'm full of good feelings for life and living and you and me and God and the Bible. It must be Brad's haircut.
Maybe this is something everyone has seen already and I'm just late to the party, but if it is, I don't care, because it is mesmerizing and awesome and I want to keep it with me forever.
I can't stop watching it. Oh man. Thank you Albert.
The Internet finds me great things:
AL! One of my world's favorite people. Read this. It's awesome.
This is actually in print. With a crappy cover but oh well. OMG.
You mean this is actually finally going to come out someday? And it's CHEAP?!
Is it bad that I want all of these? It is, isn't it? OK, I'll stop now.
Two things I love:
1) Time Warner Cable
2) Dominick Dunne's Power Privilege and Justice
Our Time Warner Cable got I guess "absorbed" by Comcast so I must learn to live with that. (Admittedly Comcast is much improved over the horror that we dealt with in California. I hope they don't find a way to make me regret making that statement.)
Now they took away my Court TV on Demand channel. JUST TOOK IT AWAY. How dare they. This means I cannot watch Dominick Dunne's Power Privilege and Justice ... on demand. This world is so cruel.
PANDA BABIES. I've watched this at least 50 times this week. CRANK IT UP (when the ad is over).
P-RUNWAY! I love P-Runway. These girls are so boring though, except the lantern-jawed Margit Carstensen who needs to stop showing me her ribcage (although can I have that black lace overlay dress she wore for the runway please) and then that dewy-skinned pixie lady who just looks so cute all the time it makes me sick. So many bitchy dudes! Yay! P.S. I hate all the dresses tonight. Is that one made out of truffles? Gross. P-RUNWAY!
If Ashanti says "hasta la vista (snap)" on my TV one more time I will throw it out the window. (No I won't. I know it will happen again.)
Ohhhh broseph, look at that. It is Christmas in July. It is USA Basketball practice time! So I rush home today, right, to find pictures of a certain professional athlete in his Team USA gear (I have my priorities) and what do I find? A blog, son!
I will admit after the first graf I kind of went Zzzzzz but I perked up instantly at "after 10 minutes, it was like 'Man,'" which is exactly the kind of musical storytelling magic I was anticipating.
I just pray that whoever the hater is at NBA.com will stop using that ancient jug-eared Caesar bangs picture already, because a part of me dies every time I look at it. Stop the madness.
Today was kind of a drag, because each day I work a 9-hour shift and get paid for 8 hours of it -- you know, they tell me I get a break and all that but I never take it -- and somehow I ended up working like 11.5 hours straight. And I don't get paid for that, mind, and won't. I don't get comp time, I don't get overtime, and the work I did is certainly all for nothing. And now I'm allowed a generous one-day weekend before I'm back in the office Monday morning after losing an hour to daylight savings.
The sad, sad irony of it all was wearing this T-shirt today. Someone send me back to hustla school.
The good things: Tomorrow is WrestleMania Sunday, so the house is full of WrestleMania snacks. Chris is making some kind of crazy thing in the crock pot for tomorrow and he has provided me with Dutch Crunch and Oreos. This house is LOUSY with Dutch Crunch and Oreos. Spectacular.
Another good thing is KINGS WIN KINGS WIN. WE'RE #8. PLAYOFFS BABY PLAYOFFS. Brad, once again, exhibiting signs of a playoff beard. My stress is lifting just looking at it. You can't see it in this picture, but he's standing next to ICE CUBE!
Oh, OH, and then "Liza With a Z" tonight. It was beautiful. I got to say FOSSE! a lot while watching it, which I always enjoy. AND! she had the most fabulous fake lashes and I sat mesmerized, coveting them. Obscenely long ones.
Suitably inspired, I put on my most outlandish set of lashes (Shu Uemura #79!) and now I'm sitting here in my in my slippers and crazy lashes watching Superman II. C'mon, people, where the party at?
I really didn't!
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Things I'm wondering right now:
*I REMEMBER! It was why no Ismail Merchant obits were mentioning the majesty and wonder and sheer awesomeness that is Slaves of New York. Oh man. Hated the book, love love love the movie.
We were just watching "Numbers," sorry, "NUMB3RS," from a couple of weeks back and Ethan Embry was on it and holy moly, what happened?
When did he get so ... beefy? And so BALD?! Crazy.
I'm at least hopeful his Drowning Pool facial hair was "for the role."
How much do you want to bet Fred Durst wrote his crappy "Revelations" dialogue himself.
P.S. KARE 11, way to go Einsteins for showing all those cop killings on the day the entire metro shuts down for a policeman's funeral. Shame shame shame shame shame!
I need to do this more often. I need to start doing RBRT again. I need to keep carrying this laptop around where ever I go until all of this becomes like uh, I just sit around here in bed typing and not actually watching anything on TV.
My eMac, Crow II, he's a little unhappy right now. I guess he is jealous of SOL and he kind of stopped working for the time being. Poor Crow II. He's beyond help and I think we have to bring him to a so-called Genius Bar where all the young nerds and skinhead lesbians will say "Uhhh" and eventually figure out to try everything we've already tried, including our own patience har har. Poor Crow II though. He's too young to be going through this.
Tiger didn't do him in, incidentally. I think he just has a bad allergic reaction to something. Poor Crow II.
Do you watch "The Contender"? Love it. Love it. Love it. So awesome.
I am so bored with everyone on American Idol I can't even be bothered to say anything about it. I can't believe it's practically over already. "I'll start writing about it next week ... ohh."
It's raining out right now and it is so awesome.
Speaking of awesome, I found the awesomest thing today. Check it out check it out, National Weather Service RSS feeds for watches and warnings and forecasts and I'm obsessed.
Next we should get a NOAA Weather Radio and make Paul proud.
WTF is CBS making a fake Project Runway with eew, Tommy Hilfiger.
This laptop business is frigging handy. No wonder Crow II is upset.
Holy OMG, we went to Staraoke tonight? WHATEVER DID I DO
"Accidents Will Happen" (Elvis Costello etc.)
"Reelin' in the Years" (Steely etc.)
"We're an American Band" (Grand Funk etc.)
One of these I did for the first time. DO YOU KNOW WHICH ONE IT IS?!
Have you seen the movie "Groupie"? If you have or you haven't you should tell me, because I got it on the DVD and it is fascinating.
Hahahah Bo Bice, who I like to call Bo Butt, hahahahaha suck it~~~~~~
I got Georgie Fame's 20 Beat Classics and Alan Price's A Price on His Head and they're like my new favorite albums. Thank you Germans! You know how to reissue.
I also got the Fantomas special edition CD with the calendar. Which if someone were to ask me what my record store purchases say about me, it would clearly be "I am a sucker."
I tend to babble when I've been drinking.
Work tomorrow? Oh man. NEWS, why can't you STOP HAPPENING.
Love,
Kim!
P.S. the new pair of shoes? Choco cupcake brown Lilly Pulitzer slip-on backless loafers with hot pink trim, 70% off at Saks off Fifth -- F-I-F Fifth -- they're moccasiny delicious.
I need to go to sleep now.
This is why I love the WOW Report:
Frankly, this movie, I'm Not There: Suppositions on a Film Concerning Bob Dylan, seems like another of [Todd Haynes'] pretentious and boring, overrated conceits that will stink up the screen but wow critics because critics always appreciate the sleep Haynes' films afford them in the midst of their hectic screening schedules. They can rant positively about his films because they've had delightful naps and may have actually dreamed another movie entirely.
I couldn't have said it better myself. Actually I have, but it's nice to be validated by others.
And that whole sleeping during screenings thing? Totally happened to me when I had to write up Velvet Goldmine. Prettiness and Ewanness aside, I still hated it!
R.I.P. Brigitte Mira. I can't read German either, but I can't find an obit for her in English yet.
Apparently there's one on Variety, which I can't read without a subscription and besides, it's for someone named "Brigitta Mira." Way to go Einstein!
Wait, here's one in English. That just might become my new favorite site.
Anyway, she was an awesome lady. I hope someone puts out Like a Bird on a Wire someday.
Since I've got Looking for Mr. Goodbar on TV in the background (why do I always watch this when it's on? do I hate myself? I mean really), I was inspired to finally get a copy of Donna Summer's superhumanly fabulous cover of "Could It Be Magic" off of iTunes, right, and clicking on all the songs from A Love Trilogy (1976! Giorgio! THE MUNICH MACHINE!) I discovered that The Apple ripped off this album's "Wasted" practically note for note for the disgusting "Coming". Yes, that song. Ew. It is the same flipping song. I'd go as far as to say it's the same exact flipping song.
If you know The Apple like we know The Apple, it must be heard to be believed. Even this clip gives you everything you need to know. It's astounding. How did this slip by us until now? Does my husband not already own this album? Did he not listen to anything after "Try Me, I Know We Can Make It"? Somehow I find that tard to believe.
My brother already reminded me that The Apple's lynchpin weepie "Where Has Love Gone" totally rips off "Look at Me Now" by ELO (check it) but this is ridiculous. Are there any original songs on this soundtrack? If there are doppelgängers of "Bim" and "How to Be a Master" out there, my faith in THE POWER OF ROCK ... IN 1994 will be shattered. How can "Showbizness" not be a firsthand creation? Forget it, Vladek Sheybal's science is just too tight.
Oh no look out, it's disco William Atherton! Jesus, this movie.
It's been really irritating me, how on "Passions" they decide to put yet another character (Theresa`````) in a wheelchair, because we all remember how fun it was when Ivy was driving herself around for two years, right?
It's also been bugging me how Theresa would name her magic baby Jane (much to the justified dismay of the Janest), when it seemed much more Theresa-like to name her after one of Gwen's favorite dead aunts or something.
You know what's coming. Baby Jane. Wheelchair. Duh.
I can't believe it took me this long to realize it. Theresa: Joan Crawford, Gwen: Bette Davis. Better still, they'd put revenge-crazed Rebecca in there instead, because you know she's good with crazy lady makeup.
Between the "bad Bette Davis movie" line and the Mommie Dearest reference in the last week, I can't possibly be wrong. Unless they're trying to make me wrong. Which just seems like the kind of thing "Passions" would to do me these days. Ugh.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Every so often, a movie comes along that is so astoundingly inept that you cannot help but be wowed and enthralled by its incompetence. Ladies and gentlemen, this is one of those movies.
In the Kingdom of the Blind, the Man With One Eye Is King (1995): Oh. My. God. I hope William Petersen was paid a trillion dollars to be in this movie, otherwise he got ripped off. Anyway, I was like "oh hey" when I saw this in the cable guide because I knew it was one of those Petersen deep cuts that I would have no chance of seeing or bothering to see without stumbling upon it by chance. I would call this the Cobra of crappy Reservoir Dogs ripoffs, but it is undeserving of such praise.
This is supposed to be a New York mob movie, I guess, which totally explains why people are riding the L.A. Metro, and also why gangsters are seen hanging out in caves. It starts out with Michael Biehn, an apparent "Westie," torturing some dude in a cave and then crucifying him. Yes. On a cross. When your mafia movie touchstone is Duke Mitchell's The Executioner, you are in for a bad time. We know Michael Biehn is a "Westie" because he's all, like, "Why did you go to [obvious Italian gangster name] when you could have come to me, Jackie Ryan, who would give you anything you ask for?" Anyway, it's that whole deal where the guy is spouting all philosophical religiousness like "people who think they are God should know that no man can be God!" for 10 minutes before he kills a guy. THINK ABOUT IT.
And then the screen goes black, ooh. And we never see any of those characters again!
Next we meet our hero, Al. Al is an Italian cop. We know this because when he is greeted by his wife, she calls him "Detective Scarpelli" or whatever. Al is a doughy douchebag with a thinning mullet who looks like a really fat Joe Flaherty. (Apologies to the real Joe Flaherty, whom I actually consider to be kind of hot.) Al comes home to his grand estate filled with roses and a zillion lit candles because you know us bitches don't have anything better to do with our time. He finds a note from his daughters that reads "Have fun, Daddy!" in crayon. I just threw up in my mouth a little. His daughters are his little angels. We know this because there are pictures of his daughters and Botticelli cherubs everywhere. Because they're ITALIAN. The zillions of candles lead Al out to his enormous swimming pool, where we meet his impossibly hot wife, Stephanie Seymour, who is played by Hope from "Days" before she turned into Skeletor. She's in a swimming suit and starts making out with him.
At this point, I speculate the man playing Al (see picture above) must have also written and directed this movie. Did you guess that too? Yes! And hey, you know something? We're absolutely right! We're so smart. If we're so smart, then why are we watching this? I don't know, I'm just mesmerized.
Also, please note that the fat dude who lives in the grand estate with a giant swimming pool and an impossibly hot wife is a cop and he lives in New Jersey. Check.
Now things begin to get foggy as I sink deeper into hypnosis. There's a strip club called "The Classy Lady" and a bunch of leather-jacketed toughs who all appear to have been members of The Blackhearts at one time or another. We learn that one of them is in love with a stripper and wants her to stop living that life because even though he's tough, he feels. But she's too hard, man, too hard to be a happy wife with kids and a white picket fence and dammit, why can't he accept that! And the guy gets enraged and starts a fight with about eight other people and gets tossed out of The Classy Lady, yet his sunglasses remain firmly on his face the entire time. This is the magic of Hollywood.
And then ... the screen goes black. And we never see any of THOSE people again, except for our main three Blackhearts, one of whom is wearing a black leather trenchcoat that is ripped straight from the pages of International Male. And they ride the L.A. Metro to an unknown destination in Manhattanish or Brooklynesque.
Next we are on one of those typical streetcorners where Black People hang out, complete with an ashcan full of burning trash and a fake Boyz II Men singing fake a cappella R&B:
Young at Hea-art
Young at Heart is comin'
Young at Hea-art
Young at Heart is comin' — ooh
Comin' to you
Young at Heart is comin'
Young at Hea-art
Young at Heart is comin'
I'm not even exaggerating, that is a literal transcription and I don't think I will ever forget that song, ever.
Then a limo pulls up and it's pimp Paul Winfield as Mr. Bigg. He says the "n" word so you know he's street. He's got a phone in the the limo that basically looks like someone borrowed their office console for the day and propped it up in the back window. I'm obsessed with it. He sends one of the young streetcorner dudes to give a message to the Italians. Don't worry about the details, because William Petersen will kill the guy in about five minutes. And then ... wait for it ... the screen goes BLACK. (That's racist!) And we NEVER see PAUL WINFIELD ... or our new favorite R&B supergroup YOUNG AT HEART ... AGAIN!
OK, I know this is a lot to take in. Are you with me? So like, all of this stuff, you don't know how any of it relates to the other stuff, and it really doesn't, because, as I pointed out, you will more or less never see any of these people ... AGAIN! But instead of being like, "I am intrigued to discover how all these characters relate to one another," you just simply don't care because, in fact, pretty much none of these characters relate to one another.
Now, all that up there? That's about as complex as the story gets, because after this, almost nothing happens. Essentially The Blackhearts killed an important mob guy, and William Petersen is angry about it, and somehow he knows that one of The Blackhearts is Al's brother. Meanwhile, William Petersen and Al have some kind of "past" involving "police corruption" and "dealings" and "tapes of evidence" and "money". So William Petersen decides to send Al to take care of The Blackhearts as revenge for them killing the mob guy, somehow, because ... perhaps someone, somewhere, thought this would be poetic and meaningful.
I'm disappointed we never get to see this important mob guy who gets killed, by the way. At least that cameo appearance would be endemic to the plot. Certainly Ben Gazzara didn't have anything better to do back then.
Oh! And there's some great great dialogue in this movie, like when Al and Hope from "Days" are talking about all that crappy stuff women like to talk about, like their relationship and communication and feelings, there is a beautiful moment:
Al: You're upset. Here, have some more ice cream.
Hope: I don't want more ice cream! [pause, pause, pause]
Me: I want you.
Hope: [pause, pause] I want you.
Then, when William Petersen brings Al into his office (is that a picture of Mussolini on the wall?), they get a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and proceed to pour what is obviously flat cola. It is dark brown, people. Petersen makes awesome hammy faces while he's drinking it, too. He's a brilliant professional. Anyway, he flies into a rage about what's going to happen when word gets out that the important mob guy got killed, right? And this is basically a reprise of something he's already said earlier, but with a special twist at the end:
Petersen: When [whoever] finds out his brother is dead, people are gonna start getting killed! And no one ... [pause, pause]
Me: ... is gonna be safe.
Petersen: [pause] ... is gonna be safe!
I love William Petersen.
So now the rest of the movie, which goes on for at least another hour, is one long fake Reservoir Dogs complete with guys in matching outfits fighting in a warehouse after pulling a job and oh it went wrong and whose fault is it and Mexican standoffs and "I'm scared" and handcuffings to chairs and beatings and insightful exchanges between characters:
Blackheart 1: It's like a guy's dream t'walk inna strip club and have a stripper fall in love with him.
Blackheart 2: Yeah, but for me, that dream ... [pause]
Me: ... turned int—
Blackheart 2: ... turned into a nightmare!
Once Al shows up at the warehouse to confront The Blackhearts, we get some more insight into why this movie was made in the first place, because all the guys, who are all young and reasonably good looking (for Blackhearts that is) and not fat old douchebags with thinning hair, get tied to chairs to "confess" their crimes, but instead they spend the whole time confessing the sin of envy because oh, they've all been so jealous of Al because Al is so great! All the teachers loved him in school! He's got a hot wife and a great job and a million friends! He's so smart! Mom liked Al best! He was the captain of the football team and everyone thinks he's #1! If only ... oh, if only people could have felt that way about us, The Blackhearts, but no, we were always trapped in the shadow of Al's awesomeness!
I swear, that is the entire rest of the movie, is these guys falling over themselves to praise the greatness of Al and how much they wish they were him and how their lives were ruined because they were not Al, the best guy in the world. I'm not even exaggerating. Then Al kills everyone and dies. The end.
Incidentally, I think the real quote is "In the village of the blind, the man with one eye is king," 'cause, like, if it was a kingdom of the blind, then the king would be blind too, right? Or hmm, maybe that was intentional. THINK ABOUT IT.
FINALLY. It's the League Pass commercial featuring my "favorite fantasy player," heh heh heh. I'm sorry, that's terribly inappropriate. Anyway, I finally managed to dupe it off the DVR cache before I changed the channel and lost it forever (which has happened). It sure took long enough; they practically never show this one. And it's the BEST ONE.
click to open movie in a new window
Note the Vlade poster under Brad's nameplate.
I compressed it into a tiny .mov, but I'll probably get around to making a better copy for the Web later. Not like anyone cares about this other than oh, me. But it's so delightful, I have to share it.
I feel our lives are all the richer for having welcomed "Nick & Jessica's Family Christmas" into our home. We're celebrating the triumphant return of 98º. Somewhere in America, G`` K`````` feverishly updates his controversial report on the decline of the boy band phenomenon, certain someone will still pay him if he delivers it three years late.
Jessica: "I wish I could sing with Bing Crosby." Nick: "I'll be Bing!" Nick starts BEATING HER. And then the ghostly visage of Bing appears behind them and he starts beating them both. This show rules.
When exactly did the whole Victorian/pioneer blouse come back in style? I anxiously await the return of boatneck sweaters with dolman sleeves and shoulder pads up to the ears.
For some reason, I felt it was important I take note of these things.
The Kings are playing the Grizzlies and yet I cannot watch. It is tragically unfair.
Last night I couldn't actually convince myself to go to bed, so I stayed up watching movies on the cable. I don't do this nearly enough. I saw things of interest and I'm going to talk about them.
The Dunwich Horror (1970): I can't believe I've never seen this until now. All these kinds of earthly manifestations of demonic phenomena tales are so very much My Bag. Basically, Sandra Dee gets date-raped by Satan. At least once, maybe twice. That is the whole movie. Although there is all that H.P. Lovecraft "unearthly beings from another dimension" stuff instead of good old-fashioned occult crap, but it's a minor complaint. So Sam Rockwell, I mean Dean Stockwell, is the youngest in a long family line of people with "unusual" "beliefs" and when he sees doughy Sandra Dee clutching a copy of the Necronomicon, he is, dare I say, bewitched! and sets to employing a whole satchelful of warlock trickery in order to win her over so that he can sacrifice her in a ritual to open the gates to ... something, and maybe impregnate her, or get something else to impregnate her, or whatever, I dunno. It's artistic. With his Yorkie moustache, WASP 'fro and fluttery man-scarf, he brings to mind Roddy McDowall in that one episode of "Columbo," only not so butch, and both Sandra Dee and her Bonnie Cashin cape are suitably captivated. The most fantastic thing is that he's whipping out this whole catalog of awesome expressionating, like shifty-eyed dartful glances and pop-eyed stare-takes punctuating his every line of dialogue as if to say Bonggg, I am casting a spell on you, bonggg and it is not to be missed. And I can't even begin to get into all the trippy filter-abuse posterization segments, overlaid images that would made Tim Pope pee on himself, the bitchin' Les Baxter score, the multi-armed Coldmiser monster that looks like a 3D Ikea wall-hanging with teeth, or the part where the purportedly semi-nude Sandra Dee, in the midst of alleged sacrificial ecstasy, is laid out on the altar and you can see the entire armhole of her body stocking, complete with seams. It doesn't match her skintone in the slightest. Also, there are tons of stunt boobs and inappropriate groping. And don't miss the shock surprise ending! I give it a million stars.
Spun (2002): I missed the first couple of minutes, but I could tell after 30 seconds that this movie would be intolerable. Clearly Jonas Akerlund needed to make a full-length revisitation of "Smack My Bitch Up" and "Turn the Page" and then edit it to rip off, I mean pay tribute to, the addiction rush sequences from Requiem for a Dream. There's a reason why those were used sparingly. Oh my God. This is a complete piece of shit. Let me tell you something about America! It's got drugs! And FAT PEOPLE! Fat people who do drugs! And they eat junk food and watch wrestling and shop at — get this — convenience stores. And some guys wear these mullet hairdos and they're CRAZY! Don't they even realize they look stupid? Man, Americans are STUPID! They watch NASCAR and wear aviator glasses like they think they're from the '70s, but it's totally not even the '70s, because in case you haven't noticed, it is 2002 and practically the FUTURE. But don't tell that to these people! They wear, hello, acid-washed jeans? and cowboy boots. Cowboy boots! Have you seen these things? Only hicks wear that stuff! Hey, guess where there are a lot of hicks? AMERICA! Let me tell you something about America. They've got pornographies and strippers and people who watch strippers and GAY PEOPLE! And everyone does drugs and it's dirty and gross and yet extremely sexy, because we Europeans are so ADVANCED in our formulation of aesthetic standards that everything about dirty Americans that is disgusting and gross and that Finger-Pointing-at-YOU should really despise about YOURSELVES is actually the very zenith of hotness to us, because we are SO BEYOND YOU. This movie can shoot itself in the face and bleed to death. I can't believe I watched the entire thing! It made me go back and watch The Dunwich Horror a second time just to clear out the venom. I recommend watching this movie specifically to hate everything about it.
Little Murders (1971): I only saw the last half of this, which is either the stronger or weaker half, depending. Uh. I've seen this maybe three times. It's not the kind of movie you can watch over and over again. I like it as They Just Don't Make 'Em Like This Anymore but I don't think I'll ever get Chris to watch it as he despises Jules Feiffer. The first time I saw this was on a double feature at the Film Forum with, if memory serves, Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? which is a certain sort of bill for a certain sort of person. It was trying. But good. Just don't try to see those both on the same night, that is rough going.
It took me so long to write this that the game ended ages ago and the Kings won. YAY
How sad is it that "Passions" finally gets a real Alistair Crane and he dies. On Thanksgiving even. He's only been on since September! He seemed like a cool dude and I feel :(
I was all ready to finally complain about how the show is now somehow all about people over 50, but I must defer out of respect. I'm not one to cross Alistair Crane.
This show is cursed.
Karaoke on the big money Thursday night? Why yes of course.
Also the other night I found an .avi of the time Shaq took a girly swing at the back of Brad Miller's head. Drop it like it's hot:
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Our supermarket's in the news, check it out: Shooting Victims Dumped at Two Metro Grocery Stores (KSTP.com)
Other than that, I ain't got nuthin'. KINGS GRIZZLIES TONIGHT OOH YEAH
Sup nerds. I've been feeling a little bit too much like this lady on the left to write much in here lately. Let me tell you what is making me insane. Someone from my Former Place of Employment emailed me about doing some work, and since it was for a different department from the one I used to work for, I deliberated then decided, "OK, I will give this a shot." It should not have been such a difficult decision for me to make, but guess what? They find a way to make me regret doing it anyway. And these aren't even the people I expect to suck at all times! I gave them the benefit of the doubt! And they haven't even given me any WORK yet. Let me map this out for you, because I care about clarity and organization.
I saw Shaun of the Dead. It's adorable! The first hour was fantastic. The last half hour, it kind of fell apart and the tone shifted too far to "fighting zombies and fire and guns and explosions and gore" and lost the magic, I thought, but it's still highly recommended. You could tell they were sort of saving up all the gore shots for that one big disgusting part. That was kind of unnecessary. Still, highly recommended! The record collection fight scene, priceless. And Goblin's theme from Zombi is still the best zombie music in the world. Every zombie movie should use it. Zombie zombie zombie.
Also tonight we saw John Cale. He's adorable! I hadn't seen him for ages. Oh! He was great. Also great that he was supporting such a great great album that made the show even greater. There are few things as delightful as watching a 62-year-old man play a Flying V, and play it like he could use it to KILL PEOPLE. Oh! He's just the best. I wish I could remember the crazy time signature he was using for "Leaving It Up to You" because it was hot. He did "Frozen Warnings" and also "Venus in Furs" (!!!) which was not only awesome? But also great. Unfortunately it inspired some of the more learning-disabled people to begin shouting out requests for other VU songs. Yes, I'm sure he'd love to play "Heroin" just for you. At the table next to us were Harold and Kumar, I swear, and they were so happy to hear everything that came off their prized Close Watch: An Introduction to John Cale, so much so that when "Cable Hogue" started up, Harold suddenly contracted autism and began rocking violently back and forth in his chair with total disregard for the laws of rhythm. I'd never see anything like it. And for "Cable Hogue," even.
Afterward we went to Perkins and I had a ham and cheese omelette. The perfect end to the evening. Now I can look forward to people continuing to not get back to me before the weekend. Delicious!
This revelation will only be relevant to three other people on the planet, but it is EARTHSHATTERING: James Hyde was a backup dancer for Dead or Alive (via Dustin's Passions Page). This is the most amazing thing ever. His association with "International Male" makes total perfect sense now.
Oh wait, wait wait wait! WAIT! So I went to see if maybe I could find that picture of him in his "plush lounger," right, and I find out that it even SAYS this on his International Male page. It was RIGHT THERE ALL ALONG. I need to bookmark that site finally for real.
Why this was never revealed to me before, I have no idea. I feel a fog is lifting.
EDIT: Of course it's not a "plush lounger," it's The Fleece Snuggler®. How could I forget?!
Jane said: I think that I need to start watching "The Jury" all the time now, if it always has where it tells you the real story at the end all flashback like.
Yes yes and yes, that is totally what is what gets me with that show.
When they first started showing the commercials for "The Jury," Chris was all, "Hey, we need to watch that," and I was all, "Eew," because despite the Tom Fontana/Barry Levinson pedigree it looked plodding and deadly and I was endlessly disturbed by the presence of model-turned-actress Shalom Harlow.
So we watched the show and I was like, "This is plodding and deadly," because you don't really get to know the so-called "regular" characters, who are whichever staff happen to be involved in the case. Excepting the clumsy "Getting to know the staff" interludes which are about as appealing as the current Burger King ad campaign, and I hate that Burger King ad campaign. Aside from that, the first fully-formed opinion I had about it was that I really really really hated that pseudo-hipster pseudo-nerd bailiff, and that's gotten exponentially worse with each episode. I truly actively hate him and want someone to run through the courthouse with a gun and kill him in the face.
Now, even with all my sitting around and rolling my eyes about it, I have discovered that I am a little obsessed with the show. It's totally the competitive "Who'll get it right?" element of the storytelling, with the actual crime revealed at the end. It's even worse than "CSI," because "CSI" is engineered to swerve you — when I watch it I'm just trying to foresee all the swerves. Same with "Without a Trace," a.k.a. "The Enrique Murciano Finds Lost People Hour." But on "The Jury," the outcome — "the truth" rather than "the decision," I guess — could totally be obvious and straightforward, but because the attorneys and the jurors are throwing out all these crazy insane possibilities that could all totally be taken seriously, you could just as easily be swayed from what you think in your gut is right. And you really don't want to guess wrong in what's basically a 50-50 shot at being right. Right? It's ingenious.
They're on the verge of getting canned if this report is any indication, so maybe they should kill off the bailiff and hire more "Oz" people to give it a shot in the butt. Jon Seda was looking good, man, who knew?
So! We went to Best Buy last week because they were selling the SCTV box for about $5 less than I paid for it on Amazon, and wouldn't you know it as soon as I had it in my hands, Amazon wouldn't let me cancel the order? Meanwhile it's like, going to be probably two weeks after it was released before it actually gets here. Amazon, I hate. And I thought I was getting such a good deal from them too. Boo!
Anyway, the SCTV box is pretty awesome and makes it worth the hassle. I've already watched ... all of it, except the reunion special on disc 5 and the commentary version of "Polynesiantown." I've watched parts over and over and over again, because I can never get enough of "The Merv Griffith Show," my hero Lola Heatherton or Eugene Levy's uncanny Gino Vannelli impersonation, which makes me die every time I see it.
I also got The Day of the Locust (in 5.1 SURROUND!) which I also already watched and uh ... what else? Oh yeah, Trainspotting with the second disc of extras, most of which have been really boring so far. Like I really needed to know what Martin Landau had to say about it at Cannes. I miss the big TV in the living room, I feel like I have to squint to see anything.
Christopher got both sets of "The Office" and then The Day After, which we watched last night. It wasn't half as cheesy as I was expecting. I didn't see it when it first broadcast because I think I was being a Nuclear Holocaust TV Movie Snob and I only saw that British one on PBS, I think it was called Threads? And it SUCKED, because like, remember how the girl who was born after everything blew up grew up and had a baby herself to symbolize, like, the bleak horror implicit in the perpetuation of a post-nuclear species or whatever because everything was still all blown up and everything? And how she was having her baby and screaming and you could see her FILLINGS? Post-apocalyptic dental technology, hello, I don't think so. So that totally ruined it for me. I also remember it being boring. And then Testament for American Playhouse with Jane Alexander and William Devane and Lucas Haas and Roxana Zal and man, that thing will mess you up and it still creeps me out today. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, anyway, I didn't see The Day After until last night, and it was better than I was expecting, although the stock footage was cracking me up. Testament, that is one of the most depressing things ever made. I love it.
They were bound to get it up there sooner or later. Oh yes. The "Passions" pirate adventure photo gallery is now online so that I may preserve Luis' fantastic hair accessorization for all eternity.
Why is your forehead so tight and shiny, m'lady?
Picture #12 is what I would call an "interesting choice." I taped yesterday's episode and watched today's, thinking accurately that there would be no real plot advancement from Wednesday that I'd be missing, and while I can do without Zombie Pirates, I really need an explanation as to why Antonio and Hank took their shirts off. Yes, they rope me in yet again. "Only my body warmth can save you," oh Sheridan, that old trick. What, is this turning into a "Passions" blog now? Ack.
I started writing this as a response in the comments here and then realized it was getting so involved I might as well use it as an entry.
Jane is very wise: At least the "Now I'm the surrogate!" storyline was pretty cool in its sickness. This new one is just retarded. "I will trade my child for my child!" Genius. I hate.
Hmm yes, this is true that the hospital assault and surrogate switcheroo was a nice step away from the garden variety retardness "Passions" has been giving us lately. I did not think of that because I am so quick to bring the hate. It is that I fear for the sanity of Our Great Nation that anyone should think Theresa is justified in doing any of this. I must admit if Sami was doing this on "Days" for whatever reason I'd be like, "Ooh, I approve of these actions." Such is her power. Theresa, not that powerful.
I wonder if Paloma has the potential to be all that Theresa cannot be. She's spiteful yet oh so wounded. I like her so far. The Martin/Katherine stuff is making me want to kill myself. How many years have they been exiled in Mexico and now, for the first time, Martin picks up the phone when Pilar calls? Ack ack ack. Nice fake nose in the flashbacks too, buddy, your disguise is impenetrable.
Oh and plus all of a sudden Charity's deal with Death is wiped off the books because Father Lonigan~ was all "That can't happen. P.S. I'm a priest." ???!!??!!!??!?! I guess the idea that a priest can encourage people to challenge death is supposed to be a big inspirational powerful message or whatever, but dude, it was DEATH!!!! I wouldn't want to front on Death, I'd be like, "Whatever you say, man." Oh my God, this show. Yet I can't stop watching it.
My poor suffering husband: Did Gwen even ever figure out that WASN'T a REAL job interview? Or did she just blow off the next days' flight to go have dinner with Sam and Ivy? JESUS GOD HOW DO I KNOW ALL THIS CRAP
::my head explodes::
I still wish that instead of making it Doped-Up Hooker Eve who was driving the dreaded TC accident car, they used my idea of it being TC's Ghost Dad, who then died not from a broken heart but from guilt and therefore turns out to be a big crazy liar from beyond the grave. Or better yet, it should have been Doped-Up Hooker Eve "servicing" TC's Ghost Dad in the dreaded TC accident car. They should give me my own soap, I obviously have all the right ideas.
It's on now. Ooh, there's Hank! I gotta go.
No wonder "Passions" just keeps getting more and more retarded.
I like the implication that this is somehow worse than Theresa assaulting Gwen and Ethan's surrogate and getting implanted with the embryos in the first place. I mean honestly. I do have to admit I'm surprised that the poll isn't like 87% "No," because that's how messed up the results usually are. Ugh, Theresa.
If NBC should be polling people about anything, it should be Antonio's haircut. Dame. That is bad news, even on him.
P.S., Did you have a little freakout when Hank showed up on the dock? That was exciting. I was afraid he was gone forever. Although now I wish he was in the stupendously awful pirate past-life flashback, which I of course love and adore like an insane person. Maybe he can be a parrot on Luis' shoulder. Squawk buddy squawk
Yeah, I totally wanted to see that pot of sauce get dumped on people too, but now we'll ALL have to wait, because NBC yanked "The Restaurant" all of a sudden!!! with like NO warning!!! out of sweeps in favor of the ratings bonanza that is a rerun of "Crossing Jordan." These people, whoever they are, say Rocco's going to totally start over from the beginning on ... June 9? And then maybe they won't do this again and we'll get see the rest of the season? But I want to see sauce get dumped on people NOW. What?
I also totally missed "Helter Skelter" last night. Dame.
Who knew TV Tome had such good information and/or bad news? This is about "Passions," of course.
As of 31 May 2004, Jack Krizmanich will be going from contract to recurring status. This is hardly surprising, since his on-screen father and 'mother' were bumped to recurring last December, and the character of John Hastings is seldom seen. He is the third actor to be removed from contract before it was up in the last six months (Dana Sparks and Justin Carroll were both dropped from contract to recurring status in early December, and when Ryan McPartlin's contract was up in April the show chose not to renew it).
Jesse Metcalfe (Miguel) and Molly Stanton (Charity) will both be departing PSSN in late spring, early summer. Metcalfe chose not to renew his contract (which was up in late June, early July), and Stanton opted to leave.
OK, John is completely useless, so who cares? I do, because he's still going to be showing up and sucking while Hank, Miguel and Charity will be gone. GONE!!! Ugh, this show. This may be the last straw.
WARNING: If you click on that link up there, you will get big fat spoilers on what happens to Miguel and Charity (which makes no sense) and who the "Mystery Man" and "Mystery Woman" really are (which almost makes almost as little sense, almost). At this point, who knows if any of us will be watching anyway? So it's not like it matters or anything. (I'll be watching. Of course. I'm a sucker.)
Also, TV Tome tells me that Hank is doing a pilot for the WB where he plays Fran Drescher's boyfriend. It's produced by Jamie Kennedy. I wish I was making this up.
I know you hate "The Restaurant" because it is unwatchable and everyone on it is the most despicable human being ever to be seen on television. Yes, this is all entirely true! But this season, with the whole point being that Rocco is a horrible person who has no business running a restaurant, is sublime and a sheer pleasure to watch. Even creepy intern Drew got his comeuppance, but only after getting the fantastic zinger in on Rocco before he left. (This line serves as this entry's title, in case you didn't watch. And I know you probably didn't watch.) If I was going to get fired working for Rocco, I'd get fired for calling him a douchebag too. Yes, all the people are still hateful disgusting excuses for human beings and that new bartender is a vile (male!!!) plastic surgery disaster. But at least, aside from being so populated with horrific assbutts that it can only be watched from behind a large pillow with a large cushion of alcohol, "The Restaurant" now operates on the realization that Rocco is a gigantic incompetent pig. And yet he's still a creative consultant on this show!!! That dude is a mess. I hope Dr. Marlena Evans kills him on Wednesday on "Days of Our Lives."
A while ago we bought these simple syrups at Williams-Sonoma, and they rule. Actually I bought them while my husband protested violently. One is flavored with Meyer lemon, the other with vanilla bean, so there are little flecks of vanilla bean all suspended up in it. I figured that I could make some awesome cocktails with them, and today I proved myself right.
First I made a variation Cosmopolitan that was just plain vodka (Skyy), Cointreau, cranberry juice and the Meyer lemon syrup. It ruled. But I used the last of our cranberry juice. Then I made up something that is vanilla vodka (Absolut ... it tastes like marshmallows!!!), orange juice, Cointreau and the vanilla bean syrup. I am now on my second one. This drink rules. I'm telling you, it is unreal. I'm a genius.
I almost don't care about the game today, but I do. The whole reason I started drinking already today was the game, because I was freaking out and throwing newspapers over my head and Christopher said, "You need to be drunk." So I followed his instructions, that's all. The game was bad, though. It was really bad. So I just hope that the Kings were concentrating all their suck into this game and will go crazy insane fantastic for the next two. Yes.
You know how much I hate the Lakers? I hate the Mavericks almost as much. These are my ... my two most hated teams in the universe. I hate them. Steve Nash looks like a frigging serial rapist lizard man. Words can't describe how much I hate him. And Nowitski, eew, forget about it, he is a creepy stalker. Which is only solidified by his "Trophy Love" commercial, am I right people? Yes. The people know. And that frigging thug Najara. Eew girl, eew. I hate that f-er.
While we are on the subject of, um, dudes, it's all over between me and Bobby Flay, just so you know. The reason is here.
Jose Giovanni passed away today of a brain hemorrhage at 80. The only reason I know about him is because he wrote the screenplay for Le Trou, which translates to The Hole. Yes, the entire movie is about digging a hole. I'm not even exaggerating. I think ... Jacques Tourneau directed it? I think that's who it was. (EDIT: Jacques Becker. It was Jacques Becker.) I saw that bitch up in Lincoln Center, on a double bill with John Huston's We Were Strangers, I think, which is the movie that made me fall in love with dead John Garfield. Or maybe that was on a double bill with He Ran All the Way, which also made me fall in love with dead John Garfield. Oh man, I can't remember. I swear I associate We Were Strangers with Le Trou. But I also associate We Were Strangers with He Ran All the Way. It was so long ago. I don't know what to believe anymore. I'll get to the bottom of this eventually. In the meantime, how about a gratuitous image of John Garfield
in his final movie, He Ran All the Way, with Shelley Winters
and, um ... let's go with The Man, Vlade Divac
stop killing me
"Passions" finally has a Paloma Lopez-Fitzgerald. My God, I thought it would never happen. I hope the first thing she does is stab her sister to death in the face and neck area via many stabbing motions about the face and neck area with a large, sharp object.
While the Elleffs were getting ready to move out of the house today, I enjoyed Pilar's line about how they would never have enough time to pack up all their memories, m'hija. When did everyone on this show turn completely retarded? They've had that house, what, about all of two months in "Passions" time because their last house and everything they owned was lost in a fiery inferno? And during that time in the new house, did anything good happen to any of them, ever? Oh man. I've got to finally give up on this show, it's too much for me to take.
It's not that there's been a lot going on, it's just that there were things to do and that somehow magically took me away from the computer.
On Friday or perhaps Saturday, we saw Starsky and Hutch. Oh! What a delightful cinematic romp. I have to say that if I were to make the inevitable comparison to Zoolander, I thought that Zoolander had more moments that were insanely hilariously awesome beyond belief, but Starsky and Hutch was the more consistently enjoyable cinema experience. I skip through big chunks of Zoolander a lot. I mean a LOT. Starsky and Hutch clearly succeeds because when you include more scenes that involve Owen Wilson, or when the scenes that don't involve Owen Wilson usually have something to do with characters thinking about Owen Wilson, you will be well taken care of. And then there's also Snoop and Juliette Lewis, who themselves should make movies together. I also acknowledge that it was a great sacrifice for Christopher to go with me as he has something of an anti-Stiller gene. But he seemed to like it, or at least like that I liked it so much. And honestly, isn't that what's important? He still refuses to watch Zoolander, though.
Sunday was WRESTLEMANIA XX WHERE IT ALL BEGINS ... AGAIN. This was a good time although I drank too many of my double dirrty martinis and proceeded to pass out during the main event. I caught it on the encore but oops, I kind of missed out on experiencing the magic with the rest of the world. But I was tired and the booze was so so good, so I feel I made the right choice. Then I sobered up enough to win an auction for a copy of Pamela Moore's Chocolates for Breakfast for the opening bid of a single solitary pound (plus £2.49 shipping). I'm so excited for it, I can't even explain.
Monday, something probably happened that I can't remember. I put some more stuff on the iPod, most notably my Steely Dan, Bobby Darin and Velvet Underground box sets. We're taking a trip later this week that will involve some driving so I'll be playing mixmaster. Also everyone is up Franz Ferdinand's butt now, when did that happen? Oh! And I took a Design Within Reach survey and they sent me a $25 discount promotional code, which is hot! Although I can't exactly afford to buy anything from there.
Tonight was "American Idol" and I am at a loss for much to say about it. My girl is going to get CANNED on her ASS. Which is fine because now I am certain that it's not that she's interestingly weird and fascinating, she's just plain horrible. I know you knew that all along, but I thought I saw something there for a sec. Everyone was so boring. Boring boring boring. And like they're singing at a pep rally or some crap. I don't share these kids' school spirit. I thought George was OK though, like watchable and enjoyable or whatever and much better without the moustache. I can't muster up anything to say about anyone else. Boring.
What else is boring, and yet ... not boring? Zero 7. I am now firmly into the Zero 7. It's enjoyable faceless chillout music that is easy on the ears of old ladies such as myself. They do Air better than Air have been doing themselves. Who told them it was a good idea to sing all their own songs? I mean really.
iTunes has Bob's Bootleg Series Vol. 6 available two weeks early, but I can't justify getting it if it's not actual physical merchandise. Plus he's going to look so cute in that booklet, you know it.
You know, it's really difficult for me to think of anything that is more awesome than this right now.
Television's Dr. Phil McGraw meets his match — Dr. Feel — a new Sesame Street Muppet who will be making his national debut during a segment on the syndicated talk show on Friday, February 20. (AP Photo)
Today was a busy work day, by which I mean I spent most of it importing more stuff for the iPod. Like a LOT. Like:
Bob Dylan remastered: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Another Side of Bob Dylan, Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde on Blonde, John Wesley Harding, Nashville Skyline, Planet Waves, Blood on the Tracks, Desire, Street-Legal, Slow Train Coming, Infidels, Oh Mercy, "Love and Theft"; plus Time Out of Mind, Live 1966, Live 1975 (not remastered)
The Soundtrack of Our Lives: Welcome to the Infant Freebase, Extended Revelation for the Psychic Weaklings of the Western Civilization, Behind the Music, Future Excerpts
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (remastered): Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Organisation, Architecture & Morality
Duran Duran: Singles 81-85 box set (13 CDs)
At least it helped the day go by faster. Like a LOT.
Jane tells me that WE just showed The Swinger. My God, how could I have missed this. WE, the same geniuses who dug up Moment by Moment which made me have a freakout of glorious proportions. I really need to start paying more attention to them ... start paying attention to The Space We Share.
I just saw a "Passions" commercial that said MURDER and showed Gwen pushing Theresa through a window. Oh if only, if only.
Andy "this is Andy Paige for Cents of Style" Paige is back on "Starting Over" today and I'm so so happy. She's like the best ever. She is wearing a ludicrous zebra-striped coat and yet she still looks adorable. Oh! Did you know she even has a Web site. Oh man, she just said "Super, I love that," which was what I was about to say. Genius. Jane and I should get her to be on our fabulous TV show about gossip and sparkles and dancing. You know, the show we have created in our minds.
I did a work day yesterday, I'm doing a work day today and I'm working the rest of the week. Money is super, I love that. It's been really slow. Yesterday I stayed up all night before working (I have to start at 6 a.m.) and after I signed off I completely conked out. The weather, it was going crazy. Like the cable provider broke into "Passions" (which I still hate right now) with one of their crazy Emergency Broadcast System EEEEEH EEEEEH EEEEEH alerts for a Severe Thunderstorm Warning. I thought they usually saved those for Amber Alerts at 3 a.m. in order to scare the crap out of me.
Oh my God. They just showed the "surprise leaks and odor" commercial for the product that offers "confident stand-up protection." What. If the FCC wants to do something about decency on TV, start with the disgusting feminine protection and perverted diaper ads already. I can't stand it. And then the one we kept seeing during The Perfect Husband with the graphic depiction of a kid wetting his bed and it's supposed to be CUTE. Sick sick sick sick.
Anyway! Right before I went to sleep, there was a local news special report where the weather guy started freaking out about "significant weather!!!" and then he just cut off and there was dead air and I found it hilarious. There was some wind and some rain and the skies were overcast, what? That is one thing I can't get used to, is how out here rain is like a crazy foreign concept and if it sprinkles a little bit people start like driving off the road if they've even left the house at all in the first place. Well I'm exaggerating. A little. But it is very surprising. This is the first time in my life I've lived without X-treme weather. Am I getting offtrack again? Yes.
So anyway, I totally pass out and get woken up by Christopher coming home, informing me that the power is out. Not just out but OUT, like gone. Like our entire complex is pitch black and interestingly enough, it's the only one in the neighborhood that's out. So maybe it was the storm? Maybe it wasn't? I have no idea. But luckily Christopher had some kind of psychic power because he brought home a pizza (our stove is electric) and also a gigantic family-size vat of Beefeater gin. So it wasn't so bad. Except the power never came back on until Conan started, so we missed both "American Idol" and "24," which is an unfair tragedy of epic proportions. But I'm trying my best to live through the pain, I am.
Modern developments I have trouble comprehending:
311 and their cover of "Love Song." What, are they Dashboard Confessional now? Or was Dashboard Confessional perhaps unavailable to record this in the first place? And where's that guy who goes YingiddyBingiddyGingiddyDingiddy through half their songs? Is he just on the remix? I'm confused.
Kanye West's choruses of magic helium-sucking midgets. Or maybe they're chipmunks? They're chipmunks, right? Pixies? Sprites? Dwarves? I don't know, but I just don't want to hear any more of them, I really don't.
"Passions" and its magic reset buttons and mind-erasing tools. OK, in the course of one episode, Whitney is MAGICALLY back together with Chad and his bad Eric Benét makeover and all is forgiven? Fox is no longer think-talking every other second about how much he loves Whitney (who is not only the Woman He Loves but also the Woman of His Dreams and His Secret True Love) because he's now madly in love with Theresa? Theresa has somehow developed an anti-Ethan gene after YEARS of careful audience hypnosis to the contrary? Oh, you can't be serious. Gwen almost gets killed by Beth after almost getting killed by Beth during a maelstrom of suspicion about Beth and the Evil Beth Has Most Likely Probably Possibly Done, and yet she suspects that this time it was ... Theresa. Oh good, let's go down that road again while we "take it to the next level" of improbability as to how Luis and Sheridan are going to be separated ... FOREVER. Oh for butt's sake. Next they'll send Kay and her baby on safari in Kenya so Charity and Miguel can get back together and Reese will end up getting it on with, I don't know, how about Hank. Actually, that last one just might work. Butt please, I got bored of Sheridan in the mental hospital and I get bored whenever Sheridan and Luis are doing it, but when Sheridan and Luis were doing it in the mental hospital, that was pure television gold and a shining example of how to put on a show. Now I am thisclose to no longer caring because they've suddenly put on the brakes and switched gears to a) stale old plots and b) new plots that make no sense WITHOUT RESOLVING ANYTHING AT ALL. If they're gonna drag old stuff back out again, why not have a portal to Hell open up someplace, that's always a good time.
Linds@y Loh@n, who is apparently Fr@nkie Muniz in drag.
Commercials for diapers that will hug my baby's sexy, sexy curves and dynamite ass. I give up.
Ortho-Evra commercials, translated: Hi, I'm a giant whore who loves to get boned, and I'm so stupid that I can't even remember to perform simple daily tasks. But I won't get pregnant if you do me! Let me yank down my underwear and show you why!
So we were watching CMC (the California Music Channel) today and this dude Beebo was sitting in for Chuy Gomez. At least I think his name was Beebo? Anyway, I had never seen him before and he was highly entertaining. He was doing the Miss Congeniality "You think I'm gooooorgeous" song except it was all like "My name is Beeeeebo" and then at the end he started singing Beyoncé's "Work It Out," and he was all "Don't touch that remote, I see you creepin'" and his Classic Clip was the Cover Girls' "Show Me," oh man. They're wearing BODY GLOVE! I remembered the dance and everything.
I was checking the CMC site and it said they were looking for new VJs, ooh! I would be good for you, CMC. But I don't think I'm capable of mustering up enthusiasm about, like, Fefe Dobson or anything. I already quit that job.
I have promised both myself and my husband that I will not get involved in this season of "American Idol." I will maintain an emotional distance. It is not easy to do, I'll tell you what. I've got weaknesses when it comes to this show. It's almost as if Lent has come early. But eew, what about this Katie Bad Nose Job, eh? She creeps me out. And she goes to SJSU too (though apparently she's not there for its fine MLS program). Also, Fantasia is a fabulous, fabulous name.
I'm so excited for The Perfect Husband (this Friday at 8 on USA). Is that horrible? It's probably horrible. But ever since I saw the pictures of Dean Cain in the Enquirer I was so excited for this stupid thing. Oh man, remember how last month the tiers got switched around on our cable system and I had to go without the Lifetime Movie Network for a day? That was not a cute fun time. You know I have to watch Helter Skelter every time it airs. It really is a compelling presentation of women and their problems.
David Herman has just joined the cast of "24" so I had a bit of a freakout tonight. I guess with "Futurama" off the air he has to do something. Lothaire Bluteau is on now too! At least I'm pretty sure it's him, I didn't notice his name in the credits. But yeah, there can't possibly be too many Lothaire Bluteau lookalikes running around on TV. It was like a banner episode.
I still feel like crap, by the way. Just thought I'd add that for the record.
"Monk," have you seen it? It blows. Some people at Christopher's message board somehow got it in their heads that "Monk" would be like the show of his dreams or something and that he should watch it, and now look what's happened, we've watched it for two weeks in a row and it stinks. For the record, he can take it or leave it, but it gives me like some horrible TV virus.
First of all, who wants to watch Tony Shalhoub for an hour? I know some people do, but woof. Of course, I would gladly watch a show that is based entirely around Enrique Murciano smirking and threatening people for an hour, but what do I know? Pretty good television, obviously.
It's like ... the Monk character is written so BIG AND HAMFISTED but he downplays it all tiny and that's supposed to equivocate the APEX OF DEFT COMEDIC GENIUS! when really it's like, he's just being Andy Kaufman on "Taxi" without the accent. This show is so precious and cute and in love with itself that it puts me on the rag. HIS NAME IS MONK! BUT HE'S NOT A MONK! IT'S CRAZY! Also, it looks like crap, like it's shot at a domed community for the elderly someplace in Saskatchewan. Did I happen to mention I hate this show?
And P.S., how did they get Randy Newman to contribute a theme song anyway. "Dude WTF," you are probably saying, "how can you derogate Tony Shalhoub and praise Randy Newman?" Oho, some mysteries cannot be explained. The one good thing that came out of this is that Christopher and I now take turns coming up with our own "Randy Newman's Theme From Monk," such as
Let me tell ya 'bout a guy named Monk
He's on a show called "Monk"
'Bout a guy named Monk, yup
He's solvin' crimes an' washin' his hands a lot
We gonna watch it right now
Hey there! We gonna
We gonna watch it right now
Oh man, I love me some Randy Newman. Why can't he do a theme for a decent show? Like if he did one for "Without a Trace," that would be outstanding.
People
They go missin'
And then there's people
Who find the people goin' missin'
Ooh, I'll have to keep working on that one.
WTF, both Tom Green and Scott Stapp on "Celebrity Poker Showdown"? This is like some kind of horrible nightmare. I'm sensing David Cross could make a whole HBO special out of this experience alone. Compared to his last one it might even be FUNNY, haw haw.
OH MY GOD. OH MY DEAR LORD. WHO IS IT BUTCHERING DAVID GATES' "GOODBYE GIRL" AS RECORDED FOR THE TELEVISED CINEMATIC BUTCHERING OF "GOODBYE GIRL" FOR THE 2K4 ON TNT. My husband wagers it is Hootie and the Blowfish. I did not want to believe it was Hootie and the Blowfish but you know what, he is correct. It is HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH. Butchering DAVID GATES. I AM OUTRAGED.
