Tag Archives: Hollywood

I Am An Oscar Whore

I Am An Oscar Whore

You see, I am a whore for the Oscars. I am. And, yes, I feel a level of shame in this fact. I’m not necessarily a beautiful, shorn, singing, consumptive whore like Anne Hathaway in Les Miserables. But a whore none the less.

image2

Wow, my life sucks.

I know, it’s all fixed, political, not about art, blah blah blah. I get that but, not unlike Lucha Libre and my body fat percentage, I choose to ignore the truth.

Chicken man is totally going to take down Skeleton guy.

Chicken man is totally going to take down Skeleton guy.

I won’t claim to be above loving all the pretty stars, their designer gowns or all the pomp and circumstance. I do love me a red carpet.

But beyond that, it’s one of the rare times that the dirty, crazed, slovenly writers finally get a little love and attention.

Ever since Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, a couple of unknown upstarts, won for Best Original Screenplay for Good Will Hunting, I’ve gotten very choked up when the writers have their moment.

A really smart screenplay with awesome dialog makes me weep. So, either I’m hormonally unbalanced or there aren’t nearly enough good screenplays. My suspicion is it’s both.

As for the actual viewing of the awards ceremony, I’m an Oscar Nazi. I’m not necessarily a steely-eyed, milk-drinking, psychopath like Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds (yes, that’s spelled right). But a Nazi none the less.

Now, vat did vee say about noise? You disappoint me.

Now, vat did vee say about noise? You disappoint me.

I will abide NO chatting, visiting, commenting or mumbling during the actual show. Any Chatty Cathy’s will be throat punched. And, I don’t give a shit if it’s during the best Lithuanian Foley Artist acceptance speech. This is a fucking huge night for Jurgi and by God, let the man have his moment in the sun!

I haven’t seen everything yet but plan on it before the Big Show. In the meantime, here are some of my impressions thus far.

And, don’t worry, I WILL NEVER BE A SPOILER! If I lack integrity everywhere else in my life, I solidly maintain it in this one thing.

Les Miserables  If Anne Hathaway doesn’t reduce you to a quivering jellyfish of tears, you sir, are made of stone and I wash my hands of you! However, a word of warning – they actually SING everything in this movie. Just be prepared. And, if you are even partially  human, bring a gross ton of tissue to sop up your eye juice because you will be dehydrated by the time this thing is done.

I will ask though, what the hell were they thinking with Russell Crow? He was clearly as uncomfortable in that movie as a nun with an STD.

Argo  A friend of mine put it perfectly – “It’s like Jaws without sharks.” It’s true, the tension is stroke-inducing before the opening credits have even begun.

Wonderful to see Ben Affleck getting his shit together post Gigli. It was an awesome movie – loved it!

While it did get a best picture nod, I’m annoyed Ben was passed up for Best Director. But, again, I will turn a blind eye to this slight and be dazzled by whatever Halle Berry is wearing.

Silver Lining Playbook   Great movie. Finally seeing Robert De Niro act again instead of phoning in crap like Meet The Fockers was refreshing. He plays OCD lunatic with a heart like no one ever could.

He’s married to a perfectly quivery and uncomfortable Jacki Weaver.

Bradley Cooper is awesome but looks like he smells like wet feet.

And Katniss Everdeen is even more sulky than during the reaping.

Lincoln  Oh, Danny Day, what planet are you from? The planet of insanely good actors who are probably impossible to deal with in real life? Mr. Method nails everything he does but can you imagine being married to him and asking Mr. Lincoln to take the garbage out or burn a damned match in here when you’re done?

I bet a dead Civil War-era president can really stink up a bathroom.

Life of Pi  Light up a spliff and see this thing with a gallon of popcorn. It’s the prettiest damned movie I’ve seen. And, if you see it in 3-D I think you may see God.

Beasts of the Southern Wild   The little girl in this movie, Quvenzhané Wallis, cannot be for real.  She acted the crap out of everyone on the Best Actress list. And she’s like 5!! And this is her first real movie role!

My kids are double that age and can barely function like a human so I choose to believe she is a 30-year-old midget and my parenting skills go unchallenged.

So, to wrap this thing up, I am a hormonal Nazi whore who has a fondness for good writing. Sounds like the start of a fantastic screenplay!

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

imageI know there are easily a gazillion best-of lists out there so I totally forgive you if you are getting to the point where you can’t take one more. But, as you know, your comfort has never been my paramount concern so…..and, I’m just a huge, lazy ass.

One of my favorite things from 2012 was the realization that there are a million exceptionally non-famous funny people in the world. Many of these lunatics are just as funny as the most famous comedians out there. It’s really the number one thing that keeps me somewhat hopeful for our species.

So, without further ado, I present some things that made me happy this year.

Noo Yorque Times Top 5 Left of Plumb Posts (because I am learning about shameless self-promotion)

Hobo With An Attitude

Scenes From a Coffice

Dear God; RE: Anne Hathaway

I Was Plucked By The Original Jersey Girl

Glitterati In The Mist

My Favorite Pop Culture Travesties

50 Shades of Gray – The revelation that middle-aged women are horny nymphomaniacs changed the way I look at all middle-aged women.

Magic Mike – See above entry….forgive the pun.

Liz and Dick – In the ongoing train wreck that is La Lohan, we got to watch her barreling toward the brick wall for a full 2 hours.

Hulk Hogan – Ish. I never did get around to doing a post about this one….I think I’m still throwing up in my mouth when I think of it.

Hunger Games – Hatefully addictive. My personal skeleton in my closet of shame.

My Online Humor Discoveries

KidFreeLiving – Amy VanSant is so freakin’ funny it completely pisses me off!

TheBloggess – Has anyone on the planet NOT read and fallen in love with Jenny Lawson? She is the sassy matriarch of blogging!

Bad Lip Reading – I weep uncontrollably with laughter at every one of these and check the site like a rabid stalker to see what new videos they have posted.

Twitter, in general

I really really really really hate to admit this but have been exceptionally entertained by Twitter. Before this year, I looked upon it with scorn and malice as a place for whiney, needy people to talk about the consistency of their morning constitutions. I now see that, if you follow the right people, it is HILARIOUS.

My Favorite Tweeters (though the list could be pages long….)

God @tweetofgod

Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬

Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬

Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill

Best Political Tweets

What a sad day for legitimate and illegitimate rapists. ~Matt Roller ‏‪@rolldiggity‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If you have never had the misfortune to be raped, fight the urge to put on a suit and talk expansively about its’ meaning. ~Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬

Enjoy your gay marryjuana, Seattle! ~God @tweetofgod

IT IS NO LONGER A PROJECTION. IT IS OFFICIAL: I’m kind of a fan of Sea Breeze cocktails! ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Has Michelle won First Lady yet? ‘Cause if SHE loses…. Awkward. ~ Dana Gould @DanaJGould

Why is the same show on EVERY CHANNEL? ~ Mike Birbiglia ‏‪@birbigs‬

THE RESULTS ARE IN IN OHIO: my step-cousin Jaden is OFFICIALLY the new day-shift manager of the Hardee’s on Coleman Road. ~ Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Sleep tight, America, and know that – no matter who you voted for – tomorrow we will wake up united in our hatred of wobbly tables. ~ The Bloggess @thebloggess

There are more of these, that I love, here: My Election Hangover

Tweets That Made Me Wet Myself

Who wants to see my wiener? Shit. How do I delete on this thing? ~ Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill‬‬

Jedediah leaned upon his rake and said to Isaac, “Thy wife makes a goodly pie.” “I thank thee,” said Isaac. “Most humbly.” ‪#AmishErotica‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ ~ Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

I just tripped, fell and then farted while walking up an escalator and now I have the ability to move objects with my mind. ~ Jerm Himselfish ‏‪@JermHimselfish‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I had a dollar for every time my dad questioned my sexuality I could afford a bad ass Harley and probably some super cute riding boots. ~ Jeffrey Hadz ‏‪@Hadzilla‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The thesaurus on Microsoft Word is not very… how do I put this… “good” ~ B.J. Novak ‏‪@bjnovak‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Are humans the only mammals that blow each other? I’m asking for a friend. ~Dana Gould ‏‪@DanaJGould‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

HOLY SHIT. Is there a sign on my office door that says ‘C’mon in and fart the place up?’ ~Evan ‏‪@evanrhorne‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Whenever someone invites me to go golfing I always think, “Wow, this person knows absolutely nothing about me.” ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The downside of having a bad memory is occasionally forgetting and then remembering the existence of Mr. Holland’s Opus. ~Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

“Maybe we can sell more clams if we put them in a liquid that looks like vomit?” – Inventor of clam chowder. ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Realized I was still chewing a piece of bacon as I sat on the toilet, hence discovering the elusive EIGHTH Habit of Highly Effective People. ~Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Got my wig caught in my braces again. ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I’m ever on life support unplug me,, and then plug me back in again,, and see if that works… ~Gordon McCleary ‏‪@ASouthernYankee‬‬‬‬‬‬

Our son HATES the rectal thermometer. Ugh, teenagers! ~rob delaney ‏‪@robdelaney‬‬‬‬‬

The worst part about being omniscient is that I can never not know what Newt Gingrich looks like naked. ~God ‏‪@TheTweetOfGod‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

In closing, if I can continue to find even more to laugh about in 2013, I think I just may survive! And, here are some pictures to leave you with that just simply made me smile cuz’ they are kinda weird.

dancing sheep

Look at me! I’m one sassy ewe, girlfriend!

You do know I'll kill you in your sleep for doing this to me....right after I eat these Cheetos.

You do know I’ll kill you in your sleep….right after I eat these here Cheetos.

I’ve gotta feeling…..that tonight’s gonna be a good night…..

 

Menorah Shmenorah, Bring Me My Gifts!

Menorah Shmenorah, Bring Me My Gifts!

Well, it’s that magical time of year again when we celebrate the lighting of the menorah so that baby Jesus could see the three wise men air their grievances and perform feats of strength.

Or something like that.

More importantly, it’s when you get to list out all the things you want without looking like a selfish, small-minded bitch. Yay!

I have my standard items that I tend to repeat each year but to no avail. Clearly Santa or the Maccabees or Shiva or whoever the hell should be bringing me shit is sitting around on their fat asses.

See, not unlike my approach to religion, I will follow any tradition to cover all bases on whomever it is who will actually give me presents. I am the whore of holidays.

It’s not like I want anything that outrageous either. Just the regular stuff like:

Balanced hormones.

Paul Rudd.

Awesome ‘stach, Broham.

A margarita party with Amy Poehler, Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Tina Fey, Maya Rudolph and Leslie Mann where they all have to fight each other to be chosen as my best friend.

A leather jacket.

A pet meerkat. No, a whole family of pet meerkats. Who can talk. And are gay and sassy. And can sing but not in an annoying way like The Chipmunks.

Are you kidding me???? Freaking AWESOME!

If all you Santa-like deities are really too lame to supply me with this totally rational list of wants and needs, then I will make due with only one item.

And that item is a butler.

I’ll admit, I am after a pretty hybrid kind of servant here. But, if you can’t customize, what the hell good are you.

I want the intelligent, snarky, grandfatherly wisdom of John Gielgud as Hobson in Arthur.

I find you repugnant and yet I serve you.

And, he’s had LOADS of experience dealing with super drunk people so a big plus for him…and me.

Mix him with the gay drama and fashion sense of Hank Azaria as Agador Spartacus from The Birdcage.

The mix of taffeta and corduroy upsets me.

And,  he shall be referred to as Hobacus and we will live happily ever after.

If my butler request is really too much for you to handle, I’ll settle for Paul Rudd and the meerkats. See, I’m not unreasonable.

As you ponder your own Hanukkah, Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanza or Festivus list, I leave you with this vision of MY holiday deity for your viewing pleasure.

Cornelius X. Spacklestein:
The Non-denominational Holiday Meerkat

 

The Lohan Paradox – Our Cultural Dust Bowl

The Lohan Paradox – Our Cultural Dust Bowl
Tina Fey and Lindsay Lohan 2012

It’s not looking good Linds. Not. Looking. Good.

This past Sunday I watched The Dust Bowl by Ken Burns on PBS because that’s the kind of high-falutin’ broad I am.

I’ve always been intrigued by this piece of history because it seems to be so absurdly biblical in size and tone. From the sky going black in the middle of the day to the locusts, it smacks of the rapture.

It was a fantastic show and I learned a lot. Especially about the general futility of dusting.

But, after watching all the death, depression, suicide and dirt, I needed a drink and to surf to a show that would balance the sadness and make me feel a bit more lighthearted.

But, instead, I had the exceptional misfortune of coming across Liz and Dick on Lifetime.

Like a lot of you, I’ve been hearing about Lindsay playing Elizabeth Taylor for months and months as the big event that will give La Lohan’s career a second (or third or fourth) chance.

I can only hope that there is an infinite number of second chances in the universe or I will be sorely vexed by the Lohans, Downey Jrs. and Gibsons of the world.

So, figuring that nothing could be as devastating as the Dust Bowl, I hunkered down with my box of Good & Plenty’s and joined the other 3.5 million of you.

Wow. I was so wrong. This was actually much harder to watch than poor farmers losing their homes and land, losing children to lung disease and families starving.

So, in light of this, I will now write an open letter to the director, producer, exec or other brainchild who decided it would be a great idea to crap all over the memory of one of our celebrity legends.

Dear Lifetime Miscreants,

I get it, I really do. There is major bank to be made by casting Lindsay Lohan in just about anything. I know that, as experts in “Television for Women”, you are well aware that those of us with a vagina are none too keen on math.

Instead, in your worldview,  we dedicate ourselves to killing our husbands whilst in a jealous rage, seeking counseling for our alcoholism due to our sexual abuse as children, or we are unjustly deterred in an all-women’s prison all the while looking pretty hot.

But, I gotta figure that, you guys were thinking you’d be raking in some serious cash on the backs of all of the train-wreck watchers.

I have never been a big fan of LiLo as she has repeatedly pooped all over my most beloved childhood memories. Herbie Fully Loaded was a blow, but The Parent Trap put me into the fetal position. I’m sure Hayley Mills is rolling over in her grave.

The Parent Trap

We know, Hayley, it makes no sense to us either!

(I just looked it up and Hayley Mills is very much alive and not actually all that old so I officially apologize to Ms. Mills.)

But, beyond the Disney remakes, Lindsay is simply not a very good actress. She got by on freckled cuteness fine at the beginning but that charm is loooong gone.

With the exception of Mean Girls, which was good ONLY because of Tina Fey’s writing (a stump can be hilarious if Tina writes for it). I sort of want a shot of penicillin just looking at her.

There are dozens of other talented actresses who could have kicked butt in the role of Elizabeth Taylor. But, I understand, talent is not what this was about.

Here, let me get out my pink, bedazzled abacus and give this math thing a run: Given the cost of insuring someone like Lindsay Lohan (easily $400,000 PER DAY to keep her off whatever she’s on) the advertising dollars could still make up for it (probably to the tune of $300,000 for a 30-second spot). But, then factor in that you got only about half the viewers you thought you’d get…

Ouch.

Not that you run the risk of losing your farms or being descended upon by locusts. Doubtful that there will be any really long-term pain from this.

Except, of course, your contribution to our cultural Dust Bowl.

Yeah, thanks for that.

Sincerely,

Long time critic, first time watcher.

 

An Organized Day of Sloth and Gluttony

An Organized Day of Sloth and Gluttony

Ah, Thanksgiving. It’s the official kick-off of the holiday season. Or, as I like to call it, the start of my special 6-week alcohol bender cleanse.

I know this is a little early for a Thanksgiving blog but with the amount of tryptophan and vodka that will be coursing through my bloodstream next week, I figured it may be best to hit this one now.

And, maybe it’s good to get some of these thankful feelings in the forefront of our minds before having to spend time with your insane, dysfunctional families in tight quarters, having a food orgy as if they were all zombies at a brain buffet.

zombies

Save the cerebral cortex for me, Grandma!!

I thought I’d put together a list of the little things I’m thankful for. I know the norm is to be thankful for family, kids, good health, blah blah blah. But, I think we don’t stop to focus on those tiny little things that crop up every day that make us all question, if only for a moment, the need for the anti-depressants we are all taking.

So, here we go. Minutia I am thankful for.

People who are brave enough to give massages for a living. I can’t even begin to say how skeeved out I would be at the idea of having to oil up and rub my hands all over a complete stranger. The possible scenarios these poor saints must have to deal with….well, I just threw up in my mouth.

Awesome parking spots. This little thing can make my day. I somehow feel as if I have a force field of good luck around me for the entire day when I snag a spot right in front of where I am going. Conversely, when I see someone else with the force field, I am driven into a homicidal rage at the injustice of it.

People who are idiots because it gives me stuff to write about. I thank the cretans, morons, bigots, pundits, politicians and boneheads who give me mountains of material with which to mock them. They have given me countless hours of unbridled joy and I thank them and their cross-breeding parents.

People who wave when you let them into traffic. I love them! They make me want to not only let them in but also wash their car and buy them an ice cream. It may be my slavish response to positive reinforcement but, by God, it works! These people have been raised very well and most likely send hand written thank-you notes too. They always make my day feel more civil.

People who know how to write well. It’s like hearing angels sing.

People who make sense on Twitter. There are so few of you, I feel you probably know who you are. Let me illustrate this point by showing you the exact opposite of what I speak.

“AL mistake OMG Brian over Joe SO wrong my friend SO wrong I cant believe u made such a mistake Id go C Joe Buy Joes songs #SOWRONG

Yeah. I have no idea. And I wasted valuable time just trying to read it.

My dog, Calvin. If he were a human he’d be a total mensch. He is all-knowing and, I believe, the Gandhi of the dog world. I am mixing my cultures and religions but that’s how awesome he is.

Emma Stone. I don’t know. She just makes me happy whenever I see her.

A BIG thing I am particularly thankful for. Everyone who is kind enough to take time out of their lives to read what I write. This is no small thing and fills me with joy. I feel anytime someone gets even the smallest giggle, an angel gets their wings. I truly believe laughter can save the world.

I will attempt to continue to make this site worth visiting!!

Now, put on those elastic waist pants and go eat a shitpile of dead bird because you KNOW how I feel about birds. Especially flightless birds. At least Thanksgiving helps diminish the numbers.

kid and turkey

Artist’s rendering a mere moments before this child is pecked senseless by this feathered harbinger of evil.

To: God; Re: Anne Hathaway in Batman

To: God; Re: Anne Hathaway in Batman

To: God.Almighty@heaven.com

CC: Buddha@nliten.com, Shiva@rencarn8.com

BCC: Mephistopheles@newscorp.com,  Mel.Gibson@hell.com

Subject:  Oversight in creation – please make me Anne Hathaway

Hi God,

I know you are fairly booked up but wanted to see if we could find some time on our schedules to discuss a rather large oversight on your part.

I don’t want to point fingers or anything, I know we are all a team (some more functional members than others) but why did you see it fit to give all the good DNA to Anne Hathaway? After seeing The Dark Knight (by the way, THANK YOU for Joseph Gordon-Levitt) I could not help but notice the imbalance.

I’d hope you are not one to play favorites but wanted to just point out some areas for improvement. I have added a graphic for reference.

Anne Hathaway has legs up to her earlobes. I’m not even sure it’s possible to have legs that long but why not throw a few inches my way? Seems like she has more than is technically needed by a human.

Additionally, she does not appear to have a flaw on her skin…anywhere…at all. Perhaps you created her as a reference to the word “milky”. I do understand that it’s helpful to be able to point to specifics with adjectives but why reserve “ruddy” or “blotchy” for me?

Does she really need such big eyes and lips? Also, seems like these things could have been more evenly distributed amongst your flock.

I was going to add in her fabulous silky hair but I realized after she shaved her head for Les Miserable, it wasn’t even all that necessary. Though, one more thing she did get more than her fair share of.

If this seems like an unreasonable request, I am open to spit-balling a few other ideas. I’d be open to, say, a Kate Beckinsale or Penelope Cruz approach. Heck, if you were open to Tina Fey, I think we could make that happen.

Feel free to forward this to any other deities I may have missed who have signing power.

Oh, and thanks again for the “dying for our sins” project. Sorry that isn’t going as well as you had hoped but I really appreciate the effort.

Best regards,

Irene Barnett
General Manager, Sarcasm and Self-Deprecation (SSD) Division

Movie Review: Magic Mike (The Power of The Pectoral)

Movie Review: Magic Mike (The Power of The Pectoral)

I am your patron saint of protection from horrible pop culture. Bow before me.

The number of crappy books and shitty movies I will put myself through just so you don’t have to! You should all buy me a trophy or a medal or a new blender.

Once again, the mighty power of the horny middle-aged woman has reared her shiny, dyed head. They could rule the world if they took a break from the bodice-rippers and put down their Chardonnay long enough to join forces.

Several of these horny middle-aged women (herein referred to as HMAW) happen to be friends of mine and wanted me to join them to see Magic Mike. You know, the one about the best friends just working for a living in a skanky male strip club. Kind of like a nasty Laverne and Shirley.

HMAW: “But, Roger Ebert gave it two thumbs up!”

Me: “Didn’t he have a stroke or something?”

HMAW: “And, it’s directed by Steven Soderbergh. He did Traffic and is an Oscar-winner!”

Me: “Does he have kids in private school then? Why would he do a movie about strippers?”

HMAW: “Really, Irene, why wouldn’t you want to watch hot, naked men? The question is what is wrong with you?”

Me: <long pause> “Fair enough. OK.”

Anyhoo, I went because the pull of being snarky about bad entertainment is just too strong.

First thing I noticed was the clientele. It was a sea of mom jeans with a smattering of long-suffering husbands. I have no idea what the argument may have been to get a husband to this movie but I would have liked to have been a fly on that wall. Or, of course, the husbands are gay. That would actually explain everything.

So, let’s start out with the good bits, shall we?

Hot. Naked. Young. Men. Well, most of them were. There was one Mickey Roarke look-alike (not 9 1/2 Weeks Mickey Roarke but The Wrestler Mickey Roarke) that I found disturbing and uncomfortable. And, I think whoever that actor was also felt disturbed and uncomfortable. The rest, however, were young, tight and exceptionally well-oiled.

I did, however, find myself thinking that I’d kill my kids if they ever did something like this. So, while I may not wear mom jeans on the outside, I clearly have some on inside my head.

Ummmm, I think that was it for the good bits.

OK, now for the bad bits.

It was dumb.  You could have muted this entire movie and known exactly what was happening and how it would end. In fact, bring your noise cancelling headphones, eat your Dots and just watch.

The story is as old as the bible. Gorgeous single guy with lots of chutzpah who just wants to make it in the world who has multiple sexual encounters with multiple women but really cares and has a heart of gold that gets him in trouble until a nice grounded girl comes along who believes in him and clearly doesn’t seem to care about the multiple venereal diseases that she has now exposed herself to.

Pretty sure that is exactly what happened in the book of Job.

Matthew McConaughey.  I know I am inviting the wrath of all women out there with this one. I can feel the collective stink eye right now. Go ahead, start putting your hate mail together, I am expecting it. But, he does nothing for me. And, in this movie, he was so ridiculous and such an asshole that I had a hard time watching him.

If you have other-worldly abs hanging off a douchebag, is it still hot? Probably but I feel compelled to ask the question.

Men gyrating and groin-thrusting at lightning speed. I know what it’s supposed to simulate and I don’t know that it would be all that pleasant. Slow it down, Sparky. I am not a construction site and you are not a jackhammer.

It’s impressive how they don’t appear to throw out their backs when doing this, I totally give them that. And, actually, (SPOILER ALERT!) my favorite part of the movie is when one of them actually does throw out their back.

But, men are not built for this kind of movement. They are stiff and utilitarian and that’s how they should be.

Call me old fashioned but I don’t want my men prancing about with jazz hands.

I’ve been to a male strip club before and I never got dry humped.  Should I take that personally? Maybe I’m just all sour grapes on this because I feel slighted. In this movie the women in the crowd were being whipped around like rag dolls, getting felt up and ground upon. My mind ping ponged between “Law suit! Law suit!” and “Purell! Purell!” the entire time.

There you have it, good citizens of the blogosphere. I can’t necessarily say you should not see it. I just feel it is my public duty to make you aware of what you are seeing….which is a whole lot of shiny, pretty men.

And there ain’t nuthin’ bad about that.

True Blood – My Unhealthy Obsession with the Undead

True Blood – My Unhealthy Obsession with the Undead

So, I got fantastic news this morning but it was followed by a disturbing realization.

The fantastic news came in the form of a very personal mail from iTunes letting me know that Season 4 of True Blood was now available for download.

My knees went weak and I started to perspire as I’ve been waiting a year for this day to come. I have sorely missed Sookie and her unexplainable pull on a town full of hot vampires, werewolves and shape-shifters.

This, of course, is only the beginning of the suspension of disbelief as it turns out it’s her “fairy blood” that is the big draw. That and she’s a bit freaky in the bedroom (or on the ceiling or in a graveyard).

You can keep your lame-ass grandma porn with 50 Shades of Gray and give me some supernatural sex where you run the risk of becoming undead.

I may be wrong, but I don’t believe it’s possible to have an awkward sexual moment with a vampire. Except maybe for the smell. Seems like there’s got to be some odor issues with being dead and living underground during the day. Nothing a few hundred scented candles and a heavy dose of Febreze can’t fix especially if you are a ghoul who looks like Alexander Skarsgard. Hang one of those little tree car deodorizers on it and call it good!

The reality of this is, however, that all these blood-suckers would look more like Willem Defoe than Alexander Skarsgard. Not unlike the dream of most men that lesbians all look like Selma Hayak when in reality they are a closer match to Chaz Bono.

(I realize I’m talking about the reality of vampires – the absurdity of this is not lost on me.)

Which brings me to my disturbing realization – I have some weird thing for vampires. Allow me to dip my toe in the freaky pool for a moment here.

I know there is a whole sub-culture of Goth teenagers who are super into this stuff but I do not fall into this category at all. I would never have figured myself for a real vampire lover. But, I now must question this and potentially everything I thought I knew about myself.

Clearly, Dark Shadows had a much more lasting effect on my psyche than I would like to acknowledge. It molded me in ways I don’t know nor am prepared to dive into further. Plus, I’m not sure my health benefits cover this level of psycho-therapy. I need to read that Obama-care thing….

So, in the meantime, I intend to fully embrace and give in to my no-longer-secret obsession and hope for the day vampires become real and I get me some fairy blood.

And, that is a sentence I never would have thought I would write….

A Word About Vampires

A Word About Vampires

When I was little, Barnabas Collins rocked my world. I would run home from Catholic school and gladly dive from the divine light of our savior, Jesus Christ, to the dark underworld of vampires.

It was my favorite half hour in the universe. Dark Shadows was this weird acid-trip of a gothic soap opera that featured the tormented Barnabas Collins, the tortured and impassioned vampire and a pioneer for the piecey bang look.  It was scary and romantic and probably the worst show on television.

There is a huge cult following to this day and I know there will be a mob of angry fanboys with torches on my front lawn any minute now….(not to overstate the obvious delusions I have that anyone outside my best friends and family actually read this blog).

But, truly, I defy you to follow the Escher-like maze of a storyline. There were actors playing multiple roles, timelines that jumped from present to past to parallel universes to living to dead and back again.

I was a 6-year-old Goth and a tip o’ the hat to my mother for supporting my addiction. I’m sure it molded my love of The Cure. Picture, if you will, Robert Smith in a Brownie uniform.

So, imagine my sunken-eyed delight when I heard that Tim Burton was making a movie of my beloved Collinwood. And, with the singular Johnny Depp as well. Be still my bloodless heart!

(I wonder if Johnny Depp just sits in front of his mirror saying “You, my man, are freakin’ amazing. Is there nothing you can’t do?” I know I would do exactly that if I were Johnny Depp. Aren’t you glad I’m not?)

Now, I haven’t seen the movie yet but I do have an innate distrust of taking my beloved 60’s and 70’s TV childhood and slapping lipstick and a push-up bra on it. We never let anything age gracefully, do we?

It certainly didn’t do the Beverly Hillbillies Movie any favors. What? You didn’t see it? Point made.

See, one of the best parts of Dark Shadows was how absurdly bad it was. I’m not sure they could really capture the art of a boom hitting an actor in the head, the craft services dude eating a donut just to the left of the grand staircase, or the fly that continually lands on Josette’s nose as she pleads with Barnabas. Even a child knew they were witnessing something terrible and brilliant all at the same time.

But, because the FLIPPIN’ AWESOME Johnny Depp is in it and the FREAKIN’ BRILLIANT Tim Burton is at the helm, I will give it a chance. They are the two-headed idiot savants of creativity so if they can’t pull it off, who can? Maybe no one. In which case, perhaps we should leave bad enough alone.

Screw You Hunger Games (or, Why I’m a Filthy Hypocrite)

Screw You Hunger Games (or, Why I’m a Filthy Hypocrite)

I think I’m better than pop culture and yet I have a Rain Man ability to absorb its useless content and even take pride in spewing it out at dinner parties like an annoying tic.

I don’t, as a rule, watch reality TV because I’ve had my fill of seeing people at their worst from years of hitting the Nordstrom half-yearly sale.

I don’t understand the whole Twilight thing so I tried reading a page of it and proceeded to throw it across the room. Then peed on it and started it on fire.

I never read any of the Harry Potters because, well, I’m not 10.

But, for some reason, I occasionally get sucked into the stinking maw of some show, book or movie that holds little or no redeeming value. I don’t even really like reading or watching this stuff, but I simply don’t have the strength to fight it. I know it’s bad for me but I’m a moth to the flame. I’m guessing it’s some sort of substitute for the drug, sex and alcohol abuse that I left behind years ago (strike that last one and get me a drink).

  • I did get sucked into American Idol, especially the first seasons (who am I kidding, I just started to ween off it last season). There, I said it. Spit on me, call me names. I’ve done the same to myself. The demise of that show has forced a modicum of dignity back into my life.
  • The Hunger Games. Fuck you, Katniss Everdeen and your sassy braid for making me wish I were a slave to an evil totalitarian society and that my parents had coughed up archery lessons (yet another misstep in my upbringing).
  • Now, I’ll drag my husband into the muck with me. When we had tiny, mewling, puking, premature twins, we got hooked on both Cheaters and The Anna Nicole Smith Show. I will blame this on program timing since they were on during a scheduled feeding and we had to space out on something. I will also say that nothing made our lives feel just a little less desperate than to watch others walk in front of the train. I am not a better person than that.
  • I used to watch Melrose Place….the original one because, yes, I’m old. Get over it. And I went to high school with Lisa Rinna (go Black Tornadoes).

My saving grace is Downton Abby….or is it? Isn’t it really just Dallas-on-the-Thames? You stick a bustle and an accent on it and suddenly its culture. Don’t forget, these are the same people who gave us Benny Hill.

So, I thank you, dear readers, for allowing me to go through the cultural equivalent of self-flagellation. I feel a little cleaner now as I watch the second Hunger Games book download to my iPad.