Saturday, January 31, 2009

Astroglide couldn't be too choosy about their models

What about the MAN HANDS? Does it take those out of the relationship too??

Maybe This is Harsh


But I think that Matthew McConaughey needs to be killed. First there is his accent which is one part Southern drunkard and one part relaxed hippie. And EVERYONE hates a hippie.
The constant disregard for clothing, in particular shirts, is really excessive. It even has my dad crossing a homophobic line to mention, "Have you seen his stomach? He's really cut; his body is just unbelievable." The public workouts, the shitty movies (Failure to Launch? Surfer, Dude?) the natural beach bum lifestyle. Most offensive, though is the CLOTHING LINE he has given the public: it's called J.K. Livin and it stands for Just Keep Livin'. Which is apparantly his motto. I don't know if this means like, roll with it, or if he's actually telling us to literally keep breathing in order to sustain ourselves. I know it'd be fucked up because he just had a son and all, but I think it'd really be doing the kid a favor by sparing him a life of douchebaggery.
I will leave you with McConaughey desribing the birth of his son:

"We found a great rhythm, contractions started kicking in. I sat there with her, right between her legs. We got tribal on it, we danced to it! I was DJ-ing this Brazilian music. This is where I learned -- and no one tells you this -- but having a baby is a bloody, pukey, sweaty, primeval thing!"
I know, what a dumbass.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Ironic moustaches and glasses are HIP




I can't seem to muster up the strength to write anything more on this phenomenon; the massive look of disdain on my face has drained me.

Parents of the Year Corn



As my friends have all heard, I excitedly stumbled upon blog after blog on my Saturday night only to land with the truly-a-gem http://www.momlogic.com/ in my precious hands.


Said blog had a little ditty called "Lazy Mom Confessions," http://www.momlogic.com/2009/01/lazy_mom_confessions.php ,

the byline of which read "I sometimes let my son eat food that the dogs have licked because I'm too lazy to make more."
The forum also states that "In order to protect the identities of the moms involved (and to ensure that social services aren't called -- just kidding), I'm not using any names." I was just thinking the other day that people need to chill the fuck out and stop protecting children and start protecting parents, because it just seems more important.
Was my mom's gourmet burger with crumbled feta cheese really just a meat patty she dropped in the litter box and was too lazy to brush off, let alone make a new, safe food item?
Maybe I can't relate because I don't have kids and maybe I've been eating food licked by the fucking dog for 23 years, but......well, yeah.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Celebrity Look-Alikes:"I'm B-List with a Moustache"



Top: Actor Martin Mull, of many TV shows, most memorable for me being Sabrina the Teenage Witch
Bottom: Philadelphia's Temple University's Thomas E. Mitten, for whom many building and crap are named.
Right? They look alike?

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Movie Review: "The Pedophiliac Case of an Old Man Baby," or "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"


Okay, so I actually did see this movie, although not all the way through. It starts off with an old New Orleans lady who is dying in a hospital, and as she goes, her nervous and unexplainably guilty daughter reads her Benjamin Button's diary. Before this happens, however, audiences are subjected to listening to the old lady talk for about 20 minutes. This is uncomfortable, annoying, and excruciating because she's dying and her voice is all warbly and gasping; every sentence takes like a year to complete. Once the daughter takes over, though, we learn that Brad Pitt was born a gross wrinkled old man baby and that his button salesman (or maker? I wasn't paying close attention) leaves him on the doorstep of what I think is an old people's home.
How coincidental and fitting to be left here, he "fits" right in. Benjamin develops a friendship/romance with an 8 year old Cate Blanchett. This is creepy and gross because even though they're both 8 or some shit, it's not so different than an old man wanting to get with a little kid. Anyways, Benjamin gets a job on a tugboat where he makes friends with a cast of characters that teach him things in life, the main point that was slapped in my face every fifteen minutes being that 'You never know what's coming," at which point the movie started to shape itself like a shitty version of Forrest Gump.
There's a lot of symbolism (the clock the crazy mourning guy built, the damn hummingbird) and nothing is more forced than 'epic' movies situating themselves, well, forceably, into historical events. On the tugboat, Button witnesses WWII gunfire, and let's just say that even the exciting parts of this movie are slow and boring.
I didn't finish it, but I'm guessing he has a romance with Cate Blanchett (following his romance with Tilda Swinton who basically looks the same as her), grows younger, meets more colorful characters that teach him life lessons, learns that you never know what's coming for you, which begins to sound less fun and more threatening. He probably gets younger but has a rich life and then dies a baby, the way he was supposed to fucking look when he was born.
Lastly, Brad Pitt is generally in good movies, but they're never good because of him. He's mediocre, not a good character actor, and even in old man makeup, he still looks like Brad Pitt.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Blast From the Past: Leo "I'm not gay because I date supermodels" DiCaprio




In 5th, especially 6th, and 7th grade I was crazy obsessed with Leonardo DiCaprio. I seriously thought we would meet and get married. I won't reveal how many times I (made an adult take me to) saw Titanic, but it's a lot more than you're probably thinking. I'm super glad I made it through the psycho celebrity stalker phase and delusional pubescence aside, let's see how far Leo has come:
Ugh. I don't know, I'll be nice and keep it minimal and just say that he got not fat but that weird puffy/alcoholic/bloaty shit going on; he keeps the dumbest fucking facial hair that if it were not attached to a face would be the disguise they sell at a Halloween store sold as "Douchebag Goatee"; and he somehow went from boyishly adorable to suffering (embracing?) a serious case of gayface.
He pretty much just looks sloppy as shit.

Celebrity Look-Alikes: My Boyfriend Thinks I'm Racist




All because there are 3 black actors I commonly confuse: Taye Diggs, Omar Epps, and Mekhi Phifer. HOWEVER, I do not deserve the same look I get when I guess the wrong name for the abovementioned dudes when I say that:

Anthony Mackie (below), who is playing Tupac in the new movie Notorious.....

definitely looks like some (...retarded...) version of Will Smith (top)

....right?

Celebrity Look-Alikes: I'm Going To Hell
















Top: My Girl's Anna Chlumsky

Bottom: Jett Travolta, John Travolta's recently deceased 16-year old son


Yeah, even I feel a little bad about that one.

Reviews of Movies I Haven't Seen: "Making White Women Look Retarded," or "Bride Wars"



So apparantly Kate Hudson and Anne Hathaway are best friends, both of whose wedding gets book for the same day at the Plaza. Personally, this doesn't seem like the kind of dumbshit mistake the Plaza would make, but I do know it's under sketchy new ownership so I suppose it's plausible.

Anyway, this creates a big selfish rift in the friendship and results in nasty-bitch-shenanigans like Kate Hudson somehow being able to sneak into a tanning salon with the always helpful scarf over your head and sunglasses and fucking with Anne Hathaway's tanning session. I assume this goes on for about an hour, while their boyfriends try to figure out if they're both on the rag or just dumb spoiled bitches who can't compromise or find another suitable venue in all of New York City.

They must figure something out, because the trailor shows the both of them in wedding gowns fighting. And not sexy-underwear-jello-wrestling fighting, but lame screechy cat-fighting. I assume someone's wedding gets ruined but they apologize for being hags and end it with a double wedding.

Yay.

Oh, and it looks like maybe Dane Cook is in the movie, which must mean it's phenomenal. And Candace Bergen definitely is, reprising her now-pigeon-holed role as Stern, Business-like Older Woman.

Book Review: I Fucked a Nazi, or Bernhard Schlink's "The Reader"



I had never heard of this book until I saw previews for the movie and because it has Kate Winslet in it, I mistakenly assumed the story would be really earth-shattering. Adding to my excitement was the "Oprah's Book Club" banner across the top.





Bear in mind the book is written in German, so perhaps something was lost in translation. But I really doubt it and conclude that Oprah put in on her list because it talks about the Holocaust and therefore, it must be important. Similarly, the story involves a thirty-something woman fucking a fifteen year-old boy, therefore it must be shocking and film-worthy and additionally Kate Winslet will have another chance to show her tits.



Ok, summary:
Michael Berg is a fifteen year old kid in post-war Germnay who barfs on the way home from school. Some lady sees him surrounded in puke and grabs him and cleans him up at her apartment. It turns out he has hepatits and when he's better he goes to thank her, accidentally sees her in her slip, gets embarassed and runs away. He then gets bold and horny and goes back to her building and they start fucking and she makes him read to her. Like all the time. They do it every day and even take a four day vacation and the narrator conveniently doesn't "remember what [he] told [his] parents," which is possible but mostly just seems like lazy writing. Anyways, she (Hanna) disappears one day and Michael doesn't see her again until he's in law school and she's on trial for being an Nazi concentration camp guard. Michael's obsessed with her, realizes she's illiterate and sends her tapes of him reading to her in jail. The day before she is supposed to get out, she kills herself and Michael reflects on what kind of person she really was (strong, determined, victimized, Nazi) and how he never loved anyone after her (because she fucked him when he was 15).

Whew, now, the high and low-lights:
  • He feels embarassed and guilty when he is at the town pool with his friends and sees Hanna, but does not acknowledge her, probably because he's embarassed to reveal that he's basically doing his mom.
  • Hanna makes Jewish concentration camp girls read to her, and Michael rationalizes that it' to make their last month before getting gassed better. Whatever helps you sleep.
  • Only two astute and somewhat meaningful pieces in the book: 1)"Or is there no such thing as 'too late'? Is there only 'late' and is 'late' always better than 'never'? I don't know." Yeah, me neither. 2)Something to the effect of "Why does what was beautiful suddenly shatter in hindsight because it concealed dark truths? Why does the memory of years of happy marriage turn to gall when our partner is revealed to have had another lover all those years?" Well, because your partner lied, broke his vows, and fucked someone else.

Fascinatingly enough, I found the image of the cover on a website titled fantasicfiction.com which is ironic because the book was shockingly mediocre.

"I Really Need a Ring" or Beyonce's "Single Ladies"


Is it just me, or is Beyonce's "Single Ladies" not so much an "anthem" for women standing up for themselves, but a whiny broad bitching about a piece of jewelry? Big words coming from the mouth of a lady who received an 18-carat, 5 million dollar engagement ring form Jay Z.

Also, her husband's wedding ring looks like a lady's and I don't think diamonds on men are anything but corny.

Straight From the Horse's Mouth


Welcome to the Peanut Gallery, or Peanuts Magee. This has nothing to do with Charles Schultz, so if you resemble Robin Williams in "One Hour Photo" and like to clip the reruns of Peanuts comics and scrapbook them, jump ship now.


Rather, this is where I plan to type my comments from the peanut gallery that consistently pour out of my mind and mouth but that everyone around me is sick of having to respond to.


Lastly, that little dog is Sam Magee.

Think of him as the mascot of this blog, or my life.