Hopefully Larry the Cable Guy Didn't Beat Me to Most of These...

I feel like the topic of White Trash never gets old.
I've been around these people my entire life. Some of whom are my dearest friends, neighbors, and hell--there's probably more than a bit of WT in my own heart and soul, too, having grown up in the country.
Here are some well-thought out symptoms of white trashiness that I jotted down tonight, with the assistance of someone who happened to be dipping his leftover pizza crusts in ketchup. Let's just say I was inspired.

Enjoy!

You Are Almost Definitely White Trash If:


1) You keep Christmas lights up all year long...Especially outside the house on the roof or porch.

2)You eat ketchup on everything. Especially things that should never, ever be paired with ketchup. Such as pizza.

3) There is any liquid other than milk in your baby's bottle. Extra points if the liquid is cola or Hi-C.

4)You proudly display pictures of your vehicle(s) on Facebook or Myspace. Not just cars, but also (and specifically) ride-on mowers and farm equipment.

5)Kraft singles are your favorite kind of cheese. You will not eat cheese unless it comes individually plastic-wrapped in slices, and you are over the age of ten.

6)You won't spend 75 cents on a head of lettuce for salad with dinner, but you will pay an extra dollar to secure Pepsi or Coke over a generic brand cola.

7)When you get too fat for your underwear, you cut a slit in the elastic waistband, rather than buying new ones that fit properly.

8)Pizza Rolls are a common and complete supper at your home. You buy them in bags of, like...200.

9)The above ground pool at your house stops being used as a pool, and slowly becomes more of a pond, complete with algae and amphibians. Eventually, aquatic plants take root as well.

10)You are 17 and 6'1, but still ride a BMX bike designed for a seven year old. Instead of sitting to pedal, you stand and coast as often as possible to look cooler on the Lilliputian bike.

11) Your pick up's tailgate is made from a different material than your truck. Such as plastic cargo netting or a 2x4.

12)Peeing outside in the daytime without any attempt at modest concealment. Or, you tend to urinate into inappropriate receptacles. (Example: plastic cup.)

13)Your home contains a CB radio or scanner, but you are not an EMT or volunteer firefighter...You just want to know what's going on in town before everyone else does.

14) The aforementioned ride-on lawn mower has a cup holder that you personally added on, post-purchase.

Tomorrow Morning Motivation

Try not to dance your way into the bathroom while waking up to "Every Day I'm Hustlin'" by Rick Ross.
This works if you have to get up early in the morning and need some motivation, or if your job just sucks every stinkin' day. Maybe you don't have a job, but you plan on collecting cans to return for the deposit, this shit will get you moving. Hell, you could be gearing up for a walk down to Stewart's, to buy/immediately scratch several lottery tickets, only to return home and light up a crack pipe. Either way, this particular Rick Ross jam will make it seem purposeful!

8 Reasons Why Homeless (or Aspiring Homeless) Folks Need Gym Memberships

So, the other day after I got fired from a job that I was told I was never really hired for, I was walking to the gym. I started thinking about how silly it was, having a gym membership and all when I could barely even pay my bills. But then, I started giving it some thought: despite its seeming frivolity, the gym actually provides a lot in the way of amenities and entertainment--aside from the obvious benefit of exercise. It kind of dawned on me, after a few minutes of deep pondering, that perhaps the gym is really the most valuable membership that a person could have. I would go so far even as to venture that all homeless people should gather enough cans per month to pay the $10 Planet Fitness membership fee. The following are 8 reasons why you honestly need the gym, even when you are basically living off cat food and sleeping in a cardboard box:

1) Unlimited TV watching. Yep, the gym has cable. Maybe not HBO and the good movie channels (at least mine doesn't have these) but hey--many places will even allow you to change the channel! You say your favorite show is on Tuesdays at 9? No problem! Just pencil yourself in for some stationary bike ride-age each week at that time. While you're at it, you can even be sure to catch Family Guy, Jersey Shore, or whatever other show floats your boat. Exercise at the same time? Score!

2)Free showers. Well, this takes care of a huge obstacle--cleanliness. You can wash up every single time you go to the gym, and if you use the back door, you could probably just shower and leave if you aren't in the mood to pump iron. Did I mention there are hairdryers in the locker rooms?!

3)Unlimited candy. Our gym has two food groups covered for you, if cat food gets old or you run out. Who wants TOOTSIE ROLLS and M&Ms?! The tootsies are free, while you need a mere 25 cents for a handful of delicious chocolate-covered peanut morsels. Not only that, but two days per month there are free meals, in the form of a bagel breakfast and pizza dinner! Seriously, what more could you need?

4) Unlimited drinking water. Delicious, rich suburban water fountain with ice cold H2O? Yes, please!

5) Socializing. There are lots of people of all ages to choose from, and they're basically a captive audience. Heck, an old foreign man may even offer to let you towel off his hairy back...BONUS!

6) Music--it's not always choice, but there's often something motivational playing over the loudspeaker. If you stay long enough, you may even be lucky enough to hear the off-hand oldies tune.

7) Free bottles/cans--so many people sweating, drinking shit tons of water and sports beverages. And, did you hear about the new NYS law that makes water bottles eligible for a monetary refund? OH yeah!

8) The lost and found box. How much better does life get? Are you feeling chilly? Simply reach into the lost and found box to "claim" yourself two mismatched mittens. Need to hawk something at the pawn shop for a little spending (read: crack) cash? That "#1 Mom" heart necklace done in 18K gold with diamond chips for each child would probably fetch at least $50 down the street.

Video Evidence of Parental Embarrassment

Parents have always been embarrassing.

Since the beginning of time, from The Charleston to The Macarena, our parents have been dancing ridiculously and making us want to disown them. Heck, my sister claims that our own mother once attempted to give her an inebriated lap dance, but that's neither here nor there...

The really shitty thing about these magical Modern Times is that when our parents try to be cutting edge (while cutting a rug) there will be YouTube evidence and viral videos rampant as never-ending proof of the unfortunate events.

In every single other way, I believe that kids these days are mushy turds who would crumble under the weight of a devastatingly crushing two minutes unattached to a mobile cellular device or Wii.

However, I have just a smidgen of sympathy for these two girls, due to the fact that their father will live in infamy on the Internet as the RoboFag that made Ru Paul look like John Wayne in the heterosexuality department.

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Something tells me one of these kids is going to get dragged out of a strip club by her clear stilettos in a few years...

Poopy Tassel

If preppy pet sweaters and retarded bandannas weren't embarrassing enough, 

check out these new courtesy flaps that go over your pet's dirt star.

(This blog has basically been writing itself lately, with all of the good material out there!)

*Thanks to Amanda G. for inspiring this post. :o)

Poultry Panic

Vocal, disappointed (and hilarious) customers of a Popeye's Chicken outrage:

Dirty Souf Leprechan

I posted this on Facebook, but you know what? I wasn't fucking satisfied with the feedback provided. A few wonderful people commented on the goodness of this video, but not nearly enough--Considering how ridiculously GREAT it is!



I think I need to move to Mobile, Alabama....

WOW, guys.

I'm so freakin' sorry I haven't been on here since...JUNE 18?! What the hell is wrong with me? Anyway, rather than grovel at your feet, beg for your forgiveness and start gagging down everyone's sock-eyed salmons, I think I'll just try and redeem myself with an amazing clip from Hot Tub Time Machine.
 I know, I know, I had my doubts about this movie at first, too. It looked like it could be another one of those shitty "bro ha has": a mega-gay opus to Dude Love, thinly masked as a humorous romp through those glory days of yore (that anyone over age 21 seems to mourn).
Well, it's way fucking more than that--it's seriously hilarious, and Rob Corddry reminded me of my ardent love for bald guys, especially of the comic variety. (Seriously: David Cross, Jim Gaffigan, Dave Chapelle, like 20 others...A-freakin-mazing!)

Anyway, sorry about that nasty little hiatus, and please enjoy:

I Can't Stand It.

So good it makes me want to die.

Day of the Mommies

 In honor of all our Mothers have done for us, let's spend a little time with them today--either physically or in memory/though if that is our only option, and take a look at these super cute baby/mommy animal pictures I found on Life magazine's website. To all the Moms I know: I love you all, you are some of the strongest and most giving humans on earth. Three cheers for the Mommies!

Food Photography vs. People Pictures

 We've been discussing food photography a little bit and how it can be both amusing and repulsive--slyly appealing to the same place inside of our minds where we get urges for other kinds of hungers to be satiated as well.

In keeping with the photography theme, and also in honor of all the sinfully delicious "fair foods" that will be at Tulip Fest today (which I fully intend to gorge on) I wanted to show you guys this collection of food photography that was on NPR this morning. This is food photography done WELL. It actually makes me hungry, rather than making me feel like I have to go take a shower. I think this photo collection is to the Ihop set as a Vogue photo shoot of a naturally beautiful girl would be to a  Hustler magazine shoot of Tara Reid or someone with massive plastic boobies and a fake face, haha. Food for thought!



http://www.npr.org/blogs/pictureshow/2010/05/07/126610610/food

Oh, and by the way--I went to Friendlys yesterday, and BOY are they guilty of pornographic food advertising! I was looking over the menu and laughing my ass off. "Happy Endings?!" For visual reinforcement of what I mean, go to the website and take a look at the Mango Raspberry Swirl Sorbet on the left hand side. Ummmm...Was it really necessary for them to position a mango in the picture right next to a scoop of identically sized sorbet? The mango even has a little nub on it like a nipple! Needless to say, I did get the sorbet and it was pretty amazing...

Culinary Pornography

Alright. Take a look at this picture for me, will you?

 

Looks pretty innocent, right?

Well, take another look. 

Don't the colors seem freakishly bright? Do you feel like the placement of the food is kind of strange? Strange as in vaguely....Erotic?

I know, it may be a stretch, but bear with me here--

What do we see in the first square:

1. 2 eggs over easy, placed side by side.

2. Two sausages, cooked well until wrinkled.

How about the second square:

1. A bun or sub roll with an array of vegetables including red tomatoes, some melted cheese, and chicken or some sort of cold cut.

And the third square?

1. A round slab of what appears to be medium rare roast beef or steak.

Finally, the fourth square:

1. A pile of three pillow-y pancakes with runny red syrup, strawberries, two round slices of banana, placed laterally but generously spaced; and, in conclusion, a dollop of whipped cream on top in the middle.

Does this seem weird yet?

Let's recap:

The vivid colors, the bright lighting, the little spiky dialogue blurbles that urge you to consume ever-more sumptuous, decadent delights. (Oh, you know them..The ones you really SHOULDN'T consume?) 

Even the motto at the bottom seems a little vaguely sexual:

"Come Hungry, Leave Happy!"

If you still aren't sure what I mean, let me me elaborate:

Is it just me, or does this look oddly like a page from Hustler?

*Discuss!*

Writer's Almanac

(*Please read all of this aloud, slowly and with undue emphasis, in Garrison Keillor voice.*) If you don't know what that sounds like, listen first to this:

Now, if you're also wondering what the guy looks like who is speaking in such a manner, let me assist you:

Ok, now that we've got that taken care of....


The Writer's Almanac for Thursday, April 29, 2010:

Here is a poem for today by surrealist lunatic Poet-in-Residence Jessica L. Towne, entitled "Weasel Moon."

 "Weasel Moon" was conceived on this very spring evening, while Towne stood in front of the refrigerator pondering the meaning of a chocolate chip cookie. (Which was made fresh just moments before by her co-inhabitant and close friend, the popular musician T.D. Krebs).
"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."

The Best Thing You May Ever See in Your Life

I don't know who the cross dressing individual is who made this amazing objet d'art, but I pretty much want to make sweet love to him. If you don't think this is funny, there is seriously no hope for you. Either that or you are not from New York/the Northeastern United States, in which case, I forgive you. If you are from the Northeast, you will find this funny. Every single person in this region is either related to or knows someone (or several someones) who look/sound like this, especially on the phone.


b

Please enjoy! I have been working on a little somethin' for you people, but unfortunately I've had to do too much actual...well, WORK, and haven't had the chance to post it up fer yer enjoyment as of yet. Still working on it, kids!

I'm Considering Changing the Name of This Blog

What's the new domain name and theme going to be?
Ralph Fiennes is a Robot. (dot com.)

Seriously guys, think about it. Have you ever seen a movie with Ralph Fiennes in it?
You don't think so? Well actually, YOU HAVE. If you've ever seen The English Patient, Maid in Manhattan, Schindler's List or, um...ANY of the Harry Potter movies (he is Lord Voldemort) then you've seen him. The only thing is, he can definitely be elusive. He's easy to overlook because he's incapable of successfully conveying feelings. He's really more of a moving prop than an actor in many films.
I would make the same argument about someone like Keanu Reeves, except Reeves just strikes me as a really dumb stoner, not so much someone who is so cold, so unfeeling, that he would be capable of tearing somebody limb from limb without so much as an utterance. (If you saw Red Dragon, you will know exactly what I mean in the Fiennes department.) It's not so much that he is great at being evil--it's that he is great at acting with that special brand of non-emotive neutrality that chills REAL humans to their souls. It is the kind of acting that only a MACHINE could consistently perform. Because that's what machines are designed to do--consistently perform.

Let's take "Maid in Manhattan," for example. A horrific movie, I don't debate that. He is the romantic lead, though, and I ask you this: How fucking hard is it to be more convincing than J. Lo in "Maid in Manhattan?" This guy didn't have a difficult task. He just had to act happy, and pretend to be in love with a hot chick packing a shapely arse.
He failed at both of these quests...MISERABLY.
This just comes back to the core reason...Ralph Fiennes is--I shit you not--a robot.
Robots = entirely incapable of conveying human emotion or even emulating the idea of it. He cannot act happy. He does not know what "love" is, what it means or even what it seems like. Not even for 4.5 million dollars, or whatever ridiculous sum he was paid to exist in that movie. But why would he even care? Money doesn't mean shit to robots.

Let's examine another movie. If any of you have ever seen "The Chumscrubber," well...I am really sorry about that. I had this same misfortune tonight myself, but I can't say it was a total waste of my time. This is due to the fact that Ralph Fiennes was more robotic than EVER BEFORE in this film. Never have I seen him act with such recklessly terrifying machine-esque  control. I couldn't find any clips on Youtube of the scene that I crave in order to hammer my point home, so I will just describe it:
At one point, Fiennes steps out onto a patio in the home of a perfect stranger and walks slowly into her pool, fully clothed. He does this while looking straight ahead, without even the twitch of a smile, frown, or frankly, any hint that there is mortal breath contained in his "body." It's grotesque.
And what the hell is with this strange accent he exhibits in his entire canon of films? I thought he was from Austria or something, a la Governator Arnie, but upon further investigation, I found out that he is....English?! I don't fuckin' buy it, Fiennes. The pseudo-royal pedigree is just another construct of your creator's robot-obsessed imagination.

Oh, and while we're at it, did anybody read about his little real life tussle with Qantas Airlines? Apparently, he had sexual relations with a flight attendant in the plane bathroom, while flying to Africa for a UNICEF AIDS dealie. First of all, UNICEF, Ralph? Pretty cliche and overly respectable charity choice. Secondly, sex on airplane with a stewardess? Sounds like just the kind of played out bullshit a robot would invent to make people think it is human. I imagine it went something like this:

ROBOT FIENNES *Thinking*:
This will stump them. I will act as if I need sex. Because I am a silly human. Sex is a human need, therefore I will be perceived as indisputably human. MUAHAHA, they will never find me out!

The bottom line is that Ralph Fiennes is not just a robot, but also unintentionally hilarious. Here, we have a super-famous actor who has played lots of heady roles,  whom many people are severely sexually attracted to, and he is actually a machine; entirely incapable of exhibiting human emotion in any convincing manner.

If you still can't see what I mean, check out this clip. You will really need to fast forward to about 48 seconds in, which he descends from the stairs to the stage. Take a look at his stance and his walk. Totally electronic, right? That's not even the best part. Once he takes a seat at about 55 seconds in, check out the fuckin' WEIRD shit he does with his neck. He turns his head WAY too quickly--two times--and you can practically hear the gears turning as he operates. At this magic moment, he is a rock 'em sock 'em robot with a mechanical malfunction.

Unholy Matrimony

Yeah, I went ahead and posted twice today. Why would I do such a thing after spending 8 hours writing articles? Why on EARTH would I spend even another minute on this blog, or watching retarded videos on YouTube? Because I'm sick in the head, I guess.

I really have no excuse or logical reason for posting this, except that I just love it. It's wacky, hilarious, and more than a little bit disturbing. Oh, and...is that fucking A.C. Slater marrying Pee Wee to the fruit salad? No? OK, just checking.



Enjoy.

Photographic Interlude

I adore this.

Some of these images are beautiful, others, terrifying.

Human history is an amazing thing, and I particularly love the invention of photography. Sometimes I feel that photos are the only way to prove to myself that things actually DID happen--once enough time has passed that a distant memory almost feels like it could have been a dream. It's comforting at times, but it can also be a reminder of the horrible aspects of history that humanity should never repeat.
 Check out the link if you are into that sort of thing.

More posts to come, but I have been bogged down with PAYING work (yay!) so it's been hard to conjure up hilarious, long-ass posts when my eyes are dry as a bone, and I am quivering from staring at the computer all day long.

Tell-Tale Signs of Spring

Ah, Spring.

It's more than simply a breath of "fresh" air. It's the beautiful breath that doesn't catch in my lungs, unlike the frigid dagger of an icicle mother nature attempts to pawn off as laborious "breathing" in January temps.
There is so much more to love about Spring than just the temperature, though. It's all of the fun and hilarious hijinks that result from people coming out of hibernation.
Hence, the list:

Tell-Tale Signs of Spring:

1. Motorists Pumping Shamefully Horrible Music.

Is it just me, or do 50 degree temperatures practically DICTATE that everyone has to roll their car windows down and BLAST the shit out of horrible hip hop music the instant their car slows to a near stop? I noticed this while walking to Stewart's to cash a scratch-off today (I know, who's really the white trash here? No car, walking to Stewart's, lottery ticket...I'm basically scum.) Every single man, woman and child that drove by me, regardless as to whether they were driving a GMC pickup or a Mercedes S Class, seemed to be listening to fucking DMX at the traffic light!

"Y'all gon' make me lose my mind, up in HERE, up in here!
Y'all gon' make me act a FOOL up in HERE, up in here!" 

Seriously, dude...You drive a Benz, and you can't afford to purchase (or for that matter, download) some music that is...Perhaps a little bit more up to date?! Or, maybe you guys just like listening to a depressingly irritating guy with three initials instead of a name, who feels he has to scream at the top of his fucking lungs instead of, I don't know--rapping, or god forbid--SINGING?

I'm gon' act a motherfreakin' fool up in here if I have to hear that one more time.

The best part of this was that it wasn't even sunny out today for 45 seconds. I can understanding losing your shit for a little while when the sun's out, when it dawns on you that our 6 month run of winter could be finally be crawling to a halt. That would make many a sane human break out the Ja Rule/DMX. But for REAL? It was a whopping 50 degrees out, and cloudy with a chance of bullshit. At least the weathermen were right about something for a change. The bullshit.

2.  Sandals, shorts and...tube tops?!

What the hell. I have been made to face the fact that some SUNY Albany students just can't bear to replace their cargo shorts with some reasonable pants during the Nor'Easter months, but sandals AND shorts on March 12? That's pushing it. Sorry dude, I know you're already drunk in anticipation of tomorrow's St. Patrick's Day parade, but you're not in Daytona for break quite yet. Oh, and ladies? The terrycloth skirts with tube tops? I know you were looking to get taken advantage of this weekend, but it's no fun spending Saturday festivities dead in a ditch with your skirt pulled over your shoulders since Friday night. Not so hot.

3. Cadbury Creme Eggs; All Easter Candy For That Matter.

Yeah, I'm not being sarcastic about this one. There's nothing snarky to say here, I just love the yum-yums. And once they appear on the scene at CVS or the supermarket, you know Spring is waiting for you around the corner--snuggled into a cute purple basket with some plastic-y green "grass." Tasty and adorable.
I'm a Jew, so I don't really do the Jesus-related Easter stuff. However, I've gotta admit, Cadbury Creme Eggs beat the crap out of Gifilte fish, which just doesn't look cute (floating around in glass jars like the turds of terminally ill men.) There's nothing cute and festive about Gifilte fish. Or the feces of the dying.

4. PLANTS!

I'm a super-nerd when it comes to gardening and plants of all sorts. The other day, my dog sat on a pile of what I assumed to be dead leaves and other organic rubbish. Then, I spotted a tender green shoot poking out of the dirt, directly to the side of said dog's hiney.
 Removing dog from detritus, I rushed like an EMT in order to revive the fragile seedling. Of course, there was nothing wrong with it. Except, well...Let me just dig out around this area to give it a little bit more space, and ah--yeahhh, we've really got to get that pile of dead roots out of here...
 Twenty minutes later, my nails are caked with dirt, hands sliced to ribbons; I am awakened from my vegetation-induced trance to the sound of Tommy clearing his throat behind me.
"Uh....Are you ready to go yet?"
"Oh, um...Yep." [Thinking:  Jesus! I wonder how long he's been standing there.]

5.  Twitterpated.

Well, is it just me, or do people always seem...Well, hornier, when it starts to get warm out? Just checking.

6. Ice Cream Sales.

For months, Stewart's/Ben and Jerry's were seemingly barren waste lands, devoid of any dairy-sweets seeking customers for months. I could have sworn I even saw a sprinkles-covered tumbleweed roll through B&J's a while ago while riding the bus.
However, the temperature tops 45 and...BINGO! Huge line at Ben and Jerry's, Stewart's picnic tables suddenly chock full of retarded teenagers, slurping Peanut Butter Pandemonium and talking to each other about drivel in decibels that imply they're all hard of hearing. Good times.

7. Sandal and Bathing Suit Sales.

Yeah, I love sandals as much as the next (gay) guy. But bathing suits already?! WTF. Definitely not prepared for that shit yet. Give me until June to work off any potentially unsightly cottage cheese-butt, people. Not all of us are freakin' Gisele Budchen-esque in MARCH. Gawd!

Do you have a special tell-tale herald of Spring that you'd like to share? Please comment!

Meaningless Bullcrap You Will Thoroughly Enjoy

This next bit is....Well, it's simply retarded, and I love it!

We all know how much I hate hipsters. Perhaps some people would (dare) try to classify me as one. (But then again, do hipsters swear too much, emote with hyper-frequently (or at all?) or throw around mega-un-P.C. phrases such as "retarded" as if they were ticker tape at a Yankee's World Series parade? Nope, I think not. Not cool enough!

So, let's all point/laugh at hipsters and dogs, and have ourselves a grand ole' time. Thanks to Becky Nielsen for posting this on her Facebook page, so I could shamelessly steal it and re-post here, acting as if I exhumed the diamond in the rough all by myself.

WARNING: Some of the dogs you are about to see are ugly enough to cause moderate puke-in-mouth syndrome. Enjoy.

The Joy of Neighbors

Neighbors.

You either Love them or Hate them. Unfortunately, I have historically hated them. Maybe you've also had your fair share of living next to, behind, or beneath Chicken McScumbags. Let's look through a figurative album, if you will, containing mental snapshots of some cream of the crop winners I have had the grave misfortune to live in close proximity to.

1.  Crazy Old White Trash Lady.

I used to live near Albany's notorious South End, and honestly, I didn't mind living there. Most people were friendly, and on my block it was mostly just families. However, there was Crazy Old White Trash Lady. Who just so happened to live next door to myself, my boyfriend at the time, and his big brother (who's still a good friend of mine.) COWL--as we will call her from here on out--enjoyed screaming out her window to ours while upstairs, screaming up at us while she was outdoors, and waiting for social security check.  She found it necessary to constantly badger us about this particular issue, poking her head out the window and bellowing from her upstairs bedroom into our dining room, "DID YOU SEE THE MAIL COME YET?!" COWL seemed to have no fewer than fifteen "grandchildren" (who the fuck knows if they were even all related to her) living at her address. She explained to me that this was because her daughter's an incarcerated crackhead. (Paraphrasing, here....) If you bump into COWL on the street, she will never let you leave. She will fill and maintain her five square feet of lawn with plastic Santas and shit tons of jingle balls in the six months surrounding Christmas. Beware.

2. Crazy White Trash Alcoholic Dude.

It's possible that this guy was the worse of the bunch, but it's honestly hard to say. Crazy White Trash Alcoholic Dude lived below me in the ever-charming town of Cohoes, NY. He was a short, squirrly guy wearing a baseball cap, with the alcoholic tell-tale rosacea and a vendetta against for the world who-the-fuck-knows-why. CWTAD worked 10 hour days at a hard labor job, then he would come home, crank that annoying Kid Rock version of "Sweet Home Alabama" (which he would put on endless repeat) and proceed to get as wasted as humanly possible. And when I say wasted, I mean it. Wasted in the way that I could not see him and knew he was fucked beyond belief. He would start with the incessant foot tapping. Then, he would move on to the foot and hand-on-the-table combo. Which would get louder by the minute. Next, he would phone his only friend to come over. They watch football over the Kid Rock, and scream racist obscenities at the players on television. Later, if my boyfriend and I were lucky, his baby mama would come over and scream up at him from the street:

"Oh, don't give me that fucking BULLSHIT, you lying sack of shit. Don't tell me you're not fuckin that fat bitch down by the bowling alley, FUCK YOU. I see how she looks at me at the motherfucking grocery store! You fuckin' piece of shit bastard, FUCK you. I know what you're doing...Go fuck that fat piece of trash, see if I give a shit."

CWTAD would scream back at her, hanging out the window. He would say it was sad how she couldn't get over him. How it was none of her "goddamn business" if he fucked the fat chick. Often, his buddy would join in from the next window, telling the baby mama to get a life. This exchange would usually go on for about 20 minutes until someone (sometimes us) would call the cops. Shortly thereafter, Crazy White Trash Alcoholic Dude would pass out with the Kid Rock blaring all night.
On those extra special nights, I have never felt closer to committing suicide.

3. Insane Jewish Mummy Yuppie.


Holy shit. This woman was so out of hand that I would have NIGHTMARES about her regularly. Of course, I should have known I would have to share a driveway with some batty psycho from "The City" living in Woodstock. The majority of the town consists of crazy Jewish people from Manhattan. This lady was above and beyond, though. First of all, she closely resembled a mummy--bone thin (as a result of daily African and ballet dance classes.) Her skin was the color and texture of  tissue paper, peppered with liver spots. Her cheekbones could chop firewood. Insane Jewish Mummy Yuppie lived behind us, and we had to park as far to the side of the driveway as possible so she could get by. She used the shared driveway as an excuse to knock on my door and barge into my house without permission just about every single day. IJMY loved to gossip about other city transplanted Woodstockers that I didn't know at all. Frankly, I didn't fucking know anyone in that town, which turned out to be fine with me. IJMY would gesticulate wildly and holler at the top of her lungs about everything: her much-hated high school art teaching years, our surrounding neighbors, and individuals in her dance classes. At night, I would turn off the lights in my kitchen and spy on her as she painted for hours on end with a kerchief wrapped around her head. She bore a terrifyingly striking resemblance to a vampire in both mannerisms and appearance.


4. Teenage White Trash Couple with Angry Pitbull.

These inconsiderate douchemongers have been living next door to me since October or November. Before they came, living in this house was like frolicking in the garden of Eden. The neighbors were quiet, mature and chill individuals with which I could imagine myself kickin' it. Then, these 18 year olds moved and and shattered those dreams. It all started with the loud talking on their land line phone (seriously, who the fuck has a landline anymore?!) and then it progressed to beating the shit out of one another and storming out of the house dramatically. Sometimes if things get particularly heated, I like to go into the closet to hear what's going on word for word. "Don't fucking kick me!" Teenage White Trash Girl will exclaim to her male counterpart. "I fucking hate you, don't touch me!" she shrieks, slamming the door to the apartment.
Later on, white trash guy will take angry pitbull out to pee. Upon reentering, aforementioned beast will puke all over the carpet, directly in front of...My door.
Oh, and did I mention that neither one of them has a car? The dwelling has been transformed into Grand Central Station, with random cars screeching up to retrieve/drop off Teenage White Trash Couple with Angry Pitbull. Also of note: It seems that at least two or three random children show up weekly to tear shit up and bellow at the top of their lungs within the apartment of TWTCWAPB.

The icing on the cake? It appears that current TWTCWAPB neighbors have recruited another young trashy male to live in the apartment directly below us. How do I know this? Well, the first night young trashy male spent here, he got into a domestic dispute with his significant other, outside in the parking lot. Speaking of parking lot, a favorite past time of YTM includes drinking Keystone out in the shed and throwing the cans into the parking area after he imbides. He enjoys leaving signature stomp marks on the flattened receptacle after consumption.

Upon finding evidential litter of his garage boozing, I ask myself yet again: Where am I, the homeless shelter/fucking high school parking lot, OTB or a Boca Raton retirement community?
Try this on for size: "Home Sweet Home."

Nothing to Say

...But it's OK!

I am working on a clever little ditty on a theme I think everyone will be able to relate to. As this has been an on-going saga of bullshit over the course of about seven years, it's going to take quite a bit of cataloging and organizing in my brain to write a truly kick ass post. You'll see what I mean when I'm done. :o)

In the mean time, you should check out this NPR photo slide show of international breakfasts by photographer Oliver Schwarzwald. It just makes me happy. NPR always has the best photography galleries!

Weather-MANIA!

Guys, seriously...How long has it been snowing, raining, windy, etc. over the course of history? Pretty much every day, right? Well then, why does it seem that suddenly people are OBSESSED with the weather in an unhealthy way? Take this current snowstorm, for example. Everywhere I go, the ONLY thing people talk about is The Snow; how much we're going to get, how much we've already got, whether or not it will be the last storm of the season, snow days, etc.
I understand that weather can be exciting, but consider the weather channels and news. It almost seems like a whole SWAT team of weather temps have been hired, just to create Power Point presentations about the path of the storm, the severity, etc. Check out this link to see what I mean:

Weather Insanity.


First you have the normal, text report that predicts what the next 24 or 48 hours will bring in terms of weather. But it seems totally unnecessary to have a huge map with glaring yellow font (all in capital letters, naturally!) Highlighting just a few words in summary of what the nasty ol' Mother Nature is going to bring. Because, LAWD knows that we don't have time to read like, a FOUR SENTENCE weather report! We need to get that shit done in four WORDS! "TRAVEL IMPACT BEGINS; SNOW MOVES IN!" In addition, apparently it's super imperative that we also use bold in the text report, because certain words are just so important!
 
Major snowstorm...peak intensity...travel impacts will be major...road travel will become dangerous, if not locally IMPOSSIBLE!

We craft weather reports as if they were newscasts of terrorist attacks.

I can just see a group of production people huddled around a table in the News Channel 13 studio. The conversation probably goes something like this:

Supervisor: "Alright, guys, what have we got set to air for this monster storm today?"

Underling: "Well, I wrote up a couple of paragraphs describing the kind of precipitation we're getting, the amount anticipated, and the impacts it will likely have on everyday life for the next day or two. Also, I included the standard weather map with swirly colorful patterns to indicate where precipitation will be the heaviest."

Supervisor: "STANDARD WEATHER MAP?! You've got to be fucking kidding me. Guys, I want MAGIC, here! I want interactive maps, where you can click online for storm development by the HOUR! I need important words in bold! I HAVE to have 18 point font in piss yellow with slogan-esque DEVASTATION HIGHLIGHTS! This very well could be the last weather incident we witness for the rest of our LIVES!"

Underling: "...Yes, sir. Sorry, sir...I will make the necessary changes."

*Supervisor turns on his heels, takes a sip of his Starbucks Venti Espresso-ccino*(mutters while exiting scene): "Jesus, is anyone else even EXCITED about the weather around here?"

Vocabulary Enrichment Lesson

“Dick flick” (n): The male movie equivalent of “chick flick.” Opposed to a romantic comedy (the basic chick flick standard) a dick flick would consist of monster movies (without heart/a good script) or sensationalist predator/prey model movies. This could mean monster predators or werewolves, zombies, slasher-type films, etc.
This genre also includes unabashed testosterone-fueled movies having to do solely with fighting, starring ‘roid-pumped heroes with no discernible cause to fight for. Another hint that you are watching a dick flick: it could contain stereotypically hot, scantily clad female character(s) who have very few lines--all of which are self-evident observations, constantly revealing her vulnerability/inferior intellectual makeup.

Using dick flick in a sentence:

“Crank: High Voltage” was the worst dick flick I’ve ever been forced to suffer through.

The 11th Insight: Films That Suck Marmoset Scrotum

I was dealt the grave misfortune of enduring The Celestine Prophecy last night, and I felt I needed to discuss it with yous. I guess I have no one but myself to blame, as I was the one who selected the movie. Also, I was told to read the book instead, a recommendation which I blatantly flouted. And you know what I realized? There are some things in life that you should just do, instead of asking questions or pissing and moaning. One of those is to wear a hat when you're out in the cold. Another is to eat your vegetables. But, I think that reading the book before watching the film is almost always sage advice--one which so many of us choose to ignore at the peril of our mental faculties.
The Celestine Prophecy was bad. So many books that are turned into movies and just pulverized into bite-sized morsels; aka: Hollywood's idea of what is palatable to American viewers. This is insulting to me, but sometimes it can be funny, too...Really funny.
Let's discuss some of the ways that Hollywood makes awesome and completely different books into movies that all have a similar, familiar grease slick of sleaze over them.


Things That Make Me Say, "I Can No Longer Take This Film Seriously":

1. Uniformly horrific acting. I can overlook one or two crappy actors that have bit parts. I feel bad when they kind of take the story down a notch for the others, who are trying in earnest to do it justice, or at least make it believable. However, just about all the actors in The Celestine Prophecy were horrendous. It became pretty hilarious as the movie got more serious.

2. Ridiculous plot that doesn't ease us into "suspension of disbelief." I love fantasy movies and far-fetched stuff, but come ON. The story has to kind of build upon something believable (or at least be fantastically written/acted!) for me to get attached to the characters or ideas. This just didn't occur at all in the film. The main character meets with a curly haired archaeologist, whom he hasn't seem in a long time. She tells him he has to go to Peru. He isn't even close to this woman (or didn't seem to be) and yet, he's basically like, "Yeah, that's a fuckin' GREAT idea; I've been kind of meaning to do something rash and expensive since I lost my job!" Annnnnnd then he's on the next flight to South America.
It seems like bad movies often have these kinds of unjustified leaps of plot faith that I'm just not willing to take with the characters involved.

3. BAAAAD montages. Is it just me, or does every shitty movie have a goddamn montage? (Albeit, a lot of good ones do, too, but it just seems like the really bad producers just CAN'T control themselves on this aspect.) Sometimes a montage can be powerful and a great way to travel in time while not wasting movie minutes. But when the plot is murky, montages can add to the confusion for me.

4. Laugh-Til-You-Puke Sound Bytes. This movie had these in SPADES. Next time you start a movie that you suspect may be of this breed, see if you can find this indicator of stand-out quality: At some point in the first half of the film, there will be a traveling scene. This scene will open with the camera panning over a huge expanse of scenery--it could be forest, desert, mountains, you name it. There will most likely be a swell of music; bonus points if it's an instrumental. However, this aspect is CRUCIAL: If it is a fucking HORRIBLE movie, right at the end of this "Majestic Wilderness" image, an unseen bird will "CAAAAWWW!" one time.
I am guessing this is done to illustrate how untamed and wild the atmosphere is, but it just magically appears in every wilderness somehow!
To me, this is viable evidence that the director's mentally challenged brother was hired, out of pity, to do sound effects for the movie. He also may also be responsible for the totally unnecessary spider monkey screeching that tends to go on, or the sickening sound of gentle chimes whenever the main character gets together with a love interest.

When a movie is of this caliber, the crew probably just lets that guy run wild, putting in noises wherever he feels like it. Yep. Because once it comes down to the nearly finished product, the producers know it's probably too far gone to salvage.

Do you guys notice things like this in movies? Please share your thoughts!

Something to Keep You Sane

When living in the world feels sucky and I just can't take anymore sadness or seriousness, I do what I think most people do for comfort and escape...Look at pictures of cute animals.

One of my favorite blogs for this purpose is: Happy LOL Day, which can be found down below in the blogs I follow. (I'd put a link up, but it seems like I'm having trouble doing such things as of late, which is a pain in the ass!) The gal that writes this blog seems like a very nifty lady, and her beautiful posts often include photography, odes to celebrities of character, and videos of all things cute. I come here daily for a shot in the arm of happiness, whether I am just trying to start the day off right, or needing a lift after a less than savory morning. I recommend you check it out.
More fun to come in the following days!

Top Thirteen Cinematic Couples

I know, I know...Today is not Valentine's Day. But guess what? I was busy yesterday having a life. However, today I am back to my typical, and admittedly, more comfortable, mode of being anti-social and couch-bound. I couldn't resist cooking up this juicy little list for you all, whether you were saddled up with a ball-and-chain yesterday, or just riding solo. Because, let's face it--who gives a shit if you have a "significant other" on V-day? We all can (and do!) still fantasize about movie love, and how the great romantic moments in cinematic history can be just as good (or often, better!) than our own first kisses, marriage (or shag) proposals, etc. These are my top thirteen cinematic couples and love situations in movie history. Feel free to comment, add, and dispute my choices, I'm sure I've forgotten characters I will later be kicking myself over.

1. Margot and Richie Tenenbaum, The Royal Tenenbaums. Yep, I'm starting this off with some potent controversy. It's almost incest, since they were raised in the same household. But, after all, she WAS adopted. So it's not really illegal, but certainly "frowned upon." I don't know about you, but as a kid I always fantasized about my mom or dad marrying someone with a hot son(who conveniently came to live with us) that I could have a secret relationship with. The fact that these two grew up together is just icing on the cake. They ran away together as kids. He attempted suicide after hearing of her sexual escapades. They kiss in his childhood tent hideout. Yep, a top notch pairing.


2. Loretta Castorini and Ronny Cammareri, Moonstruck. This is not just one of my favorite couples of all time, but also one of my all-time favorite movies. First, Loretta is engaged to marry Ronny's brother Johnny. Then, she meets Ronny and loses her mind. This may seem like a totally cliche situation, but I assure you, it is not. Loretta is not the breed of flighty whore that you would associate with such behavior. She's a middle aged lady that has her shit together. I mean, she works at a funeral parlor, for crissakes! Oh, and did I mention that Ronny is played by a very young Nick Cage? I know...you may not imagine this to be a hot and sexy or well-acted character, but I ASSURE you, it IS. I will fight someone to the death if they say that Nick Cage can't act (with this movie as my only real evidence.) When he knocks over the table in a drunken passion, scoops Loretta off her feet and screams "Son of a bitch!" as he walks to the bed with her in his arms, I squeal like a 12 year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. If this fails to arouse or at least make you laugh/smile, it's possible that you are not human.


3. Amélie Poulain and Nino Quincampoix, Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain. This movie is just soaked in romance. The cinematography, the music, the setting! I love every bit of it. But Amelie is adorable, and the way she interacts with Nino is so innocent and sincere. Also, who can dispute the hotness that ensues when she goes on the scary ride at the Fun Fair, and a reaper costume-clad Nino whispers in her ear? HOT.

4. Magenta and Riff Raff, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Who knew alien love could be so fucking hot? Once again, we are rocking the incest, here: these two admit to being siblings more than once in the film. Maybe I'm into that kind of thing? Jesus...I better get myself to a shrink... Anyhow. They have a special secret handshake that is exclusive to the two of them, which I find awesome, basically. I think that should be a prerequisite for all couples! Also, they have kickass space style, rockin' sets of pipes, and killer dance moves. I'd say these are the two most fashionable alien lovers EVER.

5. Dawn Campbell and Tommy Corn, I Heart Huckabees. She starts out with a total toolbag named Brad, known in reality as Jude Law (or Dude Law, as I like to call him.) She has a mental breakdown as a result of the existential detectives and decides that she no longer wants to be a sex symbol. Then she dresses in overalls and a bonnet and almost dies in a fire. Except for the fact that Tommy is a firefighter (HOT!) and ends up finding her in the burning building (DOUBLE HOT!) Their connection is a love-at-first encounter kind of deal. They are totally comfortable with each other and can handle one another's "Infinite nature." Amazing.

6. Lotte Schwartz, Maxine Lund, and Craig Schwartz, Being John Malkovich. Yeah, this is twisted. Craig and Lotte are married, but they both fall in love with Maxine. The passion they both have for Maxine--which they act out through Malkovich's body--is compelling. The rivalry between the former husband and wife team over this woman is life-long, changing them both forever. And, well, it makes for an awesome movie, showing how far people will go to have the one they love in extreme circumstances.

7.Charlie Kaufman and Donald Kaufman, Adaptation. Two things to start out: first, let's just establish that Charlie Kaufman, the writer, is THE MAN. Secondly, I am using this movie as further evidence of Nicholas Cage's awesomeness. The man plays twins. Two people! And he does it AMAZINGLY. I know that the relationship between these two brothers isn't romantic, but it doesn't matter. The journey that their relationship makes, from a one-sided appreciation to full-circle actualization and intense love really shakes me up inside. Donald is the living and breathing embodiment of his essential line in this film: "You are what you love, not what loves you." Charlie realizes his brother's emotional majesty and superhuman depth right before it is too late...Ground-breaking.

8. Sam Wheat and Molly Jensen, Ghost. Yeah, it's not as profound as the last one, but come on! Who hasn't seen this and cried like an infant? There are definitely cheesy parts (like, uh...the majority of the film) but the fact that Sam won't leave Molly behind, trying to communicate his love and protect her postmortem, is just heartbreaking. The P-Swayze had a good thing going in this film, and he will be greatly missed.

9.Forest Gump and Jenny Curran, Forest Gump. This was a toughie, because I considered putting "Forest and Bubba" instead of Forest and Jenny. The mutual love between the two aforementioned soldier friends was definitely heart-wrenching and genuine. However, Forest's love for Jenny basically propelled him through the entire film. Everywhere he went, he thought about her. Whatever he did, she was there with him. He often ended up at historical events without even realizing it, in part because he was always looking for her (and also because he was semi-tarded.) Considering how much Forest loves Jenny, he really only gets to be with her in the physically sense, for a small portion of his life. But the way his love is reflected in everything he does, says and thinks throughout the movie makes it a great and notable love.

10. Aragorn and Arwen, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Inter-species love...YES! This couple is too good to be true. A strapping human dude with larger than life hero skills, and an ethereal, gentle elfin goddess. Their children would be too beautiful to even look at straight on. Arwen forsakes immortal life for the possibility of spending her life with Aragorn if the battle between good and evil doesn't kill them all. If that's not romantic, well heck...I don't know what is!

11. Milo and Otis, The Adventures of Milo and Otis. Flouting eons of historically bad canine-feline relations to go on adorable adventures together. This is good shit, people.



12. Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, Romeo and Juliet. This has always been one of Shakespeare's most loved works, but I'm going to go with, specifically, the Baz Luhrmann version. It's a visual feast with an out of this world soundtrack, and Leonardo DiCaprio was at his hotness peak, in my opinion. Claire Dane's expressive face combined with her restrained interpretation of Shakesperian dialogue was pretty inspired. However, this is not what I was thinking as a 12 year old, when I saw this film with my cousin as my first sans grown-ups movie theater experience. I was just thinking about how steamin' Leo and Claire were together during the underwater kissing scenes, and how fucked up it was when they both kicked the bucket. An edgy, culturally relevant portrayal of a historically sizzlin' love.

13. Butch Coolidge and Fabienne, Pulp Fiction. You've probably guessed by now that this list isn't in any particular order of importance, because if it was, these two would be near the top. There are a lot of memorable couplings in Pulp Fiction, but I like this one best. Their dynamic is truly hilarious and heartwarming. He's a tough (and disgustingly hot) boxer who turns into a pet-name slinging mush ball at the sight of her. She's an adorably opinionated French gal who looks like a middle school boy. Yet, their relationship is surprisingly normal and refreshing. Tarantino-style magic.

RE: Groundhog.

That damn groundhog is about as reliable as Albany TV weatherman Steve Caporizzo. (No offense if you're reading this, Steve.)
What a job for a rodent (The Groundhog, not Steve.) First of all that creature presumably eats for 11 months straight (have you seen it? as Fucillo would say; it's HUGE!) Then, it lumbers out of its comfy little burrow one lousy day per year, sees its damn shadow, scratches its ass and walks back down to bed. Lucky little turd; sleeping for ANOTHER 6 WEEKS while the rest of us endure the frigid temps. Because, well--some of us don't have the luxury of HIBERNATING when the going gets tough. I suspect that little rat bastard is living off of Daddy's trust fund, because some of us actually have to make a living up here above ground.
Oh, and by the way--Can anyone else recall a time that obese douche bag ever predicted spring would come EARLY? Maybe if he lost like, ten pounds, he would have less of a shadow and we'd be getting down to some Spring-dingin' around here. But then again, anyone who's lived in the Northeast for a consecutive twelve months knows that when Spring comes, it has never been, nor will it EVER be as early as February 2nd. Push that shit up a couple months there, big boy. Puxsutawney's annual debut should be more of an April Fool's-Type Deal. You guys know what I'm saying?

P.S. I vote that Steve Caporizzo's Facebook "doppelganger" should be Senator John Kerry. Discuss.

The Subtle Pleasures of Del Lanes

Some people like to dress like tranny hookers, get liquored up and go out to clubs. Others like to put on their Friday Finest and go listen to a little jazz at swanky bars. Me? I like to slither into a pair of skanky jeans, throw my hair into a ponytail (more so to keep my grease-riddled hands off than for looks) and go bowlin'. Yep, you heard me--BOWLIN'.

If you are skeptical, let me extol on the wonders of the sport. Here's a hint: not even a little of the appeal has to do with the fact that I am a skilled player. In fact, I fucking SUCK at bowling. 84 for a two-game best, anyone? It's more my love of the ambiance, the sheer non-prissiness of the game, and the fact that, as a true descendant of the Hebrew Peoples, I am seriously cheap.

I don't know about your town, but mine has a little thing we like to call "Dollar Game Nights." Now, this is tricky--it doesn't mean that you can party all night for a buck. Nope--I learned this the hard way. Only on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9-12, each game is a dollar. PER PERSON. (The pin jockey at the counter explained this to me at the end of the night, with a smug little piece of shit tucked under his mustache.) Factor in a dollar per pair of shoes,too, but who's counting, really? For my money, Two or three dollars doesn't get better than John Cougar Mellencamp on a pull-down projector screen, fat bald guys fist pumping, and the smell of nacho cheese mashed into carpeting. Make that $6 if you through a Coors Light into the mix.

After you get your snazzy shoes (which invariably fit like you're 4 years old and toddling around in Dad's work boots) you get to select a ball. Decisions, decisions: Hot pink swirled or midnight blue sparkles? Or how 'bout that one with just two finger holes that's labeled "Ron"?
No one ever said this was going to be Simple.

Once I select a ball, I hop on the lane and start playing--But not without scoping out my neighbors' skillz prior to making any moves. I glance over to the electronic scoreboard above lane 19 to check out the competition: "Tammi" and "J.R". Snickering, I sashay up to the lane and execute my first frame, resulting in a highly expert gutter ball. I frown and scurry back to my seat. Then, J.R. takes his turn next door. (He later explains that it's common lane courtesy to take your turn after the person next to you is finished, so no one is distracted. You sure do learn something every day!)
J.R. steps up to the lane in his Faded Glory jeans and white Marlboro t-shirt, licking his lips in concentration and smoothing his baseball cap. He pulls back his right arm, and in a fluid motion, pivots forward, releasing the ball down the lane and crossing his leg behind him. The ball flies straight down the polished runway, spinning into the pins and resulting in a "CRACK!" so rich and resonant that it could be a stock sound clip labeled; "bowling strike."
J.R. turns around, offers Tammi a modest grin, and takes a seat at the score table.

I sheepishly approach the ball return and bowl a frame that earns me one pin down for my efforts.
Meanwhile, Tommy is asking J.R. for bowling tips. "How do you get the ball to spin like that?" he asks in thinly masked awe. Seated in my nest of shame, I rock out to "The Boys are Back in Town" by Thin Lizzy in a pitifully controlled manner, bobbing my head and swaying a little bit. It's ridiculous. One really can't jam to 70's glam rock in any way other than reckless abandon.

To my left and right, guys like J.R. and Earl are racking up the points, each one doing the graceful bowling tango that results in a leg poised behind another after the ball is released. These guys are bowling 240, 285, and scowl at the lane when less than 10 pins fall. I have, thus far, bowled a 72. There's nothing like the sight of bowling league champions in the zone, excelling to eerily biographical "Blue Collar Man," by Styx. I am truly humbled.

Honestly, where else are you going to go on a Thursday that will allow you to stay out all night, drink some decent beers (they have Blue Moon!) hear some sweet tunes and enjoy yourself thoroughly for less than $10? Fucking Del Lanes, dude.

See you this Tuesday at 9.

No Conceivable Title

I was perusing recipes today at NPR.com and came across this random passage while reading about recipes using booze:

"Alcohol and water have an affinity for each other and form what's called an azeotropic mixture, which means the water is hesitant to let go of the alcohol, even though the alcohol wants to become steam."

I don't know why, but this struck me as strange. Alcohol dehydrates people. Water does the exact opposite. Why do opposites attract, and do they, really, in all cases? HEY! Is this really about chemistry, or is it about human relationships?! Hmmm...

Nevertheless, I think I will have to try out the Grilled Chicken Marinated in Tequila, as well as the Pork Medallions in Calvados and Apple Cream Sauce. I'll let you know how it goes when I do.

Famous Literary Drunks and Addicts..YESSSAH!

I know I've already touted the goodness of Life Magazine's photo archive site, but this is too good not to share:



A collection of "Famous Literary Drunks and Addicts." It just never ceases to amaze me that this venerable photography force consistently posts such a wide range of picture collections. You can find anything from very important historic shoots of events like world wars and presidential assassinations to pop culture stuff such as fashions from the 2010 Golden Globe Awards. I regularly indulge in all of these and more. If you haven't already signed up for the weekly email with featured selections, I implore you to do so!

P.S. You may want to click on the link at the top of the photo, because the captions are more than half the goodness. They tell you what each author was addicted to, maybe a fitting quote, and a little blurb about his/her life.

Skillz

I saw the movie Fish Tank last night, and it was pretty decent. I like British movies a lot, so perhaps I was a bit biased. However, I have to say that the main character's dance moves were pretty weak, and she was supposedly an aspiring hip hop dancer. This three year old kid's skillz and 'tude would put that chick to shame:

Three year-old Chinese hip-hop star | CNNGo.com


Check it out and see what I mean.

Oop! Apparently the Chinese are a little bit behind in kicking ass with the video-in-post technology, so you're going to have to take this third world link and cut and paste, old school style. Sowwy!


Probable post to follow: The Raw Beauty that is Del Lanes.

Meditations on Mass Media Consumption

I watched Amelie again tonight after discussing it with a respected consort this past week, which brought me to this conclusion:

I used to think that the relationships people built upon things such as books, movies and musical taste were very shallow. I thought that a shared affinity for media and cultural consumption-related items did not truly expose that which gave any real sign as to who a person was as an individual. I thought that it was impossible to honestly know--let alone to care about—someone on this narrow basis alone.
Now I feel, although one cannot entirely know someone solely by these preferences, it is a more valid way to begin to forge a bond with others than I originally gave it credit for.
Lying within our favorite books, the movies we watch time after time, songs that we can’t bear to take out of rotation; is proof that we feel profoundly. The love we have for these things is an emotionally conscious reaction to a depiction of existence seen through another human being (whomever created the movie, book, etc.)
Furthermore, in becoming aware that others feel moved by the same creations as us, we are sharing our humanity. A great film makes us cry because it reflects something that we have all felt. We are now seeing it with new eyes (those of the director and writers) but we still experience it with the same heart. In the same vein, a certain passage from our favorite author sticks with us as a guiding light, because it helps us find refuge from, or make sense out of, the confusion of living.
We identify that these artistic works (no matter how trivial or silly some of them may seem) can reach anyone, because they all spring from finding meaning in being human. The human experience (in many a shape-shifting form) is, extraordinarily, shared by every single one of us, and is therefore always worth bonding over.

This May be the Best Thing I've Ever Seen in My Life

I could write a long-winded post about the fat lady who sat next to me on the bus to New York, but I think I'll save that for a later date.

I find "Old Greg" is a more pressing priority at the moment.



If you stop watching this halfway through because you have the attention span of a toddler with Down Syndrome, I seriously suggest you give yourself a lobotomy. I think the last couple of minutes may be the best part of the whole video. Pour yourself a heaping mug of Baileys, get comfy and ENJOY!

Sunday at the Gym

I am at the treadmill on the gym
And to my right there
Is a middle-aged man juggling
Four red balls. He is in a tee shirt, shorts and sneakers
I wonder if he considers this
Exercise or maybe he decided
The gym's a place to exercise his mind as well as body.
They say that crossword puzzles keep your mind
Fit and I can see how
Juggling would help with hand-eye coordination.

On the TV is a bowling tournament.
A man who looks like he’s destined to win throws his ball down
The polished lane effortlessly, with a glove on the hand that throws.
He bowls a strike, turns around, pounding the air with his fist, and takes a seat
in front of a chubby blonde who was probably once considered
Good looking by champion bowlers.
The man who’s destined to win is wearing Terminator-style sunglasses
He never removes, and a small, but healthy mustache (conceit
Curls up at the sides) when his name is spoken his satisfaction
Does not fade for a long time.

I am now on a machine that foils flabby stomachs and there is
An ancient lady rowing in front of me. She is only about as high as
Carnival signs that say, “Must be this tall to ride.”
Her hair is white as winter frost that snakes across windy roads at night.
She wears a sweatband around her head and a very large tee shirt
That accentuates her smallness. The ancient lady does five movements
With the machine and moves on. She does not wipe off the seat.
At some spots she sits down, only to back get up and walk away.
I note that most senior citizens love coming to the gym to socialize.
It is where they go after seven o’clock breakfast at McDonald’s.

Avatar

Alright, guys, I'm sorry to take a bit of a departure from the usually humorous tone of this blog, but there's some stuff I really have to say, here. I will try to put some comic relief in every so often in case you feel your eyes might bleed from reading such a long-winded rant.

So, Tommy and I went to see Avatar last night, after hearing much hype about it. Some people I respect said that they really liked it (namely my grandparents, some aunts, and a couple of friends) so I figured it had to be at least OK. Definitely worth going to, since we had a free movie pass.

The theater was packed, just about to capacity. And we didn't even get into the 3-D IMAX showing. Those were all sold out. We just saw the plain ol' regular movie.

The first half of the film I really liked, except for the cheesy one-liners coming from all of the military guys (including and especially the main character.) Dumb ass phrases like, "Git 'r' Done!" said without any hint of humor or irony by all of the military "bad guys." I was disappointed at the outset by how one dimensional the military guys were. They seemed to have no problem going to this planet and just destroying it, which seems ridiculous to me. I think that quality "bad guys" have to be multidimensional, or hell--at least original--in order to be believable. It's kind of insulting that the U.S. military faction had to be depicted as so stereotypically cold-hearted and unintelligent. Frankly, if I was in the military myself, I'd be kind of offended at the portrayal of how their missions are conducted.

The second half of the movie particularly infuriated me. It's definitely possible I could be taking it too much to heart, but did anyone else notice a shit-ton of 9/11, Iraqi/Muslim, "tree-hugging" Democrats/"slash and burn war hawk" Republican references? I feel that the narrative got intensely political at the end, and I don't know if it's because politics are so deeply embedded in our national consciousness, or because the media is trying to propagandize through feature films now. The images and dialogue that alluded to these things were rampant.
Just as a quick recap; the bombing and burning of "Home Tree" could definitely parallel 9/11 and the falling of the Twin Towers. I didn't even notice this until Tommy pointed out how similar the (now archetypal)images seemed with the wounded Navi People walking among falling ash and burning debris. Also, there was a mention by one of the main characters of "fighting terror with terror," which seemed as if someone poured an obvious cup of bullshit buzzwords into the script. Oh, and did anyone notice how the Navi all fall before the ancestral tree and start singing and kind of, well...praying? I don't know, it looked a lot like devout Muslims praying to Mecca to me.

At face value I can see why people thought Avatar was a cool movie. I also really enjoyed the scenery and graphics, I thought the tribal customs were neat, and the idea of transferring one's nervous system/brain responses into a different body is awesome! But I just can't escape how it makes me feel when I notice totally unnecessary, biased "real life" parallels spun to make some sort of a simplified point to get people pumped up. I feel like this movie had an agenda that wasn't primarily to entertain and wow us, which is typical, and makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Either way, I would love it if you guys would go see this movie and report back about how you felt, even if you totally disagree with me. I want to see the film in a different way if possible, so let me know your thoughts.