The Guessing Game

You ever have a conversation with somebody revolving around some small little pop culture minutia and then all the sudden they make some reference to an actor, only they don't remember the exact actor, but he only had a lead part, like once, and he played a detective, he thinks, and the name of the movie had maybe, two letters in it, they think, and that guy was also in another movie was about some like, I don't know, court case or something, with some blond headed lady, they think? So then you spend the next fifteen minutes trying to guess who they were talking about, trying to pinpoint they movie they were in with that actress who did that one thing that one time, but was also in this movie, about some court case or something*? And then you spend another fifteen minutes on Imdb just trying to figure out what the hell they were just talking about, and another five minutes on top of that trying to figure out if they knew what they were talking about?

Yeah, that's annoying. Listen sometimes it can't be avoided. There's odd little pop culture detritus stuck in all of our brains and we might not quite remember what said piece of detritus once belonged to, and sometimes we need help figuring that out. Or maybe we're a bit forgetful and we just can't seem to recall these sort of things. I get that, but there are limits people. LIMITS. Don't go asking tons of pop culture questions I don't have the answers for because I will HAVE to find those answers because I didn't have the answer from the getgo so now your question has become my question and I MUST SOLVE IT or it will bug me all day. ALL DAY.

So do me a favor, mmmkay? Next time we have a conversation about movies or actors or whatever the hell, either come up with something concrete, or go answer your own questions on Imdb first, and then we can talk about the movie or actor in question ad nauseum. But don't expect me to do the ground work for you (although I probably will because I'm a completist that way) because if you don't know how wonderfully the Imdb actor search and the Google Image Search work in unison, you're a hopeless case and we shouldn't be friends.

*The answers to the above pop culture cunundrum were, in order Peter Coyote, E.T., Glenn Close, 101 Dalmations and The Jagged Edge. Got all that? Understand my annoyance now?

Love You Xanthia

My best friend in the whole wide world since, well the Clinton administration and also a contributor to this website, Xanthia, is having a down week. She just lost her grandmother a few days and could use some solice and support right now.

So this is me, sending you a virtual hug right now. Call me if you need me. I'm always here for you. Except when I leave my cellphone in my purse and you can't get ahold of me when you really need me. That makes me a only sorta good friend.

I've got a shoulder and it's been thoroughly prepared for a good lean and a good cry if you need it.

The Bloody Munchkin.

Shortest, Most Absurd E-mail Ever

"Go with Dick."

Actual e-mail I recieved today. I... yeah. So many jokes, so little time.

Michael Cudlitz Needs More Work

O.k., so I occasionly post stuff about celebrities who have regrettable careers. I realize I haven't done so in awhile and I haven't done much in the way of posts period in the past couple of months, and unfortunately, thanks to my full workload and the addition of taking a class this fall, the amount of posts are going to be more sparse, but that's besides the point. The point is that for every actor with a regrettable career, there is a deserving actor who needs more work, who deserves the sort of media saturation that the actor with the regrettable career is or has recieved.

For every Rob Schnieder there is a David Krumholtz, or something like that. For every time I bag on some poor bastard who decided to be involved in another regrettable National Lampoon's movie, I'd like to lift someone else up, some one deserving, someone like.... Michael Cudlitz. I know exactly what you're going to say. You're going to say "Bloody Munchkin, the dude is currently in a TV series. With Ron Livingston even. I'm sure he's doing fine for himself." To which I have to say "But how are we, as a collective society doing? How are we doing REALLY? Because, as a collective unit, I think we could really use more Micheal Cudlitz." And I truly do believe that. More Micheal Cudlitz in all his forms. Swat Team Michael, Car Salesman Michael, Zombie High Schooler Michael, Sleeping with High School Girls Group Leader Michael, World War II Michael. Michael, in all of his reincarnations, is needed in order for us, as a nation to become stronger and more self assured.

Maybe the arguement is that he really doesn't need more work. I mean, I am looking at the same IMDb profile as you are. Just one look at his c.v. proves that he's doing his part to be everything to everyone. I mean, have you looked at it? It's a rap sheet as long as my arm. Dude is doing his part to be ubiquitous is what I'm saying. But are we doing our part to take notice? Are we really? I mean, I know I'm not. Half the stuff he's been in I haven't seen, and he deserves more than that from me. He's Michael Cudlitz for Christ Sake. Is his supporting role in Stand Off going to suffice for me week after week, now that I know the width and breadth of his back catalog? I don't know, but it's a start. Do your part to make sure Michael Cudlitz gets the recognition he deserves.

An Open Letter to Chuck Norris after his Sidekicks Screening

Dear Chuck Norris;

I think it's great that you're trying to breath some life into your dieing film career by trying to do something other than the really bad fitness infomercials with Christy Brinkley. Really I do. As long as it's not Walker Texas Octagenarian I'm all over it. And I think it's really great that you're doing projects for your charity. Really, it's awesome. Truly.

It's just... I just don't think that screening Sidekicks is the way to do that see? I can't even watch that movie ironically anymore (R.I.P. Jonathon Brandis *Sniff*). Not that everyone has the same emotional attachment as me, but still, out of all the movies you've done, you picked Sidekicks to screen? Sidekicks? Really? Because not only has that movie gone from awesome, to awesomely cheesy, to awesomely lame, to lame and then to sad (See: Jonathon Brandis *Sniff*) in the course of it's life, but I honestly think that now, in this day and age, a shirtless Piscapo can do more harm than good, even if it is for charity.

So please, keep this one in the closet where it belongs, I don't care if Beau Bridges needs the Royalties or not.

BM

Various Open Letters to People, Place and Things on my birthday

Dear Birthday Cookies;

Oh Birthday Cookies, how I love you. How you have brightened up my weekend. I've thanked my parents for dutifully making the awesome sugar and icing cookies that have delighted me for much of my childhood, but I don't think I've sufficiently thanked you, oh sugar cookies of awesomeness. You are splendid and awesome and everytime my mother makes me a batch, birthday related or no, there is always much quibbling between Fighting Nun and myself, about who has eaten the most and who deserves to eat the most. Oh sugar cookies, you are such a source of glee, and also such a source of marital discord.

Loves and Kisses;

The Bloody Munchkin

To the awesomely strange bar and all its patrons on First Street in Livermore;

The night before my birthday was pretty awesome. It's been awhile since I've had a really good rando conversation with people at a bar. Thanks for the interesting conversation, in which I found out that there are two Ocean Cities. One in NJ, one in Delaware, and that according to you, dear bar patron I'm sitting next to, are quite particular about your home town. Also, thanks for making us feel like regulars, even though we're not.

See ya for another pint some time soon;

The Bloody Munchkin

To the pottery place close to where our car was parked;

Not that I don't mind that you have a poster displaying a cat and a bunny in a rather compromising position. Actually, I'm very much the opposite of mind. I'm more amused than anything. But do you really think that a poster that could evoke such crude jokes from Fighting Nun and I is really appropriate for the pre-teen set? Maybe you want to evoke conversation about inter-species doggy style positions amongst the youngsters. Maybe you enjoy a subtle but not so subtle Broke-Back Mountain joke as much as the next person, but I don't know that your store front is the best place for such a statement.

Thanks for the tears of Mirth;

Bloody

To the strange wine dude at Winery Numero Uno;

Tone down the stange and needy. Please I'm begging you. I know we were your first patrons and all, and maybe you were a little rusty with things like, oh I don't know, conversation and customer interaction, but I'm telling you. Un! Comfortable! And I do not want to play the tasting game with my wine. No seriously. Stop asking "Can you taste the spices in this wine?" "Do you pick up the hint of plum?" Are these your only talking points regarding the wine you're selling, cause if they are, you might wanna work on your approach.

Please turn down the wierd;

The Bloody Munchkin

Dear the person who gave me a facial at the spa place;

It was a very enjoyable session but the thing is... Well you see.. It's just... You remind me of my cousin on the black sheep side of the family, and I really couldn't get over that fact the whole time. I hope you're not offended.

Sorry for the bad association;

The Bloody Munchkin

To the two cute girls working the counter at Winery Numero Dos;

To the girl with the little army cap on, thanks for not wearing a bra. Fighting Nun really enjoyed that. To the other girl, I am really envious of your hair. Like sincerely envious. If I could pull of that look I would. To both of you, thanks for the great conversation and being super cool and wishing me a happy birthday. Also, thanks for the awesome cheese and crackers.

Keep up the Cuteness;

The Bloody Munchkin

P.S. To the cute one with the cute hair, stop obsessing about the ex and his phone number. You're better than Zach. Don't ask me how I know. I can just tell.

To the Cafe where we had a super awesome lunch;

I have never had a stew that good before in my life. Delish I tell you. Delish. Although, it is partially to be blamed, I think, for my stunning pyrotechnics later in the day, it was still well worth it. And so was the prociutto. And so was, God help me, the olives. And I hate olives! But then you put them on an antipasto plate, depitted and with some bread and some cheese, and they are suddenly good. Which is bizarre.

You keep making that stew and I'll come back and eat it anytime;

BM

P.S. Please tone down the "audio scarecrow" noises that emenated from the adjoining vineyards. Not that I don't enjoy hearing the crow equivalant of the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex versus the Velocarapters scene played out in grapevines in routine intervals every other minute, but it was just a bit odd. At first I thought it was the bird version of a death rattle, but then it was the same thing over and over, and I was afraid that someone was pummeling some bird who couldn't fly in the grapevines, which made me somewhat mortified. Thankfully, it was just an "audio scarecrow", but still. Yeesh. Not an appetizing sound is all.

To Winery Numero Tres;

Sorry about your welcome mat. And your rose bush. I... yeah, just sorry.

BM

To the woman sitting next to us during dinner;

Did I ask you what you were eating? Or drinking? Or about anything else? Then why did you insist for a play by play about our dinner? Yes it was nice. No we couldn't finish it. Sorry if that OFFENDS you and your completist sensibilities. Sorry if us ordering dessert also offended. Oh wait, no I'm not, because it's MY FREAKING BIRTHDAY and I can eat or not eat as much as I FREAKING WANT and I shouldn't have to justify my culinary choices to you, Mrs. Nosy McNosersons, just because you're sitting next to me. Why don't you try minding your own dinner next time.

BM

Prison Break!!!

Holy Crap you guys!!! Prison Break's back on!!! And it's goooood. I'll leave the recapping to Television Without Pity, but I'm telling you, right now, Awesome Episode. Dude. Veronica. Just Dude. Not that it surprised me, what with her particular breed of stupid and all. But Daaaamn! Cold. Blooded.

Also, Scofield looks good in a suit.

Also, also! William Fichtner!!! I think I've sufficiently explained how awesome he is. And his character is exactly what this show needed. But I have to ask, why oh why, is he credited as Bill Fichtner? Because that threw me off for a split second. I'm like "Who is this Bill Fichtner dude?" and then I saw him and went all squeey for a second and then I was all "Bill? You sir are a William. Be Proud! Embrace the William!"

Also, also, also! The Doctor! And the Nurse!! I love those two!

Yeah!!! Prison Break is back!!! I know Fighting Nun isn't thrilled, but I sure am!!!

Little League World Series

There's something odd about going to a bar with like a bazillion televisions in it to watch baseball. Because you never just watch baseball. The other tv screens also compel you to watch them. They are vieing for your attention just as much as the baseball game you came to watch. Because the baseball game your watching? Not so compelling really.

So you watch a bit of this and a bit of that that happens to be on the other tvs. And what happens to be on? The Little League World Series. You don't want to get into it. You feel bad for the eleven and twelve year-olds that have sacraficed their whole summers and God knows what else to be participating in this series. There's a whole slew of reasons you shouldn't be watching, from the afore mentioned giving up of the summers, but also about how you feel about sports kids moms and and dads, and coaches and how over-involved they get about winning and everything. But yet your sucked into it. You start feeling bad for the Louisiana team that lost 6 -1. Louisiana's been through enough yo.

You get into the narrative of the game.You then start watching the series between The Great Lakes and the Mid-Atlantic, and three words were uttered that would keep you hooked in on the game: "The Cardiac Kids". That's the Mid-Atlantic team's nickname. The Cardiac Kids. There's an underdog team? Reason enough to keep watchin in intrigue. Two more words were uttered. Spark Plug. Did you see this kid? Because awesome! Really awesome! But you should've really stopped watching. Why? Because sometimes Little League Baseball can be a train wreck.

First off, take an eleven-year-old kid whose still growing into his body and has tons of issues to deal with, mentally and physically and then give that kid a glove and ask him to master a fastball and a breaking ball? Control's going to be an issue. A huge issue actually. An issue with some scary results. Kid get beaned in the head issue. That helmet FLEW off his head kind of issue. You're watching this behind your hands, cringing. And then they do that shot of the parents, with tears in their eyes and the kid still hasn't moved off the ground and you're just waiting, scared out of your wits that something BAD has happened to this poor kid. And you're still watching.

And you're watching when that kid slides into home, and the catcher does not move but what does move is the kid's ankle. It moves in odd angles, in bad angles. And it isn't pretty. And there's crying. And kids at that age crying in pain? Makes you wanna cry.

But you keep watching. Why? Because Cute. Because seeing a kid with head that doesn't quite fit his body wearing a helmet that is five times too big for his head? Geeenius. Because you finally realize where awesome baseball player nicknames start, case in point: Spark Plug. Because despite probably having the weight of the world put on these kids shoulders, you see that they really love the game, that unlike the pros, this is still a game to them to some extent, and its fun. It's work, you can tell it, but it's still a game to them and they play it with heart. And when the game is over the winning team is all smiles and the losing team is all tears, but their sportsman-like about it. They shake hands. They "good game" each other. They leave it all out on the field. They make you remember why you really love the game in the first place, especially when your team just lost a series against their ARCH-ENEMY 2-1! But that's besides the point. Little League Baseball rules!!!

Flood takes out part of Hatch, NM

Don't worry Fighting Nun. It sounds like the chilis made it out fine. Whew. For a second there, I thought Christmas was ruined.

Master of the Flying Guillotine

Why didn't somebody tell me about this movie!!! Once again, the mighty internet proves it is not omnipotent because it did not clue me into the awesomeness of this movie. I didn't get to see the whole thing last night, but what I did see? Totally Awesome! I mean absurdly awesome. Like "No way did that just happen!" Awesome. Like I totally have to see it again Awesome!

I mostly have to see it again because I kept only seeing bits and pieces. I kept running errands and then Xanthia called and there were all these distractions that kept me from the awesomeness, which is sad really because, did I say Awesome already? And then Fighting Nun would tell me about the awesomeness of the parts I missed, which went something like this.

Fighting Nun: You missed it.
Bloody Munchkin: What?
FN: So the blind dude came in the guillotine hat thing and rolled some heads.
BM: He did? Was it bloody?
FN: Oh yeah.
BM: Rewind! Rewind. I wanna see.
FN: Uhm. I can't I turned it to the game.
BM: YOU TURNED IT TO THE GAME? When there was awesome bloody beheading involving a guillotine HAT THING? How could you? HOW COULD YOU? (I think I get over invested in Kung Fu movies really)

This same scene played itself out a couple of more times:

BM: So what happened with the guys on the poles?
FN: Oh it was awesome. The one guy did this move and then the other guy did this other move and then the one guy got impaled on the swords below the sticks.
BM: He did? I wanna see!
FN: Uhm. You can't. I change...
BM: The channel. You bastard.
FN: I'm sorry.
BM: *sigh* It's o.k. *under breathe* making me miss awesome impalings. Damn You.

And again:

BM: So why is the blind guy with the awesome mustache after the one armed dude who is actually two-armed but is trying to act like he's one armed?
FN: It was all explained in a flash back that you missed.
BM: I missed a flashback?

A few moments later:

BM: Is this a flashback?
FN: No. You'll know that their flashbacks cause their filmed all in red.
BM: I missed red flashbacks. Man I missed all the good stuff.
FN: Yes. Yes you did. Sorry.

So now I'm dieing to see the movie in all its entirety, not just because of wanting to watch the scenes I miss but also to revel in the several things that I did see, which are:

1. The awesome tournament fighting scenes involving a wide array of colorful characters. I'm watching this whole tournament thing going: "Aw, that's where Dragon Ball Z got it from. Damn!" I especially like watching the fight scene with the other one armed guy because it on frame you can actually see the arm he was trying to hide. Which is absurdly awesome drinking game material.
2. The Camera Angles of Drunkeness - I haven't seen that much camera careening since the last season of the Amazing Race! 'Nuf Said.
3. The Awesome Foley Team - The Foley team for this movie worked its ASS off. Man. There were sound effects for moves punches and kicks that didn't even hit anything. And every sound had a cumulutive effect just short of making your ears bleed.
4. The great overdub we've all come to know and love. I don't think much needs to be said about that.
5. The firehouse scene. I don't want to give too much away, but that's some coldhearted shit to do to mothafucka is all I'm gonna say. Cause really.
6. The one armed protagonist. Different from the one armed guy in the tournament scene, all sorts of cheesy wonderous glory.
7. The coffin shop scene. Again, don't wanna give too much away, but I must say I'm amazed that the whole axe-spring-loading coffin lids thing is soo ingeneous I'm amazed it hasn't been raped and pillaged by some hollywood hacks ad nauseum. I'm glad it hasn't though, that way this movie isn't diminished in any way.
8. The badass blind guy with the mustache of glory and the hat-guillotine thing to match. I have to ask what the swastika symbol on his robe was about? Because What? I mean this film was filmed in 1975, and yet it was still part of his wardrobe. It would confound and kind of depress me if I stopped to think about it, but thankfully this movie didn't give me time to ponder the costume choice because I was too busy paying attention to his eyebrows and his nose twitching.

So. Uhm that's all I got, until I see the movie again. Because. SOOOOO Awesome. And this time I'll be damned if Fighting Nun changes the channel!!!

Before Sunrise

Will somebody please give me Richard Linklater's number so I can call him and gush about how much I love Before Sunrise and Before Sunset and how generally awesome he is? Because he's awesome. And these movies are awesome, as are most of his movies. And Fighting Nun is awesome for actually liking them (although it took some coaxing just to wath them, didn't it, Mr. "I don't think it sounds very good."-pants, Huh?)

So, flashback to ten years ago. I'm 17, which *shudder*. My mom rents Before Sunrise, I think partially because I had a big ole honking crush on Ethan Hawke. This movie had me entranced, not because it was romance movie, because I don't think it's a romance, not at its core, I think it's a deeply affecting character study, but of course I was seventeen, so I was convinced it was a romance of sorts, but about a year before that I was convinced I was gonna marry Elden Hensen, so so much for that. But the reason I loved that movie is because it felt real. It didn't feel layered with schmoopy sentiment, it wasn't over the top with the charm. It felt comfortable, lived in, beautiful and simple. I was at that impressionable age right before I went to college, filled with all this grandeous ideas of literature and philosophy, and sitting in coffe shops and having interesting conversations with people, and what college was supposed to mean. And oddly enough, this movie made all those ideas feel attainable.

Cut to ten years later, or more to the point, February. I have had Before Sunset tivoed for like months, because Damn It! I'm going to talk Fighting Nun into it if it kills me. Fighting Nun is left to his own devices for a week and decides to watch Before Sunset. He's utterly convinced he's going to hate it. His expectations are loooow. Like trying to find any enjoyment out of Kevin Federline's rapping career loooow. But, surprise! He likes it. (Cue Chunk Voice "I told you. I always tell you guys but you never believe me.") Ahem. So later on I watch it and, no surprise, I absolutely love it.

And then Fighting Nun delivers the sweetest, oddest, most perfect compliment ever. He says Celine reminds him of me. It's perfect because ten years before, as that idealistic seventeen-year-old, I empathized with Celine. I think part of me wished I was her, having these amazingly intellectual conversations and yet she was so obviously vulnerable. She refused to hide her insecurities. She displayed some of them for all the world and for Jesse to see and I'm not sure I appreciated it then, but I appreciate that sentiment now. The fact that Fighting Nun made that comparison without me even throwing out the dots for him to connect... well, I have trouble naming the emotion I felt when he said that.

Fast forward to last weekend, when I got to see Before Sunrise for the first time in ten years. It still feels clean and simple and perfect in its composition. Richard Linklater and crew still hit every note and I still felt the was I did watching it for the first time ten years ago. Everything still has promise. Actually, I feel I got more out of it this time than I did ten years ago, because I got more out of the details than I did when I was seventeen. There's this moment close to the end of the movie where there are small little cuts of places they had been, now deserted, empty, without them in the frame. You get this awesome sense of longing and loss, and it's note perfect. And yes, I'm not ashamed to admit I got all misty eyed, again.

Long story short. I love those movies, and somehow they feel so timeless, so classic that they don't diminish with age. They get better. Thanks Richard. You are awesome. And so is Julie Delphy. And Ethan Hawke.

Dic. Ta. Phone

There are times in my life where I just wish everything was recorded for prosperity. Like I was able to capture some of the rando conversations I've had because some of it is just so bizarre or some of it is just comedy gold that it deserves to be preserved.

Last night, my best friend Xanthia called and we spent a good hour on about three different phone calls bitching and laughing and dissing people we know and generally having a good time, which yes, the way we have a good time is by making fun of people we know. We became best friends in high school. That's where the source of our friendship comes from, high school bitchery. That's how we roll. Don't judge. You know you do it too, or secretly want to. Don't lie. Love the playa. Hate the game. But that's not the point.

The point is, that whole hour of conversation was comedy gold. It was perfection. And I wish I could transcribe it here, but I can't. Partly because I haven't asked Xanthia's permission and partly because most of it is now lost to history.

Here's a recap though: It started with me insulting Xanthia's on-again off-again paramore who from now on we'll call Ren-faire Jerk, with an awesome line along the lines of "Tell him to go lick a Meth addict. He seems to enjoy it", then it veered off with me realizing that Ren-faire Jerk was actually in the room with Xanthia so then I felt shamed. From there it went on to postulating the the apocolypse is upon us with several different end-of-days calamities come to life. "She wants to date hiiiiiiimmmm? Yeah. Time to head for the hills. The end of days is niegh." About then, Xanthia got kicked out of Ren-Faire Jerk's apartment (Long Story) so then we bitched about Ren-Faire Jerk long and hard. Somewhere around then, I admitted my obsession with "Who Wants to be a Superhero" which led into a discussion or Ren-Faire Jerk's fascination with the show. He and I like the same things? *Shudder* But admittingly I like the show because of how cheesy and lame it is, which I'll get to in a future post, hopefully, and he likes it because he wants to TRY OUT for the show. Which lead to the conjuring up of a Who Wants to be a Superhero drinking game. Except the drinking game would be centered around Ren-Faire Jerk's reaction to the show. "RFJ mentions the type of Super-hero he'd be if he was on the show - 1 shot. RFJ describes the type of outfit he'd wear for tryouts - 2 shots. RFJ describes in detail the type of sidekick you should become - forget the shot, drink the bottle." Somewhere along the line, we veered into talking about the Sumo Wrestling event that happened here and how I DID NOT GET TO SEE IT! No Sumo Wrestlers for me! How upsetting is that? We made a pact that the next time Sumo Wrestling came to town, I'd fly her out here and we'd go see it and then go directly to Wine Country where we would procede to slosh our way through a wine tour. We don't care which one. We're not picky really. Then there was some bolstering of self-esteem in there somewhere. "It's not that you're a loser who can't keep a man Xanth, it's that, out in the weeds of New Mexico, there's nobody of a caliber enough to hang with you. You told a lawyer "Let's Dance Cowboy." IN COURT. You're too much woman for the boys there to handle is all." "Yeah, that's right. I am!" There was some funky conversations about Ernie Reyes Jr. in there and me telling her she had to see Final Fu immediately as well. The conversation only ended because we killed her cell phone battery.

Doesn't sound funny? Maybe not. But I'm telling you. There were some bits in there that were comic GENIUS. Genius I tell you. Which makes me wish I had recorded the whole thing for posterity. Earth Shattering Material there folks. So here's wishing that the next time Xanthia and I have one of our long conversations, I either commit it to memory better or record it, cause it's great. Love you Xanth! Call again anytime!

No, I'm not going to the company picnic.

"I'll pass on the free burgers and bar-b-que this year, thanks.
Hey, why you giving me the stink-eye?"

Sorry, I'm just not. Look, it's not that big a deal. Really it's not. So please stop acting so offended. I didn't eat your baby. I didn't threaten to have you with a nice bottle of Chianti and some fava beans. I didn't punt kick your favorite toy poodle out into oncoming traffic. There's nothing to be that offended or shocked about. I'm just not going o.k. No, I don't have "an excuse." for not going, because you told me "going windsurfing" did not qualify as a suitable excuse and I don't really want to make one up.

I'm just not that interested o.k. I don't want to get beaned in the head with an oncoming softball, clueing everyone in on the fact that I can't catch at the company softball game. I really don't need to be part of the water balloon toss, in which I'd most likely get paired with the kid who got fresh with me at the company Christmas party and who would somehow "miss with his aim" so I'd end up soaked and he could ogle me some more (*shudder*). I don't need to play bingo with somebody from accounts recievable's degenerate cousin, mother, or some other relation trying to make polite conversation while staring at their teeth. And, just for the record, the last time I was at the company picnic, the free alcohol was in quanitities insufficient enough to meet my needs, so these things usually end up on the debit column for me anyway.

So, just save me the shtick alright. You know what shtick I'm talking about. That "Oh you're such a fuddy-duddy" shtick, giving me that look like I'm such a party pooper for wanting to waste my Sunday on something other than carousing with all my fellow employees. Look, there's only so many good windsurfing days in the season. I plan to use them all as wisely as possible. Oh now what? ... Yes I know I'm not suppose to use windsurfing as an excuse. At least it's the truth alright. What you want me to lie to you tell you that I've planned to use that weekend to feed starving orphans in Africa and build houses for Habitat for Humanity? Fine. I'll lie to you. I'm feeding starving orphans and building houses for Habitat for humanity, and if there's any time left over, I might fit in some time for the Peace Corps. Don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only telling you what you want to hear. Yes I realize that what you want to hear is "Yes, I'll be at the company picnic. Right on time. See You there." but it ain't gonna happen. Fine, be all pouty and call me a ba-humbug all you want. Now if you'll excuse, I'll be over in the corner, eating babies, stealing Christmas, and being the pox on humanity that you think I am. Good day sir. I said Good Day!

Six Degrees of Imdb

Imbd is a horribly addictive internet thing for a pop culture junkie like me. It's so wrong. I go in there to read user comments for some movie, and next thing you know, I'm spending a good fifteen minutes combing through the cast of Eerie, Indiana's respective c.v. because just moments before that, I was combing through Picket Fences's cast and crew for some reason, that reason was some how not in relation to Tom Skerritt remarkably, and found that the guy who played Matthew Brock on Picket Fences also played Simon Holmes on Eerie Indiana, which if I remember correctly, was the kid who got ran over by a bus but gave his heart to girl who needed a heart transplant. I'd have to recheck this but unfortunately I do not (DO NOT) have Eerie, Indiana on DVD which is an oversight that I can not (CAN NOT) get Fighting Nun to remedy for me, as well as the oversights of not having Freaks and Geeks and all the seasons of Kids in the Hall, not to mention Invader Zim on DVD (Are You listening Fighting Nun? My birthday is around the corner, these or that Video iPod you've been threatening to get me would suit me perfectly.).

So aaaannnnyhooooo. So I open up Imdb really quickly to read a user review of Little Miss Sunshine (which consequently I want to see now) and I see that Alan Arkin is in it. I then look at his c.v. to revel in the fact that he was in So I married an Axe Murderer and was all sorts of awesome in it. I then see that he was in Chicago Hope, which I did not know and found funny because I sometimes get him and Hector Elizando mixed up and then I look up Hector Elizando up whilst simultaneously chiding him for being in Princess Diaries 2 ("You're better than that Hector. Shame on you!") And then I see that he was also in Jack and Bobby which illicited the following response from me "Damn Hector. What are you? Christina Latti's bitch? Damn." I then see that he was in Picket Fences and I'm all "I don't remember him in that." and so here I am looking at the cast of Picket Fences, which, why didn't someone clue me in to the fact that Holley Marie Combs was in this show? Because I had a tirade once, a long time ago, about her being the odd man out on the cast of Charmed with verteran child stars Shannon Dougherty and Alyssa Milano seems awfully misplaced and wrong now. Sorry Holley, I didn't know. And now I know that the little redhead on Picket Fences, whose various TV, movie and commercial comings and goings I've been cataloging with a casual interest is named Adam Wylie. That's committed to memory now sadly. Now anytime season two and three episodes of Gilmore Girls reruns get Tivoed, I'll be able to name him, which will have Fighting Nun's eyes rolling into the back of his head, again. So then I went from Adam Wylie, to the guy who played his brother who also turned out to play that guy on Eerie, Indiana. And every time I check out the cast list for Eerie Indiana, I am compelled to Check out Jason Marsden's c.v.just on principle. So there you have it. I somehow went from the cast of Little Miss Sunshine to Jason Marsden in like, what five steps? Not even six degrees, damn. I have no idea what this says about me...

Field of Dreams

This story makes me so happy, I can not even tell you. If there is a God, I would have a round trip ticket Dubuque Iowa in my hot little hands right now, I'd stay at my aunt's house in Worthington or my other aunt's house Monticello and I would get to see this in person.

I love The Field of Dreams. Right now, certain cable movie channels that shall remain nameless (only because I can't really remember which ones right now) have been showing Field of Dreams again and I have to watch it each and every time it is on. Every. Time. The Field of Dreams compells me. And so does James Earl Jones. Because James Earl Jones is awesome. And his voice is very commanding. Can you say no to Darth Vadar? No! Not just because of the jedi mind tricks, but also because of the voice. But anyway, that's not the point.

The fact they are actually going to show the Field of Dreams in the Field of Dreams that was made in order to film The Field of Dreams is possibly the most awesomest coolest thing ever. It's kinda cool that Kevin Costner will be attending (it'd be cooler if James Earl Jones were there, but anyway). I just... I totally want to go to this.

I've been to the field before and it is touristy and hoaxy, and you do the really annoying things like pretend you're popping out of the corn like Shoeless Joe, and it's kind of awesome because there are actually (or were, it's been awhile) two farmers who share the particular land the field was made, so they had dualing tourist trap huts, one on the first baseline, the other on the third baseline, and you could tell the two people working the booths really disliked each other.

But that's not the point. The point is that it would be totally awesome to watch one of my favorite movies on the site it was actually filmed with like famous people attached to the movie and stuff. Be even cooler if James Earl Jones were there, but... Hey did I say that already? Yeah I did. Sorry for the redundancy. It would be cool though. (Tell him to get off the set of Sandlot 3: Straight to Video and head to Iowa somebody, geez.) If they would have a showing of The Goonies on the beach, or, even better, on a mock up of the pirate ship. and I could be in attendance, I would be a happy, happy girl.

The Amazing Screw-On Head

I love this show. I know I'm crazy, you could even say I've got a few screws loose (Geddit. Cause he's the Amazing Screw-On Head? Geddit? GEDDIT? Funny huh), but I totally love this for reason I can't explain. It is bizarre. There's a Monkey with a crown, a dog that doesn't die, Abraham Lincoln (always a sign of quality) David Hyde Pierce as the voice of a zombie. It is Awesome!

Fighting Nun thought I had lost it, because he came in from the other room to see what I was watching and was like "The Hell? What are you watching."I think I categorically say I have lost it. But this show is awesome. Go watch it. I realize that my propensity for watching a high quotient of crap doesn't qualify me as someone who's TV watching opinion you should trust, but I'm telling you. Funniest, most bizarre thing I've seen in awhile, and I just saw A Scanner Darkly in theatres. It's filling a void left by not getting to watch reruns of Invader Zim anymore. It is awesome.

Hey Jeopardy Fans....

Do me a favor and lighten up. Ken Jennings makes one unfavorable comment about Trebek being a cyborg (he is by the way) and he's marked for life. I mean come on people! Can't you Trebek-ies take a joke? Jesus.

Final Fu!

Fiiiiii-nnnnaaaal Fuuuuuu! Final Fu!

So fine. I'll admit it. I'm watching it. And I... like it. And no, I don't have any excuses for it, other than it makes me relive all those fevered dreams I had for that short four months when I was a white belt studying Tae Kwon Do when I was in eighth grade. Shut up. Like you guys didn't have delusions of martial arts grandeur, getting to star alongside the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and variations there of that peppered the pop culture radar back in the day? Just me then? Fine.

The thing about Final Fu is that it's not all that great. The challenges are kinda lame, I mean, do we really need to see some strange punch kick combinations on a dummy? Really we do? And just when I'm questioning why on earth am I watching this show, Ernie Reyes Jr. does some crazy hand movement or does some crazy stunt (which is why I like him to begin with) or does something involving a gong, and then I go "Oh yeah. That's why. Heh. Gong."And what is with the gong? As Fighting Nun so aptly put it "Can't you just count down and blow a whistle like the rest of us plebes? A gong? Jesus." That gong is freaking ubiquitous. It stopped being a set piece and turned an actual character somewhere down the line. I swear to God.

But I have to ask, what happened to Ernie Reyes Jr.? I mean, where has the cute kid, and the even cuter tennager with the long hair that spouted off bad lines of dialogue in movies such as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 and Surf Ninjas? Who is this buzz-cut-coifed, track-suit-wearing gym teacher and what has he done with the Ernie Reyes Jr. I know and love? I mean he's still got his martial arts moves and all, by the hair? And the looks of Ultra-sterness? Doing him no favors.

But besides that, I'm really starting to love the show. I'm starting to love all of Ernie Reyes Jr.'s kookie moves he does before and after every fight. It's like he's stuck in a Mortal Kombat video game and he can't quite give up the gestures. And before you open up outlook, let me just say that, Yes I know that those hand gestures are part of a unique martial arts ritual. Save your speech. Besides, it doesn't matter, because Heh, funny hand movements. I've also started repeating his various lines, complete with hand gestures. Take for example, what he says after every fight "Saaa-Lute. Rest." So much authority. Sooo odd and yet so fun at the same time.

Know what else I'm loving about this show? All the screaming. Before every match, the brilliant camera guys and editors do these awesome close ups on the fighters screaming. Each fighter has the same exact look. It's this "I'm trying to be intimidating so I'm scrunching my face up into a pseudo-wolf-snarl thing, but because I already have my mouth guard in you only see the black of the mouth guard, so I look like a gumless wonder" look. Don't think that sounds funny? You will when you see it. It will crack your shit up, and you will immediately rewind for a sight of the screaming-scrunchie wonders once more.

But the only drawback to this show, which might not be considered a draw back depending on how you look at it, is what I call the "Monkey See, Monkey Do" hypothesis, playing itself out in our house. Here's the thing. Remember when you were a kid and you would see something cool on TV, not something totally unbelievable like say Superman flying, or Wonderwoman with her bracelets and all, but something that was really cool but yet attainable, if you know, you had actual coordination and weren't 10. Like I always wanted to root around in an air duct, you know those big metal ones you always see in the movies that everybody always uses as an escape hatch, but have I ever found one of those big metal air duct thingies in which to escape into all secretive like? No. I don't even think they really exist.

Now that we're grown up, the Monkey See, Monkey Do hypothesis has changed a little bit. Take for example the time Fighting Nun and I saw Ronin in the theater. For two weeks after that, Fighting Nun drove all crazy-like, trying to drive backwards all fast, and getting all swervy and crazy. The thing with Final Fu, which also holds true with most martial arts movies (See Kung Fu Hustle) is we both get it in our heads that we should reenact a scene or a fight. This almost never ends well. Somebody almost always misplaces a kick, landing in somebody else's nutsack (I wonder who's who!) then the fighting escalates from the fun play-fighting reenactment to wanting to inflict a little pain, and then it goes on and on until either an arm is bruised, or somebody either takes an elbow, a door, or a wall in the eye (ahem, Fighting Nun, ahem), or gets a ping pong ball in the neck (that was me) and blood is drawn accidently (both of us). So thanks Final Fu, for enliving the Monkey See, Monkey Do principle once again.

So, Final Fu! I reccomend it! From Ernie Reyes Jr.'s gong action (Nasty!) to the awesome growly thing the fighters do, to actually convincing Fighting Nun and I that we should fight all martial-arts-stylee. The Bloody Munchkin reccomends it. *Gong*.

Happy Aloha Friday

So a few days ago, a very awesome co-worker answered a prayer I never knew I had. She brought me a gift, which in and of itself isn't the prayer. The gift, in her words is "Another toy to add your collection" . The toy in question is a very awesome hawaiian bobble man (for lack of a better description). This answered a prayer, filled a need I never knew I had. Well, I've known I've wanted, neigh, NEEDED a bobble head of some sort in my collection for quite sometime now. I've been hounding Fighting Nun for a Apolo Anton Ohno Bobblehead for quite some time, and let's not even talk about how forlorn and sad I get when I miss a Giants bobblehead day. I still whimper about not getting an Omar Visquel bobblehead, I mean cause seriously. How cool would that be? And then I could finally track down his version of Broadway, and anytime I needed inspiration, any time I needed to be cheered up just a little bit, I could play the song, have Omar's voice tell me ever so gently that "Bwoadway's dahk tooonight" and everything would be o.k., everything would be right again. But I don't have an Omar bobble head. I don't have any bobble heads, or anything that bobbles really.

Until now! Now I have a tattooed hawaiian man with what I'm choosing to believe is the Lou-Diamond-Phillips-As-Richie-Valenz-era coif, a lei and a straw skirt that will now give me any affirmations I want, which is so awesome, awesome in ways I can not even tell you. Now, any time I need some support or guidance I have him. And it works like a charm. Let me give you a sample.

"Hawaiian Guy (I haven't named him yet, which I'll get to in a second) I'm kind of having a fat day. Does my butt look big in these jeans?"
*Thunk, Bing-a-bing-a-bing (Hawaiian Guy's inner thoughts, which I can read) "No dahlink. Your butt looks fabulous. Now sit back and relax as I play on my ukelale. (Starts Singing) Tiiii-neey Buuuu-bles."
"Thanks Hawaiian Guy, you're awsome"
"(Sends thought finger guns my way) Any time dahlink."
And anything I want him to do, within his capability, he does. "Hawaiian Guy, do an Elvis Pelvis shake."
"You got it dahlink" *Ka-thunk-a-thunk-wing-wing-wing*

*Just for the record, I don't know why he sounds like that one Billy Crystal character either, he just does. I just didn't think a hawaiian Bobble figurine should have Barry White's voice, and that was the second runner up.

But here's the thing, I haven't decided what to name him yet, and Hawaiian guy is getting a bit irritable at me for not naming him. His previous owner said I should call him Rico, but then I started calling him Don Ho for no good reason, other than I like going "Tiii-neee Buuu-bles" and snapping my fingers any time I make him bobble. And then I started thinking of him as having the Richie-Valenz-fifties-style-man-poof, so I started calling him Richie, but then started thinking about the movie La Bamba and realized I liked calling him Lou better, but that made me sad when I realized that the last time Lou Diamond Phillips was in a movie I really enjoyed was when Reagan was still in office. So then the Tigress mentioned that he looked like Maxwell Caulfield's character during the Luau scene in Grease 2 (which I'll have to take her word for), so then I started calling him Rex Manning, which I guess has kind of stuck...

"Oh Rexy, You're sooo Sexy"
"Thank You dahlink. Smell the flowers on my lei and let me serenade you with the sounds of the island. Also, shall I hula for your amusement?"
"Yes, yes you must." *Thoink-bing-a-bing-a-bong-wing-wing-wing-shaka-shaka-shaka*

But I haven't quite settled on that yet, I feel like I should pick a name from one of those fifties beach movies, but I can't quite recall any that seem fitting, so he's still nameless or more to the point in between names (in between names? Wasn't that the name of Jordan Catelano's band when AJ was with the band but she got stage fright and couldn't remember the words to "I wanna be sedated" by the Ramones? Hawaiian Guy: "Why yes it is dahlink" *Thoink-boing-boing* "You are so smart about pop culture" "*Blushing* Gee thanks Hawaiian Guy. Sometimes I even surprise myself"). So please help me name him. You can vote on the names provided, or nominate a new name entirely in the comments.

Boo!

I saw this earlier today, and I have to say it's stuck with me. This? Is what's going to be haunting my dreams tonight. This? Is what parents tell their toddlers will be coming out of their beds at night if they don't eat their vegetables, brush their teeth and kiss their momma like good boys and girls. Can't you just hear it "Eat more peas or Carson Daly will come out of your closet and devour you whole." This is...

You know what this is actually? O.k., so three or four (possibly five, GASP!) years ago, Fighting Nun and I were at a house party over at a friend's. There was this girl there that insisted on taking pictures of everybody and she actually caught Fighting Nun at a bad angle and quite by surprise. She gave said picture of surprise and its copy (there were two) to my friend. Well my friend had two roommates and they kind of had a leeetle too much fun with said photo. So one of the copies they cut out Fighting Nun's head and would tape to various pictures and objects to freak the other out. My friend Top Gun had a bikini or lingerie calendar and one of his roommates taped Fighting Nun's head to one of the girl's bodies, so he turned his calendar over and there Fighting Nun was, staring back at him from his bikini calendar. This picture is like that, disconcerting and kinda freaky.

I only have two questions to ask about this photo: When did Carson Daly start getting hairplugs and why is he emulating Richard Simmons?

Pam and Kid Rock to Marry

You know what ticks me about this news? It's not that Pamela Anderson happens to be forsaking Tommy Lee (who has stated several times that he'd like to get back with her, but that's neither here nor there) for Kid Rock. It's not that she consistently goes for guys who have made a sex video, either with or without her. It's that SHE'S IN THE NEWS AT ALL.

I just... she just... *inarticulate hate gurgle*. I have some irrational hate for Pamela Anderson to the point that any time she's in the news for any length of time at all, I start getting all red in the face and grumpy for no explicable reason. Part of it has to do with how annoying she is about her PETA involvement, and being a vegetarian, and blah blah blah, and the other part of it is that SHE. JUST. WON'T. GO. AWAY. I mean seriously, she's like some andromeda strain of Celebrity-dom, the likes of which only Paris Hilton can best. Just when you think you have a handle on the virus that is Pamela Anderson, she pops back up, more annoying and cloying than ever.

And there's just stuff about her that I know that I can't unknow unless I become senile that I wish I didn't know, like the number of sex videos that have popped up with her in them (I believe the total is 2, one with Tommy Lee, the other with Brett Micheals), the fact that she had an all vegetarian Thanksgiving feast with Morrisey for PETA (come on, there has to be something more important for those brain cells to store), the fact that she refused to wear anything but PETA approved designers for some fashion event she hosted in Europe, which meant she only wore Stella McCartney's designs. It's sad that I know that. Other stuff I know that I don't want to know? The fact that she had her boobs done, undone, and redone bigger over the course of her career. I don't need to know the history of Pamela Anderson's boobs. And yet I do, probably better than my own. Which is sad. The fact that she's only going to treat her Hepatitis C with all natural drugs, which o.k., here's what I want to know. Let's say you're a somewhat hot but obviously on the hunt for nice a piece of tail actor, model or rock star and you can have your choice of tail anywhere out there in the world. Why, on god's green earth would hit this desease ridden piece of ass, not once, But repeatedly? Because that crap has been well publicized, but that hasn't stopped a whole bevy of men from repeatedly dipping into that well, know what I'm sayin'? But why? That's what I'm confused about. Because, ick.

And wasn't she going to retire from the public eye? Didn't she come back into the public eye to say she was leaving the public eye only to come back into it in the form of a nude picture she did for PETA for a billboard (another thing I wish I could unknow). Damn it Pamela, if you're gonna go, go. Stay gone. Don't come back. Really. If I throw a stick, will you leave? Because damn.

O.k., I'm sorry for the vitreol Pamela, really I am. I hope Kid Rock really has a lot fun with your girls for eternity. Really I do. Just do me a favor and live the remainder of your days with Kid Rock out quietly? Just please. Don't come back in the media because you got some other spreadable desease by sharing a tattoo needle. Don't openly insult someone at a red carpet event for wearing a leather coat and let page six post it. Just go away.

Loves;

The Bloody Munchkin

Mr. T Rules! Charitibly.

O.k., I think it's a well known fact that I love Mr. T. The A-Team was, I wouldn't say before my time, it just wasn't what I was into. But you know what was my time? What I was totally into? Mister T! I had the Mister T decoder ring (from a cereal box) and everything. The animated TV show was a bit odd and there was something about, I dunno, gymnasts? But that doesn't mean I didn't love that when I was a kid.

I've heard rumors of him resurfacing for a while now. And now he's going to be on a show where he doles out advice for other people's problems, which, if I was ever to go on a show and talk about my problems, I'd want Mr. T. to be the one to answer them. And I totally have to watch this. Fighting Nun, do you happen to know if we have TV Land? Because I'm here to tell you, this would be a good reason to get it. I mean, I can only guess at the type of advice he would dole out, but I'm sure his answers would be awesome.

So Mr. T's back, somewhat I think. And he's also back without his chains. Can you believe that? Him getting rid of his trademark? That was maybe on the top 3 of a list of ten things I never thought I'd hear in my lifetime. And he's getting rid of them to help Katrina victims. How awesome is that? He battles cancer, doles out advice and sheds his jewels for charity. Is there anything Mr. T. can't do. I Think Not!

The regrettable career of Eric Balfour

Before I get started on this one, let me just say that unlike Rob Schnieder (and it's not that I vehemently dislike Rob Schnieder, its just that he's done some unbelievably vile stuff, but you get what I mean), I really actually like Eric Balfour. I mean, I had a crush on him that goes all the way back to his days on Kids Incorporated that was unrelenting. I mean Un. Relenting. Him and Ryan Lambert filled my pre-adolescent days with glee and a lot of squeeing. O.k. let me take you back, way back to the days when kids out in the sticks and weeds such as myself and Xanthia had only heard of MTV and had come to think of it not so much as a mythical creature like the unicorn, but more like dolphins at some far away location that you got to visit on that fleeting vacation. And that's truly when we got to see cable tv channels like MTV and Nickelodean and the Disney channel (which is where Kids Incorporated and it's even more squee-worthy counterpart The Mickey Mouse Club existed). You went to the theme park during the day to see shamu and ride rollercoasters that made you upend the ice cream sandwich you had just eaten and then you chilled at the motel pool and then watched MTV and all the other mystical channels the motel cable had to offer that you could not watch at home. Back in those days, the Disney Channel was considered a "Premium" channel. They didn't even have commercials! Gasp! They used to do this thing called subscription week or some such thing, and they would bait you for that week with all their programming and then they'd display a telephone number so you could order the channel. I could not be moved from the tv for that week. Would not budge an inch. Not one inch at all. And the reason I would not move? Kids Incorporated and The Mickey Mouse Club. That hour of programming was my heroine and Eric Balfour was reason number 1 why I needed my fix.

I mean, back then the cuteness was undeniable. And from that point on, I would catch him on things, like that regrettable comedy about cops that aired for one season on (I think) ABC. It was bad. But he was good, mostly because he was cute, but I digress. And then he was on the first two episode of Buffy, and everyone who had a direct or indirect hand in the first four seasons of Buffy is just cool by association. So needless to say, my hopes have always been high for him. He's cute. He's scruffy. He's got a mean swagger about him that I always dig, he was part of the seemingly endless chain of cute but totally-wrong-for-her boys that Claire Fisher would end up with. I just loved him. He and Jeremy Sisto somehow had the ability to make me squee loudly anytime they were on screen on that shoe. And everytime I did, Fighting Nun would give me this look, this deep penetrating hard gaze that said "You are such a girl, Jesus", followed closely by his patented eye roll to which all I could do was go "I'm sorry... but Eric Balfour!" or "But, but, but, it's Jeremy!"

But then Eric somehow became a hex on all shows that tried to cast him either as a lead or as a protagonist. I mean "Veritas: The Quest"? "Hawaii?" "Fearless?" "Sex, Love and Secrets?" Which I hear never even aired. Did UPN just take a bath in that one or what? "Hawaii?" "Conviction?" I mean come on. If that car commercial in which he plays Satan, that season in which he was on 24 (which I never watched actually), and his stint on Six Feet Under have taught us anything, it's that he's much better off either playing a bad guy or at least someone misguided. The play it by the books protagonist? Not so much. Come on Eric! You doomed a man to an eternity of driving a minivan! The least you can do is keep with the theme.

I mean, I think I've proved without a shadow of a doubt that I like the guy, but his continually starring in crappy shows can also make him the bane of my exsistence. Because I feel obligated to at least somewhat pay attention to the stuff he's in, but it annoys me that he's continually in some crappy stuff. Who knows, maybe the next thing he's in will actually be pretty good. I mean. The Elder Son actually sounds good and anything with Rade Zerbedzija in it at least makes said movie go up a letter grade. But still, I've had to put up with a lot of crappy stuff in his career just for the sole fact that he was in it. I guess for every Can't Hardly Wait appearance, there has to be a Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but please for the love of God, not too many. Please Eric, as one of your lifelong fans, I deserve better than that, and so do you. And so does your career. That c.v. ain't gonna right itself, know what I'm sayin?

Bless Me, Damn it!

See Fighting Nun, if you don't please me when I sneeze, I might die. And then me and the Almight Cheese Sauce will be kicking it in heaven. I'll leave the mortal coil if you don't bless me when I sneeze. Do you get it now????

Running With Scissors

Why didn't anybody tell me that one of my favorite books in the last few years was being turned into a movie? Shame on ya'll.

And the cast for this movie? Looks totally awesome. Alec Baldwin, Annette Benning, Gwyneth? Joseph Fiennes as Neil Bookman? Some inspired bit of casting right there. I mean, whoa. I haven't seen trailers, I don't know how true to the book it'll be, but I'm already applauding the attempt.

Rodney Dangerfield Rules

So last night, we're watching Celebrity Deathmatch, and who should they happen to pair up but a brought back from 2004 Rodney Dangerfield versus Robb Schnieder. I actually heard myself utter "I don't want to live in a world, imaginary or real, where Robb Schnieder wins against Rodney Dangerfield." Thankfully I don't have to.

Thank you Celebrity Deathmatch for providing me with an alternate universe where Rodney Dangerfield can live out the rest of his days in Robb Schnieder free peace and harmony.

Worker's Comp

There is nothing quite like falling down three stairs and almost to a full face plant in front of a handful of co-workers. NOTHING!

Actually the only upside to said almost-face-planting was I got to use the following line "The execution was flawless but I'll have to take a 7/10's point deduction on the landing." Nothing like figure skating references to make me feel better about various pitfalls and blunders.

If I call in sick tomorrow (Psst. Fighting Nun, how are the winds looking), do you think the bevy of witnesses will vouch for me? I can hear the phone call now "Oh yeah, I'm really hurt today after my fall at work. I'm not going to file a worker's comp charge, but do you mind if I take a couple days off to 'recuperate'?"

Think it'll work?

Headbutts and Yo Momma Insults

That's right folks, Materazzi insulted Zidane's momma and Zidane ain't having none of it. Everyone around the world do me a favor. If you ever end up on some god-forsaken soccer field and you happen to be on an opposing side to this guy in a friendly game of pick-up soccer, whatever you do, do not insult his momma. You'll have a nice little indention in your chest to show for it.

Short Story

So I'm doing something a little different on this blog for a little while. My best friend and I (Hey Xanthia!!! What's up girl!) are thinking of writing together so I added her to my blog and we're going to try coming up with some various fiction and short stories. It's a work in progress, so be patient.

Anyhoo, below I'm attaching part of a short story I'm in the process of writing. Hope you enjoy. Here goes nothing:


It was my last day. It already felt bittersweet. The music store was my refuge, the one place where I could go and feel like an individual, and now I was leaving it. The shift started out like any other, but by first break Natalie and I had already dissolved into tears twice. I was going to miss her most of all. Well almost most of all.
He showed up two hours before closing. It aggravated me. I was doing my best to ignore him, but yet, everywhere I looked he was always in my periphary, daring me to stare, daring me to dream. But I couldn't get caught up in it again. He'd look at me, trying to get my attention. I couldn't let it happen. I was too worried that I'd dissolve into Old Andrea again to notice the music change. He was in the line to be cashed out thirty minutes before closing. I would do whatever I could to avoid ringing him out, but he would just let someone else go in front of him, biding his time. Finally I couldn't avoid him. I took a deep breath and sighed. "Can I take the next person in line?" He came up with a big stack of CDs. "I though you balked at the idea of buying your own CDs and funding 'The System'."
"I do, but see I use to have this friend who made me the most awesome mixed tapes but she's been playing a disappearing act lately. So I'm having to make due."
I looked down and at his CDs. It was a hard jab and I was going to have to take it. "Buying Ashlee Simpson and Mandy Moore? Not exactly making due there chief."
"What can I say, without guidance I can get lost in the cultural wasteland."
"Do you really want these?"
"No not really."
"How about... Vanilla Ice! Josh you have got to be kidding me."
"O.k. the top three are a joke but the rest I want."
"So, is this little excursion just an excuse for spending more of the trust fund, or do have an actual reason for being here?"
"I came to see you actually. I heard you got that internship in Seattle."
I got really quite and stared at his CDs a bit. "I did."
"And you're leaving on Thursday."
"I am."
"I tried calling you."
"I know you did."
"You haven't returned any of my phone calls, or any of my texts."
"I haven't"
"Were you going to tell me?" More quiet.
"I was going to call you once I felt..."
"Felt what?"
"That I was over you and we could start over in ernest without...without my feelings getting in the way."
"And when was that going to be?" Even more quiet.
"I don't know."
"So what was your plan? You were just going to cut off contact with me, not even give me a chance to explain myself, cut line and bail? Does our friendship mean anything to you Andrea?"
"How can you ask me that. It's because it means everything to me that I had to do this." Tears wer in my eyes now. I could feel my throat closing up.
"Will you at least talk to me, I just need to..." I gave him a hard calculating look, trying hard to hold back my quivering lip and tears I knew wanted to come.
"I'm busy packing and getting ready. I don't think I can."
"How about tonight? Can you talk to me after your shift."
"I don't think so. Gino asked me to stock after. I won't get out until way after midnight."
"She gets off in fifteen minutes." Natalie piped up from her cash register. I wheeled in her direction, a look of astonishment and anger probably in full view on my face. I'm pretty sure I threw in a nostril flair for good measure.
"Actually I don't. I get off in an hour because I promised I'd help Gino."
"But Gino told you it is your last day. That you should live it up and that you should take off as soon as sign off and cash in your register."
"But I already made arrangements. I'm staying for an hour."
"But Gino and I both said to take the night off early. We won't allow you to work the extra hour." She looked directly at Josh "She's off in fifteen minutes."
"So fifteen minutes then. Will you talk to me then?"
"I don't think it's a good idea Josh."
"You're not giving on this at all are you?"
I shook my head and finished ringing him up. He handed me his credit card in silence. As he left, he took the bag from my hand and said "Plan B then."
Once he was gone, I wheeled on Natalie "What the hell was that all about?"
"He was your best friend. You're not going to spend one of your last nights here talking to your best friend?"
"What for? So he can tell me that I'm his best friend and that my friendship means more to him than my feelings mean to me so that I can dissolve into the same old schmoopy, mopey Andrea puddle again? I won't do it."
"No Andrea. So you can say goodbye to somebody who meant so much to you. Take my advice. If you don't listen to what he has to say, you might end up regretting it for the rest of your life."
"No. I don't see that. I just see the same old patterns. And I can't fall into them right now... Hold on. What is this playing?"
We listened for a second "It's Bloc Party's ..."
"Modern Love. What was playing before it?"
"Golden Palamino's Rain..."
"Holds. And the Cranberries played before that. Son of a Bitch, Micheal's playing my mixed tape. Hand me the walkie talkie."
"Micheal."
"Yeah." He squawked back.
"What is this you're playing?"
"A mixed CD this guy asked me to spin. He says the mix is yours. It's pretty good. The student has become the master."
"Yeah Yeah, that's great. Could you take it off please?"
"No can do. Guy payed me twenty bucks to play it in it's entirety."
"I'll pay you forty to turn it off."
"Sorry I got a better offer. Same guy is offering me a hundred bucks for the micraphone."
"Micheal. Do not give him the mic. Do you hear me. Do not give him the mic!" There was nothing coming from the other end of walkie talkie. "Son of a Bitch."
I heard his voice coming over the speakers. I tried my best to ignore it, ringing out the customers as fast as I could to drown him out.
"Hi. How's everybody doing tonight?" I saw him at the DJ booth in the middle of the store. "I hope you're all enjoying your shopping experience so far. How do you like the mixed tape so far?" Various customers catcalled and clapped.
"What the hell is he doing?" I asked to nobody in particular.
"Talking to you the one way he's sure you'll listen." Natalie said matter of factly.
"My best friend made this mix. She actually works here. Be sure to tell Andrea how much you enjoyed it on your way out. She's up front at the register." People's necks snapped from his side of the store to mine. "Wave to everybody Andrea, let them know who you are." My cheeks flushed. I felt red all over. I had no idea what was going on and I had just gotten put in the spot light. I put my hand up slightly without even knowing what I was doing. "I hope you'll forgive me this little indulgence of playing this in front of you all, but you see this is my friend's last day working here. She's moving on to bigger and better things. I just wanted to remincse with her a little before she left. She used to make me the best mixed tapes and we used to stay up all night in her tiny room listening to them and talking about everything." He had climbed onto the DJ booth counter now, so that the whole store could see him clearly. "Looking back on it, those nights were the best nights of my life. It was just us and the music and everything felt good. I'm really going to miss those moments. Anyway, on alot of those nights I use to go on and on about the perfect ten. I was obsessed with finding a girl who met with my totally skewed standards of perfection. Not perfect but someone who was perfect for me. But that standard, my system was stupid. Nobody's perfect. I get that now. My best friend isn't. You see, she's suffering from depression, but she's trying to work it out for herself. She's trying to get better on her own terms. I'm very proud of her. I'm not perfect either. Apparantly I'm deaf and blind. You wouldn't know it to look at me. I'm blind because I couldn't see a good thing when it was right in front of my face. And I'm deaf because I never stopped to listen to my heart." Tears were streaming down my eyes, but I also had a quizzical look on my face. Just what was he getting at? "Andrea. I realize I'm a little late on this but I love you. I'm in love with you. And I want to know if you love me too. So do you?"
I stood stock still. The weight of it hit me. "Andrea?" This time I heard the walkie talkie.
I shook myself awake and picked up the walkie talkie. "Does he mean it?" I could see Josh bending down.
"What does she mean do I mean it. Of course I mean it." Boomed from the speakers.
Micheal squawked back into the walkie-talkie "He means it."
I took a long breath and then whispered into the walkie talkie. "Yes."
Over the speakers I heard "What"
"Yes" I said loudly and then I yelled it.
When it finally registered with him what my answer was, He clambered down off the DJ stand and ran in my direction. I met him halfway there. There's something about kissing someone in the stacks of your favorite record store. In the movies, you always see the heartfelt reunion, the romantic climax, and you always wish that it would happen to you. That you could have that moment. I wanted that moment, but I never thought I could have it, not ever, and especially not with Josh. But there I was, in the middle of the record store, having my moment.
"You have lousy timing."
"You wouldn't return my calls. It's not my fault. I'm perfect."
"You're deaf and blind."
"Not any more."

The End

O.k., it needs some work, I get that. But I'm interested to see what anybody has to say about it.
Thanks in advance.

The Bloody Munchkin

Headbutt Heard Round the World

I don't really talk about sports around here because I don't feel very qualified to talk about it at any depth. And so it should come to no surprise that this post is about something so banal and menial as Zadane's headbutt at the end of World Cup Final.

That? Was Awesome. I'm sorry that this statement basically marks me as having the emotional maturity of a five-year-old, but it really was awesome, like hockey fight awesome. It was unexpected and just shocking and, sure it's not what anyone, especially Zidane, would've wanted. I get that if they had to do over again, the parties involved might not have done it, or Zidane probably would've controlled his temper (I can't vouch for the other guy).

But sadly, I'm kind of glad he did it, if only because it was memorable. I mean I remember other parts of the game, and other games in this world cup too, but what's going to stick with me for years to come? This. And why? Because it surprised me, and got me talking about Soccer with Fighting Nun more, which we don't usually do. And it also got me theororizing what might've ticked him off (I thought it was actually a Yo' Mama style diss, but apparantly not so much. I mean, a racial slur? That's it? Weak.), talking about how viciously the commentators turned on Zidane in the end. And I mean, what was with that? For the previous 109 minutes, they were putting him on a pedastal and lauding him with praise. It was sickening me there for awhile ('Will they just tell him how they feel and leave us out of their crush? Jesus!') Then, the 110 minute happened, Zidane Headbutts the guy in the chest and suddenly? The commentators treat him like he just ate a baby with A1 sauce in front of everyone. Take it easy commentator dudes, he didn't kill anybody. Now if the guy he head butted was seriously injured, like paralyzed for life injured, then I'd be pissed at him, but as it is, the dude wasn't heart and played out the rest of the game, smarmy smile and all.

Do I think what Zidane did was wrong? Yes. Do I think it merited a red card. Yeah, probably. I mean they weren't in the midst of a play, so it was unnecessary contact, but do I think his little action got blown way out of proportion. Oh yes definately. Like I said before, his behavior was hockey fight bad. Not, egregariously and monstrously bad, just letting the adrenaline and anger get to you kind of bad, and should therefore be cut a break in the press.

It's not like I like the guy, because after the five-thousandth "Zidane and his prolific career, Zidane is such an amazing player" the commentators made, I wanted to throttle both him and the commentators, I just don't think he did anything that bad. So cut the guy a break. Or he'll headbutt you.

Badges of Adulthood

O.k., so remember when you were in elementary school and somehow, and you’re not really sure how you were reeled into this, all you know is you were enlisted into a scouts of some kind? And you did stuff? And remember how they gave you like badges that you wore on a sash signifying the stuff you did.

I’m not sure why I was in the girl scouts, other than that I’m convinced that my mother would rather I spend hours making lanyard key chains for no purpose whatsoever than to be in her hair at that age, but for whatever reason I was in the girl scouts. I don’t really remember the stuff I did in girl scouts. I think there was something about knots and I know we made stuff, like key chains and bracelets. And I’m pretty sure I got badges for stuff I did during those all important girl scout meetings I attended that I don’t really remember now. And I actually don’t remember any of the badges, and I’m no longer in possession of said badges because I’m pretty sure I got rid of all my girl scout stuff during my “Kurt Cobain is my co-pilot, Green Peace is my calling from God” phase (It was the Mid-Nineties and I was a rebellious spawn of hippies in a bible-belt state, what can I tell you?). I regret getting rid of them, not because I look fondly on those badges, but because, Damn It, I want some badges for stuff I’ve done and I want them NOW!

Let me explain. So today I went windsurfing, which, for me, can be awesome or my Achilles Heel depending on what day it is, what my mood is and whether or not the Windsurfing Gods have decided to spite me or not. But today? It was awesome! I did some bad-ass shit out on that water, well bad-ass for me anyway. I tackled my first non-planing jibe (Yah!) and I thought I was a plane, or sounding like one anyway.

WARNING: Long Anticdote to follow.

So there I was on the water, going faster than I normally do, which is awesome (AWESOME!). I hear this noise. I think the fact that I am going faster than I normally do is creating said noise. I think there is something on the fin of my board creating said noise. I realize there is nothing on said fin creating the noise. I really do think I am making said noise. For a split second, I’m convinced I’m breaking the speed barrier. I… realize it’s a plane flying overhead making the noise. My ego is immediately deflated. Then I realize that this whole thought process might be the single funniest, most idiotic thing I’ve ever thought and begin laughing convulsively. I get my board back to Fighting Nun, laughing the whole time and convey said story to Fighting Nun. I realize I’ve made a huge mistake because I’ve now created more fuel for the “Tease Bloody Munchkin about something she said or did” fire, which frankly needs no more fuel. Fighting Nun and I have been together just shy of a decade and within this amount of time I’ve said enough unintentionally funny and embarrassing things and done enough embarrassingly stupid stuff that Fighting Nun now has a huge artillery of embarrassing Bloody Munchkin tidbits, which now include this story. (End Anticdote) But this is not my point.

My point is, I did some pretty awesome stuff out there today. A non-planing jibe. I actually pulled off a non-planing jibe today, which I frankly thought was beyond my abilities, which makes me proud beyond belief. But do I have anything to show for it? Photographic evidence? Video footage? A cool scar even? Noooooo! And do I have anyone other than Fighting Nun to share said accomplishments with? Nooooo! I couldn’t even share this with my mom because she starts getting all gaspy any time I mention I’ve attempted a sport any more dangerous than shuffleboard. And Fighting Nun is tired of my bragging, not just because he’s done several non-planing jibes himself and is therefore a bigger bad-ass than I am, but mostly because after my fifteenth attempt at bragging about the stunt, complete with flexing my “Guns” and posing, he and I both knew it has lost its appeal.

That’s why I say I want a badge marking the occasion. I want a sash with a little iron-on badge that say “Non-Planing Jibe” on it. In fact, I think there are a lot of events that happen to us as adults that we deserve badges for, or maybe even a gold star. I mean seriously, where is the reward system for accomplishing stuff anymore? Just cause we’re out of elementary school doesn’t mean we dislike blue ribbons over here. And it’s not that accomplishing stuff isn’t it’s own reward. It is. But Damn It, some days, not everyday, but every once and awhile I want proof of reaching my milestone. I want my Girl Scouts sash back and I want to fill it with accomplishments, however small, that I find meaningful. Like the Non-Planing Jibe badge or “Didn’t flip off the guy who cut me off in traffic, even though he really deserved it” badge or “I actually made it through a day of work with out pummeling my co-workers down ruthlessly with my words” badge. I want to wear this sash complete with badges around all the time and point them out like I did back when I was a girl scout, even though I can’t remember what those badges were.

So I propose we as adults start a new scout troop, complete with sashes and badges that mean something to us now. We’ll call it the Bloody Munchkin Adult Show-Off Scouts of America! Who’s with me? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller? Fry? Fine. I’ll just be over here in the corner, sewing on my Windsurfing Badass badge onto my sash and polishing my “I’m smarter than you” medal. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.

I have voodoo powers...

Or something. Not a day, A DAY, after I verbally jibed Rob Schnieder's career, did he come back in the news. I am very sorry to hear that he was injured and/or suffered a bout of exhaustion on the set and had to be hospitalized. I am also just a tad freaked out that the day after I wrote a strongly worded epitome about how is career sucks that nature and/or karma decided to take matters into her own hands. I can hear Karma now. "You know what, The Bloody Munchkin was right. Maybe I should do something about making sure he doesn't make a movie about an Ex-con who learns kung-fu". But somehow, he survived and his evil plans for world domination, er I mean making mediocre films is still underway, because apparantly you can't slow down robbie boy, probably be he sold his soul to the devil, or Adam Sandler, which given that Adam Sandler played Satan's son in Little Nicky, not really a stretch...

The Regrettable Career of Rob Schnieder

So, I've meant to do one of these posts for several different people for awhile. My idea is to analyze some sagging celebrity careers in a hopes of pinpointing where it all went wrong, or, in some cases, why it was never right to begin with. I've wanted to write about a few people, but it's never seemed quite timely or topical.

My choosing to analyze Rob Schnieder's ailing career might be only topical to me, because as far as I know Deuce Bigelow: African Gigelo hasn't been made yet (THANK! GOD) and aside from Benchwarmers, he really hasn't been on the horizon for awhile. But somehow, within the last four days, I've seen 20 minutes of two utterly regrettable movies he made: Surf Ninjas and Judge Dredd. After doing so, I'm under the direct impression that my own circle of hell would be being forced to watch all of Rob Schnieder's movies in twenty minute snippets, over and over again, because, with the exception of his guest spot work in Adam Sandler's movies and some of his sketch characters on SNL, he has been in some exceptionally crappy stuff. I mean, there's a couple of things he gets a pass on, but on the whole? Yeah, not so much. When the highlights of your career happen to be various bit players and Adam Sandler stooges. It's time to rethink that career path is what I'm saying.


It's not to say that his acting is wholy terrible, sometimes it is, but sometimes, in some truly crapacious crap, he can be a bright spot. Take Surf Ninjas for example. O.k., I actually have to backtrack a little on this one. When I was in high school, one night I rented a bunch of bad movies and was granted permission at having a few wine coolers while watching said crappy movies by my parents, which I readily agreed to, because it was that or cruising the mean streets of snoozeville USA, again for the umpteen hundredth time of my adolescent career. So there I was, a smidge bit tipsy off Lemon-Lime Bartle and James (I think) watching Surf Ninjas. So my mind at the time, which was clouded not only with sugary wine coolers but also with just being a giggly sixteen year-old girl, which is like a double whammy, so not only did I think that Ernie Reyes Jr. was like the Hottest Martial Artist eva! but I also thought this movie was the funniest thing ever to hit the streets.

And then I saw the first twenty minutes on Sunday, and then suddenly, everything I thought I knew was wrong. This movie kind of really sucked. It sucked Awesomely! (Tone Loc, a cop? Leslie Nielson in metal? Heh. Brilliantly bad!) but overall it sucked. The writing was horrendous, with most of the lines not only being clunky, but on the whole just way over the top surfer-dude-ish to be good. This movie is proof positive why I'm glad Ernie Reyes Sr. has decided to run his chain of martial art studios here in the bay area and has not decided to pursue an acting career full time. Can you say wooden? Somewhere, up in the redwoods of of this fine state of mine, there's a big ole tree going "Yeah that'll do Mr. Reyes Sr. Sir. You're giving us a bad name." But somehow Robbie boy was a bright spot. No, I'm not sure how either. I mean "Moto-surf". Really? But the second he came out in a wheel chair, effecting the most horrible scottish accent, I couldn't help but laugh.

But Judge Dredd? Dear Lord God! There is just, there are no words for how craptacular that movie is. Anyone involved with that POS should have had their SAG cards revoked. And Mr. Schnieder Sir, if you are not only in one but two of Mr. Stallone's more horrid offerings, your card should not only have been revoked, but you should have been walked out of Hollywood, barred from ever coming back. But did that stop you? No! You kept coming back, with even more horrible offerings. The affore Mentioned Deuce Bigelow and Deuce Bigelow sequel, the former of which I have seen, the later which I have not, because I have learned from my mistakes. You apparantly have not, because: The Animal. Also, The Hot Chick.

And sadly, I wish I could say that it's just his career that's becoming regrettable, but somehow it seems to have passed onto his wardrobe lately as well. I mean, have you seen him? I mean, is he trying to become the wee version of Lorenzo Lamas? What is the deal with the suede vest anyway.

So, in conclusion, Robbie boy's career is quite regrettable, but thankfully his body of work is quite avoidable. That is, until the next time Fighting Nun decides to turn the channel to something else he's in that makes me wanna rip my hair out...

Twelve Things I Realized After Seeing X-Men III

1. I'm impossibly slow on the uptake. Like impossibly slow. I don't want to ruin it for everybody, but the scene? At the end of the credits? Lost me for a good five minutes until?
   
   Bloody Munchkin: Huh? I don't get it.
   Fighting Nun: Because the guy, in that one scene!
   Bloody Munchkin: What do you mean?
   Fighting Nun: *Whispers in ear*
   Bloody Munchkin: Really?
   Fighting Nun: *Rolls Eyes* Yes really!
   Bloody Munchkin: Dude! Dude! That like... Whoa.
   
2. Out of all the hairstyles they could've given Aaron Stanford, they chose the absolutely worst one for his face. The bad peroxide job? The bad cross between "The Spike" and a pompedor? Not working for him. He was so cute in Tadpole. He deserved better than that. So did his hair.
   
3. The Kid? Still freaks me out. I caught a snippet of Birth on cable the other day, and I just shuddered the whole time. I mean seriously. I can't put my finger on why, but he's just freaky, and he seems to chose roles meant to freak me out. In fact I'm gonna go as far as saying he should've gotten the part in The Omen. He was robbed! Also, *shudder*.
   
4. I can't divorce Ben Foster from his role in Six Feet Under. I like Ben Foster. I even sat through the atrocious teen movie he did with Kiersten Dunst. I cringed when they removed all his piercings in The Punisher. So it saddens me to say that I still see him as the namby-pamby ineffectual, getting-it-on-with-his-teacher bisexual. Sorry Ben, you deserve better. I'll try and work on that. Also, you needed more work in this movie... Also, also, what is with the hair? Talk about Pompedor...
   
5. I seem to love movies where I can go, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, It's that guy!" and I can place exactly what else he's been in, or even name him. It's one of my few talents in life.
   
6. "Don't you know who I am? I'm the Juggernaut bitch!"Might just become the new line I use in traffic. I've been using "Sack Up Ho" with wild abandon in traffic, so it's time to add to my repetoire of phrases to use in traffic, right alongside "On Your SIDE, Snore-y Feldman" (long story) and "Get Behind me Satan!"
   
7. Arclight is probably the most androgynous person I have ever seen in a movie ever. Like, not since looking at a picture of the lead singer from AFI has the "Is it a really affeminate boy or a really ugly-mannish looking girl?" quandry been so hard to solve. Like seriously.
   
8. So you've just been electrified by a combination of lightening and falling backward on a generator. Apparantly the thing that sizzles most, if not the only thing on your persons that sizzles, is your chin piercing. Not your hair. Not your skin, or your clothes. Just you chin piercing. Apparantly all those informative lectures that I had to sit through when I was growing by the power company were wrong. Interesting.
   
9. Dude, Mystique's character lasted a totally of like five minutes in this movie. I did not see that one coming.
   
10. The scene with the younger Magneto and younger Xavier? Really bad make-up job yo. I mean seriously. Like scary with the de-age-ifying. Ian McKellen does not unage well is what I'm saying.
    
11. Can I just say, that if you insist on putting a memorial up in the front lawn of all the members you lost, you're gonna run out of room in your lawn quick. Why couldn't you just put an urn up on the fireplace like any other self-respecting, God-fearing family.
    
12. Wolverine and The Beast are still battling it out in my brain for who has the best hairstyle. I'm saying, the blue? Good look for Kelsey.

The Coreys

I know I'm mental, but this article just filled me with glee. The Coreys? On my tv screen? Again? And I'm not watching The Lost Boys? I'm just so happy! And the reason I'm happy is not because I had a crush on these guys growing up, because I can categorically tell you, that boat came and left the dock by the time I was able to have real meaningful crushes. No, the reason I'm happy about this, is that the two of them are utter train wrecks. The drug problems, the sexual addiction, the scores of bad movies made during and after the drug problems. Whatever it was that happened to Corey Haim's teeth. That awesome episode of Greg The Bunny that "The Feldster" saw fit to do, in which he gets clubbed by the cops. They are so utterly bad, they're good. Which is why I watched season 1 of The Surreal Life (The Feldster can not catch a ball to save his life by the way). And is the exact reason I would watch this show. That and, well I tend to watch a lot of crap on tv. Have I mentioned that before?

Bloated Stars

I saw this article this morning, and immediately three thoughts popped into my head:

1. It's not "The Bloat" it's "The Spread" and it happens sometimes. Sometimes people get over it. It happens.

2. Luke Wilson DOES NOT look that bad. Leave the poor man alone.

3. I don't think that before the bloat pictures actually exist for the lesser (only career-wise, because if you're on a list of blated celebs, it sure ain't literal) Baldwin Brothers because I think their bloat is perpetual and all encompassing. Isn't pointing out said perpetual bloat, like kicking someone when they're down???

Stop the Simon Cowell Pandemic

So I realize I'm about a season too late to jump on the bandwagon, if there is a bandwagon to jump on, but Hell's Kitchen? I kinda love it you guys. I kind of knew about it last summer, but I guess I never watched it. Last night, as I was trying to find something to entertain me in between innings, I found Hell's Kitchen. And. It. Is. Awesome. At first I couldn't really care. The main chef guy? Was grading how they cut meat. Grading. How. They. Cut. Meat. Snore. But then I turned it back for the Dinner Service, which was probably the best thing ever. "You, Mophead! What're you doing?" and "They're all a bunch of muppets." had Fighting Nun and I affecting a snooty English tone and repeating the phrases over and over again.

But it got me thinking. What the hell is with the influx of British Assholes invading my TV? First it was Simon Cowell. Which, with the first seasons of American Idol, was easy enough to avoid, but then he started producing every freaking thing and then it's like all the sudden it snooty Brit with, and I'm sure this is on some casting sheet somewhere, "biting wit" and a penchant for telling people they suck suddenly became a hot commodity. How the hell did this happen? It's not like us Americans don't have ready supply of jerkwads willing to insult people. I mean attending any sports event in an arena will tell you that we have plenty. And I mean plenty. And it's not like England is just overrun with snooty assholes, I'm sure they have their share, but I've watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Professor Giles was cool. Anthony Stewart Head, in all his incarnations, from the guy who made Taster's Choice kinda sexy to the Awesome Giles, is not an Asshole. There have to be more of 'em where he came from.

So what's with the influx of British Ragewads on my TV? Really? I'm dying to know. I mean, I can think of a handful of them right now. Simon, the snooty guy on American Inventor, the other snooty guy on So You Think You Can Dance.There's a snooty, but slightly hot, but still very snooty guy on America's Next Top Model. I think there was even a snooty guy on Dancing with The Stars, but I can't totally recall because I could only watch it for like two minutes before my eyes threatened to explode. The funny part is that, with exception of this guy on Hell's Kitchen, none of them are really all that entertaining. It they were more like they guy on Hell's Kitchen, I might give "America's Got Top Dance Idol" or whatever the hell a chance. But I'm telling you, if the next show involving a panel has another Damned Snooty English Asshole, I'm going to go postal.

I'm calling this trend, or what I really think happens to be a pandemic, The Simon Cowell Pandemic or SCP for short.

Won't you please put a stop to the pandemic? Won't you think of the children???