June 2006
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Awesome Movie Review: The Pink Panther
Okay idiots, it’s pop quiz time:
Are you amused by bad and inconsistent French accents?
Do you enjoy seeing Steve Martin stuff his face into a woman’s crotch, allegedly for comedic effect?
Do you think Beyonce can act?
Is it funny when Steve Martin is trying to perform the Heimlich maneuver on a woman, but he’s doing it in such a fashion that it would appear to Jean Reno that he’s actually having rough sex with the woman?
Do you never get tired of the same joke repeated over and over and over again?
Are Viagra jokes still funny?
Do you want to see Steve Martin electrocute his own crotch, once again for allegedly comedic purposes?
Are you willing to believe that all of Paris slopes downhill, thus allowing for a large globe to continually harm random bystanders?
Is it funny when Steve Martin’s electrocuted crotch is still steaming in the next scene?
I ♥ Abortions
There’s been a lot of stuff I’ve considered blogging about recently, but nothing worthy of an entire post. I start writing something, then decide to download porn or try to give myself a heatstroke instead. Getting heatstroke is harder than you think. Anyway, here are a few topics I started to blog about before other priorities interfered.
David Faustino: I had a dream the other night where someone was yelling, “If I want David Faustino, I’ll get David Faustino!” And last night there was a David Faustino reference on the 6:30 showing of The Simpsons. Coincidence? Probably.
A Shameful Admission
I have been watching soccer. Lots of it. Willingly. I feel so dirty. To make matters worse, I’m actually enjoying the soccer. Even though it’s just a bunch of prettyboy douchebags who style their hair before playing sports running up and down the pitch without really accomplishing much more than kicking the ball over the goal, I’ve been enthralled. I can’t turn it off. I get myself some brownies and Kool-Aid, plop down in Osama Bin Loungin’ and cheer for the Koreans in their silly pink uniforms. I just can’t help myself.
Awesome Movie Review: Capote
I don’t care for biopics. 97% of people aren’t worth knowing. And of the 3% worth knowing, few are exciting and dynamic as me. Sure there is the upper echelon of humanity, consisting of people like Ichiro!, Morrissey, Vin Diesel and Christopher Lee, but even the majority of the 3% of the people worth knowing aren’t worth sitting and watching a movie about. I don’t care about what kind of drugs Ray Charles used. I don’t care about the relationship between Johnny Cash and his dumb skank hausfrau. Why should I care about the random historical trivia associated with their lives? Would they care that I spent an afternoon eating hamburgers and watching baseball, waiting for my grandparents to awaken from their naps and stumble confused and befuddled into the living room? I doubt it. I mean, Johnny Cash and Ray Charles are dead. I don’t see them rising from the grave to hang out with me at my grandparents’ house.
Awesome Movie Review: Spymate
2. a. Inspiring dread or reverence; awe-inspiring; terrible, formidable; awful; to be dreaded.
3. In a weakened sense, applied to objects exciting fear or aversion. In mod. colloquial use often a strong intensive = Exceedingly bad, great long, etc. Cf. awful, horrid.
That’s how the Oxford English Dictionary defines ‘dreadful’. Both definitions apply to the dreadful film Spymate. Spymate is an abomination. It tries to pass of a horrific plot (a highly trained monkey is a secret agent who saves the world from evil scientist Richard Kind(Richard Kind?)) as a cute family film. Nothing could be further from the truth. Spymate sugar coats the greatest threat modern civilization faces: violent monkeys.
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