Overnight, a weepy Britney Spears (fresh from a grueling hourlong stint in rehab) was videotaped harassing the staff of a tattoo parlor and confiscating the clippers from a stylist to shave her own head bald, all the while while muttering about "people touching her" and acting erratically. What "erratic" means when one is referring to Spears is anyone's guess. The girl let K-Fed stick his you-know in her hoo-ha. Did I mention the Nyquil stains all over her clothing? Well, there. I just did. It's a look!
Still, I'm glad she's found Krishna Consciousness. Hopefully her new career of handing out flowers in the airport will be much more fulfilling than any comeback attempt, and give her the structure and discipline she needs in life. Perhaps she can sit in with the Polyphonic Spree, or go into acting with "The Young Miss Kojak Mysteries" on the Family Channel. The point is, no matter what she does, it has to be an improvement.
Welcome to Rock Bottom, Brits! Population: Dustin Diamond and you.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Completely Useless Movie Previews: Ghost Rider
I have heard your outcry, and decided to give you more of what you want. Heading into this all important blockbuster spring "would-never-succeed-in-the-summer" movie dumping time, you need to know what movies are worth seeing, based on the random guesses of someone totally unfamiliar with the films.
I give you Ghost Rider.
Ghost Rider is apparently the older brother of Speed Racer. By day, he's Nicolas Cage, who is really Nicolas Coppola, but I digress. Ghost Rider, you would think, would be preordained by the name his mother gave him to become some sort of friendly ghost like Casper. Instead his toupee catches fire every night and he rides really fast on a motorcycle in an effort to put out the flames. From what I can tell, this has little effect. Maybe he should keep a fire extinguisher handy, or see a doctor about that?
One clip I saw had Ghost going to a strip-mall accountant to do his taxes. Oh wait, that was a commercial? Man, Ghost is already slumming, and his movie hasn't even come out yet! That's not a good sign. He should really be aiming for those Target ads with the spinning red and white things. Those are classy.
Anyway, Ghost rides around on his bike, his head on fire and the bike itself emitting noxious fumes that would probably bar it from being licensed in California. So the movie doesn't take place in California. Good to know. There are lots of trees around. Does Ghost find excitement and intrigue in Michigan? Who knows? Do you want to pay $11 to find out? Good for you!
I just made a typo and called him "Gjost". I think I'll stick with that spelling. It makes him sound Icelandic, like Bjork. Or Gjost could be his visiting cousin from Scandinavia, and they can have zany Perfect Strangers-style misadventures when Gjost comes to visit. They can be identical cousins and try to trick Ghost's parents into reuniting! Hey, Nicolas! I have a sequel idea for you. Yes, your wig can be even more stupid-looking the second time around. Does Donald Trump have a patent on his hairstyle?
I'm sure Ghost has some sort of archnemesis he must face, but since he or she doesn't appear in any of the commercials, I'm not familiar with them. He probably has to face down a state trooper for a littering fine, or apologize to a little girl after he runs over her puppy on the way to Taco Bell. There's another crossover ad campaign, as Ghost reimburses her for her loss with a three-taco meal deal (crunchy). It could be that talking chihuahua they used to have. They never explained where he went. Was he deported?
On my Mexican-assembled sliding scale of 1 through 88 stars, I give Ghost Rider a three-taco meal deal (crunchy), an extra packet of hot sauce, and a mega-size Mountain Dew to help quench those flames. Pull around to the second window, Mr. Rider, and try not to ignite the speaker box. Timmy just got that thing working again.
I give you Ghost Rider.
Ghost Rider is apparently the older brother of Speed Racer. By day, he's Nicolas Cage, who is really Nicolas Coppola, but I digress. Ghost Rider, you would think, would be preordained by the name his mother gave him to become some sort of friendly ghost like Casper. Instead his toupee catches fire every night and he rides really fast on a motorcycle in an effort to put out the flames. From what I can tell, this has little effect. Maybe he should keep a fire extinguisher handy, or see a doctor about that?
One clip I saw had Ghost going to a strip-mall accountant to do his taxes. Oh wait, that was a commercial? Man, Ghost is already slumming, and his movie hasn't even come out yet! That's not a good sign. He should really be aiming for those Target ads with the spinning red and white things. Those are classy.
Anyway, Ghost rides around on his bike, his head on fire and the bike itself emitting noxious fumes that would probably bar it from being licensed in California. So the movie doesn't take place in California. Good to know. There are lots of trees around. Does Ghost find excitement and intrigue in Michigan? Who knows? Do you want to pay $11 to find out? Good for you!
I just made a typo and called him "Gjost". I think I'll stick with that spelling. It makes him sound Icelandic, like Bjork. Or Gjost could be his visiting cousin from Scandinavia, and they can have zany Perfect Strangers-style misadventures when Gjost comes to visit. They can be identical cousins and try to trick Ghost's parents into reuniting! Hey, Nicolas! I have a sequel idea for you. Yes, your wig can be even more stupid-looking the second time around. Does Donald Trump have a patent on his hairstyle?
I'm sure Ghost has some sort of archnemesis he must face, but since he or she doesn't appear in any of the commercials, I'm not familiar with them. He probably has to face down a state trooper for a littering fine, or apologize to a little girl after he runs over her puppy on the way to Taco Bell. There's another crossover ad campaign, as Ghost reimburses her for her loss with a three-taco meal deal (crunchy). It could be that talking chihuahua they used to have. They never explained where he went. Was he deported?
On my Mexican-assembled sliding scale of 1 through 88 stars, I give Ghost Rider a three-taco meal deal (crunchy), an extra packet of hot sauce, and a mega-size Mountain Dew to help quench those flames. Pull around to the second window, Mr. Rider, and try not to ignite the speaker box. Timmy just got that thing working again.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Completely Useless Movie Previews: Hannibal Rising
Gentle readers, it has been too long since I indulged your need for a completely useless movie preview, based only on the knowledge garnered from a cursory viewing of a movie's trailer. Well, here you go. Don't ever say I don't do anything for you.
Hannibal Rising, from what I gather, is a delightful family film about a young Lithuanian orphan and his struggles to keep his family together during the dark days of World War II. Finally, a film with real family values! Hannibal struggles against all odds to protect his young sister, and later moves to France and takes care of his adoptive Japanese aunt.
This may or may not be a musical. Lots of old-timey movies about children during World War II are musicals. If so, expect excellent production values as a clone of Anthony Hopkins engages in a dance-off aboard the Good Ship Lollipop with Shirley Temple and a couple of the lesser Von Trapp kids.
Anyway, with only the trailer to go by, I've been able to tell that one of the problems facing young Hannibal (or "Hanny", as I'm sure he's called by his school chums) is proper diet. I've seen a lot of Afterschool Specials, and something gives me a hunch that Hanny is dealing with an eating disorder.
It must be a hard-knock life to have to deal with foreign occupation, caring for a younger sibling, and finding good, nutritious food in a war zone, but since the character comes back in several other films, (Silence of the Lambs, for instance, a whimsical fairy tale about sheep learning to use their indoor voices) we know he'll make it through somehow. Never you worry for Hanny, he's good people.
A lot of reviewers, in reviews I haven't read, seem pretty taken aback by the movie. I don't know what their complaints are about, since I haven't seen it and therefore am fully qualified to pass judgment. Maybe they just can't stomach an old-fashioned tale of family togetherness. Maybe the anti-Iraq peaceniks are just offended by any depiction of war, even when it is being fought by the Greatest Generation against the forces of darkness. Hannibal is the exemplar of those brave men and women who saved the world from evil, and for all I care, he could disembowel and feast upon the innards of those who have wronged him, and that still wouldn't taint his good spirit and pure demeanor. But that's crazy talk!
On my patent-pending scale of 1 to 88 stars, with the absolute values of -1 being the minimum and -88 being the maximum, I give Hannibal Rising a nice plate of fava beans (a wartime staple) and the tasty giblets of those who would speak ill against him and the values he represents. We would all do so well as to be as brave as young Hanny.
Hannibal Rising, from what I gather, is a delightful family film about a young Lithuanian orphan and his struggles to keep his family together during the dark days of World War II. Finally, a film with real family values! Hannibal struggles against all odds to protect his young sister, and later moves to France and takes care of his adoptive Japanese aunt.
This may or may not be a musical. Lots of old-timey movies about children during World War II are musicals. If so, expect excellent production values as a clone of Anthony Hopkins engages in a dance-off aboard the Good Ship Lollipop with Shirley Temple and a couple of the lesser Von Trapp kids.
Anyway, with only the trailer to go by, I've been able to tell that one of the problems facing young Hannibal (or "Hanny", as I'm sure he's called by his school chums) is proper diet. I've seen a lot of Afterschool Specials, and something gives me a hunch that Hanny is dealing with an eating disorder.
It must be a hard-knock life to have to deal with foreign occupation, caring for a younger sibling, and finding good, nutritious food in a war zone, but since the character comes back in several other films, (Silence of the Lambs, for instance, a whimsical fairy tale about sheep learning to use their indoor voices) we know he'll make it through somehow. Never you worry for Hanny, he's good people.
A lot of reviewers, in reviews I haven't read, seem pretty taken aback by the movie. I don't know what their complaints are about, since I haven't seen it and therefore am fully qualified to pass judgment. Maybe they just can't stomach an old-fashioned tale of family togetherness. Maybe the anti-Iraq peaceniks are just offended by any depiction of war, even when it is being fought by the Greatest Generation against the forces of darkness. Hannibal is the exemplar of those brave men and women who saved the world from evil, and for all I care, he could disembowel and feast upon the innards of those who have wronged him, and that still wouldn't taint his good spirit and pure demeanor. But that's crazy talk!
On my patent-pending scale of 1 to 88 stars, with the absolute values of -1 being the minimum and -88 being the maximum, I give Hannibal Rising a nice plate of fava beans (a wartime staple) and the tasty giblets of those who would speak ill against him and the values he represents. We would all do so well as to be as brave as young Hanny.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Anna Nicole, W Wish We'd Hardly Known Ye
So, Anna Nicole Smith has shuffled off this mortal coil.
Now come on, seriously, who didn't see this coming? You? In the back? Were you not paying attention during the Train Wreck chapter? Not even during the filmstrip ("When Bimbos Attack", courtesy of the Fox Network)?
Actually, I prefer to think of it as her marrying off to that rich old white guy in the sky. Right now she's like, "Come on, Jesus, wanna watch me dance?" and in a few hours he'll be adding her to his will and giving her his whole inheritance (tablets, arks, all that jazz) and pretty soon will come the inevitable custody and paternity suits over whether her child is really the son of the Son of Man or not. So that's something to look out for in the future.
Do you know who the real loser in this messy affair is? No, not her infant daughter. Sheesh, people. Think of poor TrimSpa! They've been insisting their diet drug is perfectly safe and effective. Now their spokesmodel is dead, and all signs point to an Elvis-esque final visit to the toilet with a mouthful of pills. Faster than you can say "Phen-Fen," these people are going to be out of business.
Who are the winners? Well, the field is wide open for America's Next Top Crusty Aging Chihuahua-toting Bimbo Sweetheart. Will it be Tara Reid? Paris Hilton? My money's on Britney. As the only one of the three who spent her day denying rumors of lesbian heroin orgies, I think she's off to an excellent start.
Now come on, seriously, who didn't see this coming? You? In the back? Were you not paying attention during the Train Wreck chapter? Not even during the filmstrip ("When Bimbos Attack", courtesy of the Fox Network)?
Actually, I prefer to think of it as her marrying off to that rich old white guy in the sky. Right now she's like, "Come on, Jesus, wanna watch me dance?" and in a few hours he'll be adding her to his will and giving her his whole inheritance (tablets, arks, all that jazz) and pretty soon will come the inevitable custody and paternity suits over whether her child is really the son of the Son of Man or not. So that's something to look out for in the future.
Do you know who the real loser in this messy affair is? No, not her infant daughter. Sheesh, people. Think of poor TrimSpa! They've been insisting their diet drug is perfectly safe and effective. Now their spokesmodel is dead, and all signs point to an Elvis-esque final visit to the toilet with a mouthful of pills. Faster than you can say "Phen-Fen," these people are going to be out of business.
Who are the winners? Well, the field is wide open for America's Next Top Crusty Aging Chihuahua-toting Bimbo Sweetheart. Will it be Tara Reid? Paris Hilton? My money's on Britney. As the only one of the three who spent her day denying rumors of lesbian heroin orgies, I think she's off to an excellent start.
Friday, February 2, 2007
Harry Potter and the Horse of Ill Repute
Oh, Daniel Radcliffe. All grown up and doing your very first naked horse-sex play. Cherish this time, Danny, when the world was new, and horse-sex was still fresh and exciting. It will get tiresome after a while, and you'll grow jaded and move on to porcupines. But it won't be the same. Cherish, Danny, cherish.
So Radcliffe has taken a role in Equus, playing a horse-fetishizing, hairy-tummied stableboy. We're not sure if this is a break from Harry Potter, since we've never seen Harry's tummy. Middle America (in the western hemisphere of Middle Earth) is shocked and appalled that he'd do such a thing. That's the sort of behavior that you keep on the down-low, behind the barn.
I see one flaw in this play. The horse is pretty much a silent partner in all of this. Granted, in general porn dialogue leaves something to be desired (even if all other desires are fulfilled) but I'd think it'd be creepy for one half of the pairing to be totally silent, not even a whinny of approval.
The only way to solve this is to recruit Mr. Ed.
Ed, if I may call him by his first name, could infuse the character of the horse with real gravitas, pathos, and his famous catchphrase, "WILLLLLLBURRRRRRRRRR!"
And that wouldn't distract from the story at all.
Maybe throw in some hobbit sex, too. Know your audience, Danny.
So Radcliffe has taken a role in Equus, playing a horse-fetishizing, hairy-tummied stableboy. We're not sure if this is a break from Harry Potter, since we've never seen Harry's tummy. Middle America (in the western hemisphere of Middle Earth) is shocked and appalled that he'd do such a thing. That's the sort of behavior that you keep on the down-low, behind the barn.
I see one flaw in this play. The horse is pretty much a silent partner in all of this. Granted, in general porn dialogue leaves something to be desired (even if all other desires are fulfilled) but I'd think it'd be creepy for one half of the pairing to be totally silent, not even a whinny of approval.
The only way to solve this is to recruit Mr. Ed.
Ed, if I may call him by his first name, could infuse the character of the horse with real gravitas, pathos, and his famous catchphrase, "WILLLLLLBURRRRRRRRRR!"
And that wouldn't distract from the story at all.
Maybe throw in some hobbit sex, too. Know your audience, Danny.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
