Wuss v. Wuss

When a man is pushed to his limits by inbred townies what is the best solution? Hot grease and bear traps of course! I love me a good home invasion movie. There is something inherently fascinating about the tension that is created by the reluctant hero/homeowner and whatever lunatic(s) are outside, divided by only by a wall, a door, or god help us gigantic bay windows.

Last night I watched Straw Dogs, both the 1971 and 2011 versions, with the pure intent of doing a compare and contrast. As with any remake, there were a lot of haters, as many critics hail the original Straw Dogs starring Dustin Hoffman as “groundbreaking.”  Yes groundbreaking for its time, but since then the outright cruelty and violence that once made Straw dogs unique is now common fare in most thriller and horror genre movies. I am not mad that this movie was remade, mostly because characters modifications needed to be made to make the meat of story seem more believable.

The two movies are extremely similar, with identically dialogue in many places as well as “artistic edits.” The main differences are location, (1971 small town England v. 2011 small town south Mississippi), the likeability/strength of the female lead (1971 Susan George’s Amy v. 2011 Kate Bosworth’s Amy) and the length/intensity of the final battle (1971 drawn out and bloody v.  2011 shorter but more chaos).

It is easy to make the argument that it is a total cop out to use “hillbillies” as your villain, as it has already been perfected in movies like Deliverance and over the top is movies like The Hills Have Eyes and Wrong Turn. However, the “hillbillies” in the 2011 version are not the inbred slop of horror movies, but rather Rednecks with feelings and drinking problems. They seem to care about each other and the town as a whole who all regular engage in the two best things small town Mississippi has to offer, high school football and church. In the 1971 version the townies are all poor, illiterate rat catchers. Nothing really defines the town or why they care about each other so much, other than drinks at the pub, in 1971 I can’t see why everyone is friends, they look like strangers to each other v. 2011 where I can see the friendship and why they would stick together in a bind. While both location settings had their merit, it was who the characters interacted in the setting that the 2011 version pulled ahead. Alexander Skarsgard’s Charlie (Eric from True Blood, yummm soooooo hoooooot) seemed much more menacing and conflicted and engaged in the movie more than Del Henney’s Charlie who only really seemed to become the villain after the rape scene. I was wary of Skarsgard way before the rape.

I’m sorry but didn’t women get all empowered n’ shit in the 60’s? I would have thought by 1971 that we could maybe stop the whole subservient thing but apparently not. In the 71’ version Susan George portrays Amy as a childish, clueless bored housewife and perhaps that was the whole point; to make the character of David and his transformation from mild mannered mathematician to bad ass mother fucker seem more drastic by juxtaposing him with weaker mate. James Marsden (I think he is an underrated actor) in the 2011 version does not need a whining companion to show his transformation, if anything I think Kate Bosworth’s portrayal of Amy as strong willed but also vulnerable through being ignored by David goes along much better with all the other characters in the film, the two main characters in 11’ rely on each other more to survive and that is more admirable in the long run.. While both rape scenes are brutal (well not actually that brutal if you have seen Irreversible) the 11’ version actually shows you how cruel the “villains” are v. 71’ which is almost has the character of Amy bordering on Stockholm syndrome, just saying'.

Overall the final scene where the angry townies overrun the house are the same except for length and the amount of fight David puts up. Obviously in the remake the hand to hand complete feels a little more choreographed but it cuts to the chase faster with more fire hazards, something I am not sure I was that fond of but it sure beat out Amy’s whining and protesting to help David in the 71’ version.

 Both were good but for different reasons. It’s hard to remake something that had a stronger association and gave a sucker punch to a certain era and it’s always easy to replace your villain with Eric from True Blood.

‘Tis it? 5 Truly Annoying Christmas Things

I’m not a Grinch, a Scrooge, or a so called “Debbie Downer” when it comes to Christmas. I own 1 Christmas music CD, I have a tree up, I like to go look at lights, hell this year I even made cookies, they looked like reindeer shit, but hey there were delightful! Along with the awesome things just previously mentioned come the ugly. Below is a list of things I, and maybe even some of you, could do without around the holidays…

1)    

  The Universal Excuse:  You know that Christmas Carol that has that lyric, “Tis’ the Season to be Jolly, fa la la etc..” I don’t when it happened or why  it happened but one day some jackass decided to insert this song lyric into situations in attempt to be cheeky and ended up turning one annoying Christmas carol into one of the shittiest holiday excuses I have ever heard.

“Oh dear, I forgot to put the figgy pudding in the oven, oh well, tis’ the season!”

“Sorry, I needed that parking space more than you did. Tis’ the season!”

“Oh that was YOUR dog I ran over? Tis’ the season!”

Really everyone? Tis’ it?

2)      “I Can Get Closer”:  No you can’t. I understand that getting that parking spot closest to the entrance feels great, “Wow now I don’t need to walk those extra 20 feet,” You think to yourself. During December parking lots are nightmares, and you are just making it worse by parking your ass in the middle of the isle waiting with your turn signal on while Mertyl unloads her loot into the back of her Champagne colored Cadillac sedan. Did you know that are 13 cars behind you? Of course not because you are in parking spot denial. Just go to where the spots are…in BFE. I’m sure we could all use a little extra physical activity around this time of year anyway.

3)      Winter “Space” Entitlement:  Yeah I know it’s REALLY HARD to decide between the regular and the low sodium chicken broth…I realize that this is probably your first time making a “big boy” dinner for your family but it still does give you the right to endlessly block products that others might need as well. This problem leaks to the most random of places…like the gym, hats off the asshat that continues to use the machine that makes peoples’ ears bleed all because he is too lazy to find another  one and rationalizes, “who cares I have headphones!” Just stay home and eat Fiddle Faddle you fat prick because those 15 minutes you spent on the treadmill won’t help your entitlement problem or your love handles.

4)      Commercials That Change the Lyrics of Christmas Carols: Way to ruin classic tunes with consumeristic trash  TV(yeah I just made that word up, so what!)! It’s not bad enough that they start up holiday songs the day after Thanksgiving and play them in every god damn store you walk into, you get to hear “I’m dreaming of 50% off!” rather  than “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.” T-Mobile is the biggest offender of truly tasteless holiday adds. First off, the T-mobile girl is a total rip off of “the Mac guy.” Second, it utilizes the truly awful holiday tradition of exploiting midgets, expect these guys are all dressed in silver and pink singing about Smart phones and 4G….BARF…Listen you advertisement producing buttholes, the only thing Santa’s elves make are toys that you can stuff or toys you can carve out of wood.

5)      Ugly Sweater Parties:  I admit, I own what one might consider, “an Ugly Christmas Sweater.” However I made mine, and I hardly consider it ugly, I mean, I lovingly sewed gay snowmen onto a plain old boring green sweatshirt. However, I feel like what was once a great way to make fun of 50 year old school teachers that get laid once every two years, polygamists, Grandmas and really out of touch stay at home moms is not nearly as interesting nor surprising as it used to be. At this point we all know what an ugly Christmas Sweater is supposed to look like, gaudy holiday scenarios involving poof balls, glitter yarn and snowmen and Santas with “crazy eyes”. There used to be a uniqueness to wearing theses atrocities, because it only happened once a year. But now it has become as common as bums on Burnside. Ugly x-mas sweaters lost their magic the day that the hipster population stated wearing just generally ugly sweaters all year long, sometimes with even uglier ones underneath the original. It became cool to wear ugly shit and irony took the place of laughing at lopsided snowman and gigantic teddy bears on lime green wool. Damn you hipsters!!! First you ruin fedoras and moccasins and now Christmas parties? Jesus…

Have Fun in That Stooopid Brunch Line

I, like the many many people of Portland, don’t really feel like cooking breakfast the day after I stayed up too lake making bad decisions on behalf of my liver and making people cringe at my forgettable karaoke version of Hall and Oates “Private Eyes” (which in finally out of my head now thanks to my horrific rendition…nothing says never again like public embarrassment).

However, UNLIKE the many many people of Portland I don’t feel like waiting in a line longer than the one at Space Mountain at Disney Land just so I can have an equally hung over waiter check in with my table once, and have that douche at the table situated WAY TOO CLOSE to mine talk as loudly as he can about the bullshit c minus he got on his Buddhist art class term paper. Yes I know Screen Door has awesome southern inspired food that includes candied bacon and that Pine State has a fried chicken biscuit creation that is makes your mouth water (The Reggie), or that Cricket Café has a mean Monte Cristo…when I am hungry which is usually first thing in the morning, the last thing I want to do is prolong the experience of sipping a bad ass bloody mary and shoveling butter saturated eggs and glistening maple bacon into my mouth. That is why I am naming my new favorite brunch place, Sckavones.

Sckavones is used to be an old soda shop back in the day and evidence of the buildings history as well as the city of Portland are all hanging on the walls in the form of black and white photographs. The space feels nostalgic and the best part is there is never a wait, at least when I have gone at prime time brunch time, 10-11. While there are tables set out in the open, the majority of the seating is spacious booths nestled against two walls. The menu is not overwhelming, which is great because who doesn’t have a hard time picking out breakfast when your mouth still tastes like last night’s nightcap? Their omelets are packed with the ingredients advertised, their eggs benedicts is delightful and the bloody mary? Completely up to par with my high standards, plus there is even a BM bar where you can shove the whole garden in your pint glass if it pleases you. Another thing I enjoy about this brunch place is they have a bevy of games to play while you wait at the table eating your complementary mini scones. I personally like to practice my Jeopardy skills, the game is so old the picture of Alex Trebek still has him sporting his mustache and “S&P” feathered hair. Your table is checked on frequently and the waitresses don’t treat you like you just murdered their cat with your gas guzzling Prius. The food is not OMG to die for, but seriously people it really just comes down to some bacon, eggs, potatoes and cheese, and this place does not fuck those breakfast staples up. There are even willing to make substitutions. When I noticed Gruyere on one item I got that shit subbed in for boring ol’ chedder, no tude, no questions asked, the waitress even came by to make sure my omelet had gruyere in it! Amazing!

So next time you wake up and you realize you would rather chew glass then life a finger  to cook, go support a sweet ass joint that does not make you wait out in the cold and drink decaf because that is the only  thing left in their pity coffee airpots.

Sckavones- 4100 SE Division St.

RENTAL MANIA!

Okay, I have been sick and it has been effen cold which means a lot of movies. Here is a brief rundown of what sucks, what semi-sucks and what is not so sucky at all.

The Change-Up: I wanted to see  this because I wanted to see Bateman and Reynolds impersonate each other. What I got were some not believable poop-jokes, and gratuitous cursing.  Normally I like poop jokes and cursing but in this movie it was like they put their hands in a hat full of gross-out clichés just so they could make “Rated R Freaky Friday.” This movie went on WAY too long. It truly felt like Titanic except the only thing sinking was Jason Bateman’s ability to play anything different than unhappy young executive. RATING: Sucks

The Devil’s Double: I think Dominic Cooper is a fantastic young talent and I can’t wait to see him in more movies. Here he plays two characters, Uday Hussein and his Body double Latif Yahia. I was very fascinated by the premise of this movie and not just that it was based on a true story. I thought Cooper did an amazing job and the content/events of the movie were mostly true based Yahia's book of the same name. However the movie ended abruptly and without a badass ending, something  I would expect to be the product of a generally  bad ass movie. The film also suffered consistency problems with regard to the “horribleness” of Uday. If you are going to call him the worst human being ever, than beef up the horrible. This was mostly due to the fault of Cooper, he certainly did portray him as a manic sociopath but it was perhaps a little too giddy for my tastes, still and excellent job on his part thought. RATING: Semi-sucks.

Friends with Benefits: This unfortunately came out after No Strings Attached, you know “That other movie about being jaded and single.”  Honestly I wish I could tell you that one is better than the other. The premise is exactly the same but in Friends with Benefits I like that the dialogue was a bit wittier and funny but I hated that the main characters' jobs were working at a magazine in New York City, the most played out young professionals role in romantic comedy history ( 13 going on 30, Devil Wears Prada, 27 Dresses blah blah blah etc…) Kunis and Timberlake took a while to find their chemistry but overall I like Timberlake better as a person than Ashton Kutcher. This film was good for zoning out and being doped up on cold meds. RATING: Semi-sucks.

Red State: In case none of you know this, Kevin Smith (you know Clerks? Mallrats?) made a horror movie. It is another social commentary on religion like Dogma. However rather than take aim at one religion ( you know Christianity) as he did in Dogma this movie takes aim at the Westboro Baptist Church (you know those assholes that picket dead soldiers funerals?). It is actually rather slow and the dialogue not as snappy and funny as you would expect. In fact this movie watched more like a Tarantino flick than a Smith flick. This is not to say I did not like it. I was very engrossed the whole time and enjoyed how the move and character focus shifted. Great performance from John Goodman. RATING: Not so sucky at all.

Cowboys and Aliens:  I have not decided if I am cool with genre mixing at such a high extreme yet. I hate that this movie thinks it is the only one to mix a Western with Sci-Fi, please see West World circa 1970’s for awesomeness of this breed. Cowboys and Aliens started out as a good western and it probably should have just stayed a western. The aliens were not as cheesy CGI as they could have been and  I appreciate Jon Favreau as a director and his want to preserves some aspects of classic film making. However toward the end it just got to be too much. The Indians were comically stereotyped, Harrison Ford did his usually “grumpy looking actor face” and Olivia Wilde’s character was thrown in just to have a hot chick around, the film could have done fine without her. I really did enjoy Daniel Craig and Sam Rockwell, their opposite characters and how they interacted with the supporting cast was a nice backdrop to all the unnecessary explosions. I guess I can’t bitch too much, what would one expect from a movie simply called Cowboys and Aliens? RATING:  Semi-Sucks.

Why TLC is The Best Thing For Your Ego

I used to have cable. It was awesome. Now I have You Tube. It is more awesome because it just showcases the “best” of what is happening on cable. I have known  for awhile now that the network calling itself, The Learning Channel (TLC) is anything but substantial material worth learning. What it does teach you is to how to NOT be a number of things and in that process allows you to self reflect, “Jesus Christ at least I’m not that person!” Below is a list of 20 things on TLC, or as I will now call it Train wrecks Living out Craziness, that you should be thankful you are not. If you are I’m sure they are accepting application for a new show, probably called, “I didn’t know I was a 1,000 pound man with triplets addicted to eating soup cans.”

1)      Carrying around your husband’s ashes, and then eating them

2)      Bound by god to reproduce yearly until you have 20 children

3)      Bound to your bed because you are 600+ pounds

4)      Pregnant, but did not know you were until you went to take a dump in the middle of the woods.

5)      Can’t stop eating cheesy potatoes and have only been eating cheesy potatoes for 30 years.

6)      Taking 250 laxatives a day

7)      Can’t resist the urge to eat dryer sheets wrapped up in toilet paper

8)      Spend 8 hours a day couponing so that you have get a sweet ass deal on 500 tampons

9)      Can’t walk through your living room because you just can’t throw away that TV guide from 1998 and those garbage bags filled with empty plastic Easter eggs

10)   Are neglected by your husband so you spend all your time making your 3 year old look like a hooker

11)   Bound by god to be wife #4  and if you drink caffeine or alcohol you will explode

12)    Are a New Jersey Gypsy with a diet coke and salon problem (aren’t gypsies nomadic?)

13)   Have an enlarged liver because you can’t stop wolfing down  plastic cocktail swords and water bottles

14)   Can’t throw away the cat poop because it fills the void your Dad filled when he was alive

15)   Getting kicked out of Fred Meyers because other people need to buy hamburger helper besides you

16)   Bath in bleach because it smells so dang good and makes you pure

17)   Are so vain you are only getting married for the wedding dress ,  because you will actually never love someone as much as you love yourself

18)   Bound by god to have awful polygamist hair

19)   Love the fact that you moonlight as an adult baby, mostly so you can piss yourself

20)   Take away your daughters pageant trophies because that blue ribbon for excellence in math you got in high school just does not cut it anymore.

He Has the Schwartz

I have always enjoyed Jason Schwartzman’s subtle acting style. One of Director Wes Anderson’s stock players he has showcased his acting chops in movies like, Rushmore, his breakout role and more recently in HBO’s Bored to Death. In the past few weeks I have discovered two things, one being Board to Death and the other being Schwartzman’s one man band called Coconut Records. While I’m sure many of you already know the joys of Bored to Death or maybe Coconut Records, this is for those who don’t have HBO nor knowledge of good shows that never get the publicity they deserve.

Board to Death starts out typical, Schwartzman plays jilted boyfriend who gets all emo, questions life, and whines about writers block. The twist is that he picks up a copy of a Raymond Chandler novel and decides that in his spare time he will moonlight as a private investigator, unlicensed of course.  While Schwartzman is great as Jonathan Ames, his character only really becomes unique through his supporting cast. Ted Danson plays George, Jonathan’s boss at a generic version of GQ magazine. Danson is essentially doing Alec Baldwin’s Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock but not as confident. Jack Donaghy is not as reliant on Liz Lemon as George is on Jonathan. In fact their relationship is a type of role reversal of a father and son, with George constantly calling Jonathan for help for all sorts of kooky occurrences, one being where he asks Jonathan to punch him in the face so his gigantic herpes sore does looks more like the result of a fight than unfortunate sexual encounter. The other is Zack Galifinakis as Ray, his best friend who is in a weird co-dependent relationship with his girlfriend that involves him constantly indirectly asking for sex. His banter with Jonathan is priceless, “What do you mean you don’t know what a falcon hood is?” Jonathan’s moonlighting as a private detective allows for other characters to supplement the chemistry between the leads and explore what  are probably things real people would call a private detective for (Not all crime is a glorious and ridiculous as portrayed on  CSI: NY CSI: DES MOINES CSI: FARGO etc..). The running time is perfect, a half hour time slot. An hour might be a stretch for the content but damn, I could watch those characters interact for a while.

I came across Coconut Records on the Yeasayer Pandora station one day. The song was West Coast and it was effen amazing. It made me feel nostalgic, happy and glad to have come across a great new band. I instantly created Coconut Records Pandora station which continued to play excellent songs that reminded me of summers past.  A song’s hook, and or chorus if you will are very important, but so is that occasional point in a song that is lightly completely different from the rest of it and this band had it down. I decided to investigate the bands origin on Wikipedia only to find out that it was just Jason Schwartzman.  “Really? Just him?” I was in shock but was able to instantly create a new found respect for that short actor in all the Wes Anderson movies. There are currently two albums out, his first outing, Nighttiming and the newer, Davy. If you looking for some new music check out Coconut Records, they totes have “The Schwartz.”

Moopets and Vampires

Double feature Sunday! After eating and drinking myself silly for all of Thursday and Friday and not being able to lounge out in front of a movie, I was pining for the big screen, luckily for me it was two movies for the price of one day at the theater (this deal does not actually exist btw…) I treated myself to the Breaking Dawn and The Muppets:

Breaking Dawn Part 1:

I read all the books, so I’m pretty obligated now to see all the movies and get all judgey on their ass.  The Twilight series has been building sexual tension between Edward and Bella for three books and three movies. In typical lame religious fashion the two have been waiting to do it until marriage and in even lamer fashion, author Stephanie Meyer gave us a super lame sex scene in the book which resulted in a totally fucking lame sex scene in the movie.  For all you male boob hounds out there, I will say this, I totally caught sight of an editing error involving Kristen Stewart’s nipple (ladies you can use this information to get him to come to the movie with you!).The whole movie was pretty uneventful mostly because the first part of the book is uneventful. Edward and Bella go on their honeymoon, they do romantic stuff, Bella looks pained to do typically girl stuff and Edward gets all butt hurt that he had “rough sex” with Bella that results in a demon baby that ends up turning Bella into what looks like, well super effen gross and malnourished (great job FX department!). Apparently the birth scene is giving epileptic audience members seizures due to flashing red and black and white lights (great job demon baby!). Over all, the movie was what I expected, a lot of brooding eyebrows and one cray cray wolf fight that involved voice over, “I’m Alpha male! Don’t betray the pack!” The second part of Breaking Dawn due out next year in November will be much more eventful bringing back our pals the Volturi and even more Wolf v. Vampire fun. Hopefully…

The Muppets:

Oh how I have missed thee! I love the Muppets, always have, always will. Around Christmas time when people are watching A Christmas Story for the 100^th time I will be singing along to A Muppet Christmas Carol which is the bees knees. If you have not seen it you better hop on Netflix or go support your local video store and rent it. The newest installment in Muppetdom is Jason Segal’s love baby, The Muppets. Co-written and starring Segal , is the story of a Muppet named Walter who loves the Muppets so much, he can’t bear to have an evil oil tycoon take over the Muppets theater (the one where they did the Muppet Show of days past) and implores Kermit to get the gang back together. Antics ensue but not in an over the top spastic ADD way which is what I see whenever I stumble across a new cartoon on cable. The antics are genuine and come at the right moments. The celebrity cameos where okay, I was looking for maybe some more big names to kind of give it that “hey look who it is!” factor but toward the end all I could think was “Selena Gomez? Really?”  Chris Cooper’s villain was comic book evil which I know is what they were probably shooting for and I loved Jack Black’s part mostly because it added to that lunatic feeling one gets before performing a live show.  You know you have hit it big time when you have a tribute band and the Muppets get “The Moopets,” a hilarious group of imposters that consist of what I can only assume is a transvestite pig as Miss Piggy, an Eminem type  as Fozzie and Dave Grohl as Animal. It’s rad. To my surprise the children in the theater were calm and focused on the movie, an unheard of thing in a movie theater these days but it just goes to show you that nothing keeps you entertained quite like the Muppets.

I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost

I must say it had been awhile since I have written a rant about the habits of the human male (10 years to be exact , VHS one acts 4 eva!). Since that time I have expanded my knowledge of the human male and though I have formed many  unfavorable opinions, *cough telephone etiquette cough* I have also formed many wonderful friendships and in doing so have come to a better understanding of (sometimes) what is going on in the male brain.  However, despite my many revelations there is ONE thing I will NEVER understand and it will continue to baffle me and I’m sure many other females for centuries to come.

The Poltergeist Effect : Inability to shut cabinet doors and/or push in drawers.

It does not matter what room, though I suspect the kitchen is the most frequented place of this offense, nor does it matter what environment, a man will open something up and instantly forget that he has opened it as soon as he averts his eyes elsewhere.  I will walk into room after (insert male figure here; dad, bf, roommate) has cooked something, only to find what appears to be a “Haunting in Portland.”

Cabinet doors are thrown open, drawers are barely hanging on…As I wonder into the kitchen wondering if the stove is going to explode from being left on too long, I hit my shin on the dishwasher door which has been lowered. I fall forward but catch myself, narrowly escaping stabbing myself on a knife poking out from the silverware rack in the upward direction. “Hello is…is..anybody there?” I ask worried. I start to worry whether or not I need to order an exorcism before the evidence surfaces, empty pizza boxes, a dirty pizza cutter and beer cans sitting right next to the trash can but not actually in it, it all makes sense now. I turn off the oven off and the running water in the sink, “Phew thank god I don’t need to call that priest!”

This effect carries over to the bathroom, with the most notable offence ever, the up toilet seat which most of the time I don’t mind unless there is pee on the floor (yes I know it’s SO hard to pee with morning wood, NEWSFLASH its harder to have crime scene in your pants once a month so try a little harder to aim boys).  

“Where are the car keys?” Asks male.

“Did you check the open refrigerator?” Responds female.

“Have you seen my socks?”

“Did you look in the open microwave?”

 Ah men…

Duggers Expecting Child Number 20: China Outraged!

As the sun sets on the Dugger property child number 16 looks threw his window, then down at his fingers which are bleeding as a result of being forced to practice his guitar for the family band for 15 hours straight. “My dad says god loves my music and will smite me if I do not practice.”

Just another end of another day at the Dugger Household where it was announced earlier this week that the family is expecting their 20^th child. “I could not be happier,” said the proud mother, “Now we can move 3 kids from Laundry duty out the gravel mines to chip rock for our landscape remodel in the backyard. All this money we get from TLC has sure been a blessing.”

A blessing indeed, but not for all. Members of China’s Overpopulation Commission met as soon as the news as announced. CFP Ming Yung Tong made this statement earlier today at a press junket for the Organization.

“We once again shake our head at America. As many countries struggle with overpopulation and ways to feed those that cannot feed themselves we would like to send a message to the United States. For the love of fucking god please don’t give people who don’t believe in birth control television shows. I mean wasn’t the last one born with its heart outside its body?”

The Dugger’s 19^th child was born pre-mature and was in infant ICU for weeks before   it was released back to the Duggers who then immediately set the infant up with doggie poop pick up detail.

“Everyone needs to help out.” Says Dad as he shoves Kid #1 and Kid # 4 down into the basement to clean out black widow nests. As we turn the corner into the kitchen, Kid # 10 is hovered over the sink, hands red and puckered. “How long have you been doing this?” I ask.  As she turns her head she tearfully whispers to me. “Get out while you still can!”

When Mrs. Dugger was asked if she expects a boy or a girl she laughed as she replied, “I hope God just does not let this one slip out of my vagina too early and that has all her limbs intact..We  have a big attic remodel coming up and need all the  helping hands we can get.”

Why Gregory Peck? WHY!?!

For those of you that don’t know I’m kind of a nerd when it comes to certain actors and writers. The movie, Beloved Infidel (1959) combines two of my favorites, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gregory Peck. This movie should be IT for me, my raison d’etre, but unfortunately after a viewing last night my heart sunk as Gregory Peck paraded around like a butt hurt 11 year old after dodge ball and Deborah Kerr sounded like the most stuffy 90 year old British nanny (I think my ears bled a little).  The film centers around Fitzgerald’s 3 year relationship with Hollywood gossip columnist Sheilah Graham (his death marked the end of their relationship). He carried on with Graham while Zelda was institutionalized and it was during this time that Fitzgerald was trying his hand at screen writing while attempting to finish his last novel. The film was based on a book by Graham who would later go on to write two more books about her relationship with Fitzgerald.  The following are my 2 main problems with a movie that I think needs to be remade without the constraints of 1960’s censorship.

1: There is a huge difference between portraying an alcoholic and someone who is “just drunk.” More often than not, alcoholics are high functioning (as was in Fitzgerald’s case).  When not in social situations (parties) they will try hard not to let on that they are totally shit faced. Fitzgerald was known for his socializing and drinking though I hardly think he would walking through an airport swinging around a bottle of tequila as was shown in the film. Peck played Fitzgerald as a drunk not an alcoholic. There are perfectly good examples of alcoholics on film from Leaving Las Vegas to The Lost Weekend, both of which (I think) showed an accurate version a man on the verge of collapse, something Fitzgerald was as he tried  to get his writing career back on track. The over the top drunken antics coupled by Kerr’s over the top reaction, “Oh Darling, No! Oh Darling, stop! Put the bottle down Scott!” was too much for me and I felt like I was wafting through a stinky Douglas Sirk reject.

2: Fitzgerald it 10x more interesting than Graham and should have been the main focus of the story. Yes I know the story was by her originally, but the only reason she was able to get it published in the first place is because her lover WAS Fitzgerald. Graham was the 3^rd and probably most lame member of the Hollywood gossip columnist trio that also contained Louella Parsons. The story focuses on how Fitzgerald helps her become a better writer rather than focus on both their faults and how, potentially, the combination of the two could result in a glorious fucking meltdown.  I wanted to see more struggle with Fitzgerald, particularly his ongoing depression over Zelda despite the fact that he is seeing Graham. I’m still enraged over the fact that the last part of The Last Tycoon was ghost written by one of Fitzgerald’s editors and I have a sneaking suspicion that Graham had something to do with it.

Over all I guess what I’m trying to say is I want a REAL Fitzgerald bio movie, not a bit part as was seen in Midnight in Paris or for another remake of The Great Gatsby, but an honest to god kick ass picture, hold the Sheila Graham.

Twice is Plenty

Well, it’s safe to say I was extremely unproductive this weekend mostly due to a little thing called, “day-drinking.” On the surface day drinking is awesome. Your beverage selection is tip top, Bloody Marys, Mimosa, Greyhounds, Various coffee/liquor concoctions. Day drinking says, “What? It’s the weekend, I do what I want sucka!” Those familiar with day drinking are also very familiar with the pre-mature hang-over. You get home, grab a bottle of water, and flop on the couch mumble something along the lines of “I feel like shit.” You look over at the clock and its 4pm. “What the? Four?”

This Saturday I went to The Farm House on 82^nd. Twice. Once for Brunch and once for Linner (please don’t mistake the frequency with as strong like for the food fare and environment). This was due to day filled with kickball spectatorship of which heckling would be necessary and Mimosas and Blight (Bud-Light) a steady accomplice. The Farm House is great for Brunch if you don’t want to wait in one of Portland’s re-fucking-diculous brunch lines. It’s got greasy good, stiff drinks and lots of other interesting  supporting characters playing video poker (by themselves), pool (by themselves) and/or an unnecessarily large version of some golf game(by themselves). There is a giant ceramic Jack Daniels statue by the fireplace that I once mistook for Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe they are brothers from another mother….

Brunch was standard fare of one biscuit (ahem, DINNER ROLL) and gravy with eggs and bacon. I was outraged to not receive my favorite morning beverage (Bloody Mary) in a pint glass but in one of those lame ass bucket glasses of which my waitress assured me was “almost the same amount of liquid.” I smiled and nodded but seriously…message to all bars in Portland...BLOODY MARY IN BUCKET GLASS= TOTAL, UTTER BULLSHIT TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE. Don’t act like it will get you in trouble either, if 90% of bars are doing it, it probably won’t get you in trouble though I think the Farm House’s main concern is giving up to much of the precious Monarch Vodka (gross).

After yelling at my friends all day and watching drunken kickball antics ensue it was back to the Farm House for more (and my car). This time around I treated my kidneys to the saltiest damn French dip sliders ever. When I got home I think I drank coconut water, vitamin water and two bottles of regular water and I was still thirsty. At least my hang over had passed on by 8pm and I was able to watch half of SNL. Thanks Saturday.

Drive Me Into That Sweet Hot Pink Credit Sequence

I finally fulfilled my movie theater dream last night and went to see Drive. It was everything I dreamed of. When the credits rolled I felt like I had truly had an experience. What is also funny is that I immediately thought what people who did not like the movie were probably thinking, “It was too slow! Why don’t we ever get to know his name? Why aren’t they talking more?” What those a-holes probably will never realize that those so-called “bummers” are inherent to the story as a whole.

In typical American short story fashion the movie ends unresolved. Occasionally this bothers me, but in this film it felt completely necessary,  as was the deliberately slow pace, and lack of information which added to the allure of Ryan Goslings character and even more so made you empathize with him when he had one of his moments of emotional breakthrough whether  that be happiness, rage or panic. Once again Ryan Gosling fucking knocks it out of the park. Everything he does is subtle and effortless. The man can do no wrong.

 Rich colors and shadows add to the tense moments. Director Refn utilized slow motion scenes in the film that were punctuated by 80’s synth. The marriage of the two gave those scenes a music video quality, and I say that as a good thing. Just as a music video (sometimes) attempts to make a song come alive so to speak, the music in Drive is its pulse, and it acts as a beautiful buffer to those moments where there is not a lot of dialogue.

The driving sequences and the killing scenes were also masterfully done. I will not give away who dies or how they die but I will say is that I’m so glad the Driver is remorseless. He has to be, otherwise those times when he shows his “softer side” would seem worthless and his character void of any depth.

I guess my only issue was Carrie Mulligan. Her character, Irene, was totally necessary but I did not buy her as that person. All I have to go off of is her performance in An Education, which was wonderful but here her attempt at mousy single(ish) mom needed to pop more in a movie; but one could also argue that she needed to be the beige anchor in the sea to make all the other fish stand out.

A lot of other reviews have said that Drive has noir quality to it and I completely agree. It has the standard elements, the girl that gets everyone in to trouble, the big bad guy, his henchmen and the sidekick to the hero who is just the right amount of quirky. The color added so much to the atmosphere of the film, but I have to admit that I am kinda interested in watching this film is black and white to see if it can hold up to the true characteristic of noir, and that is the noir.

Please go see Drive. But if you were one of those people who went to go see The Tree of Life just because it was “the new Brad Pitt movie,” stay at home and watch Big Momma’s House or some other idiotic crap. Drive is genius.

Nathan Fillion's Smirk Wins Again

I’m pretty sure when Nathan Fillion was handed the script for Castle he creamed his pants a little bit. Like Mathew McConaughey, the man has single handedly nailed down “that one character that kinda works in everything.” I re-watched Serenity last night, one of the few Sci-fi movies I actually enjoy. While snickering at his spot on one-liners, it dawned on me that this is the place( rather firefly) where Fillion perfected his “I’m kinda witty, devil may care, goofy yet slightly handsome” persona that he continued to mold in Slither, Waitress and now in Castle, a show I really want to try to watch but am somehow  severely put off by the overused cop/unlikely partner scenario. However, I am glad Fillion was able to find another TV vehicle after the cancellation of Firefly.

Just now I went to scope out his IMBD profile and the smirk on his face just melted my heart! Damn you Fillion why are you so damn likable! In fact he just upped his likability factor by apparently having a role in a revamp of Much Ado About Nothing. Fillion doing comedic Shakespeare? You’re  killing me Hollywood! Now I have to go see that because I have been entranced by Fillion’s smirk! Shit now I HAVE to watch Castle..shit maybe I’ll just go rent the first season. I’m worried though that this show’s main demographic are ladies over 50 whose other favorite TV fare includes Matlock, Murder She Wrote and Perry Mason…screw it I want to see Fillion and McConaughey in a smirk off..Fillion would totally win.

Fight Scenario:

McConaughey: “Screw you Fillion I do serious shit! I do period pieces and lawyer roles!”

Fillion: “BFD! You can’t even smirk in roles like that!

McConaughey: “Hell yes I can! Didn’t you see my sweet ass smirk in A Time to Kill?”

Fillion:” No I didn’t see that shit cause I was too busy being bas ass on the set of Firefly!”

McConaughey: “Well I make more money!”

Fillion: “Well I have longer arms and I don’t let photographers take pictures of me doing Tai Chi on the beach with my shirt off!”

McConaughey: “Well…um..you..

Fillion: “Five words, bitch…Highest…rated…Monday…night….show…

(Fillion smirks hard at McConaughey, McConaughey faints, Fillion victorious)

“Hallie Puts Foot in Kim Kardashian’s Brave Face in First Post-Divorce Public Appearance”

“I’m so sorry that you are going out and being forced to promote you crappy hand bag line!” screamed enraged anti-fan Hallie Zmroczek as she attacked the so-called reality star this Wednesday. The scuffle which broke outside of some important looking place caught Papparazzi and Kim K. fans off guard was just one of many obstacles the “star” would receive that day. A frightened onlooker painted a gruesome picture.

“Yeah this blonde just started yelling things like “get a real job” and “what the fuck are you famous for again?” I was kinda scared but I hate to admit that it’s kinda true.”

Hollywood is pretending to be surprised by the pairs split after only being married 70 something days and wasting tens of millions of dollars on what this reporter deems, “the tackiest god damn wedding I have ever seen in my life.”

Organizations like UNICEF are baffled that media organizations give more press to soul-sucking, brainless yahoos like Kim K. instead of focusing attention on,oh, I don’t know water that is contaminated by viruses and bacteria? Somewhere in Africa Angelina Jolie is throwing a shit fit over what financial analysts care calling, the biggest waste of money in history.

After the crazed anti-fan made her point she rallied the most level headed-people she could, picked up her bullhorn and said, “We are off to E! Studios to picket and demand the removal of Keeping up with the Kardashians from its programming schedule and to kidnap Joel McHale because he is hot!” (insert battle cry here)

Don't Quote Me

Since my brain has decided to function at a low level today I thought I would let other people do the talking.

Enjoy, as I did finding them...

“Tomorrow we may die, so let’s get drunk and make love!” –Lois Long, The New Yorker

“Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.”

–Ernest Hemingway

“Life is essentially a cheat and its conditions are those of defeat; the redeeming things are not happiness and pleasure but the deeper satisfactions that come out of struggle.” –F. Scott Fitzgerald

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”

-Ingrid Bergman

“To succeed with the opposite sex, tell her you're impotent. She can't wait to disprove it.”-Cary Grant

“Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.” –D.H. Lawrence

“By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, journalism keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community.” –Oscar Wilde

“I think I don't regret a single 'excess' of my responsive youth - I only regret, in my chilled age, certain occasions and possibilities I didn't embrace.” –Henry James

Amateur Night (No NOT that type of Amateur Night)

First off, Happy Halloween! Too bad it’s on a Monday…sucky. Amateur Night is something my friend Garron refers to ,mostly pertaining to New Years Eve, but in my case this past Saturday the Amateur Night reference pertained  to my complete inability to ride a 2 ton beach cruiser dressed like Bernie all from SE to NE, loops in NE then all the way back to SE. I had a blast being able to hit four parties in one night and throughout the ride I noticed all the other parties that could have been crashed.

However, I felt like the fat kid in PE...last in line, heaving and tennis grunting up hills. Periodically stopping so that my heart beat would stop pulsating through every limb in my body. I felt like crap making my BF wait up for me…but I had no other choice but to fight threw the impeding heart attack and keep up. I mean hell, I had already pep talked the shit out of myself earlier with choice phrases like “You can do this, it just one night of bike riding!” “You know you will kick yourself if you don’t go!” “You do the elliptical for an hour at the gym, what could a trip to NE do?”

I’ll tell you what it did. Charlie horse times a million, I felt like my knee caps where excreting ooze that was whispering “fuck you Hallie.” The thought of going up or down a flight of stairs was on par with envisioning falling off a cliff in an unsafe car. My bestie was a bottle of IB Profen yesterday and I probably won’t go the gym again, at least until my legs feel like they were not beat up by a bar of soap in a tube sock.

Some of my favorite costumes I saw throughout the night were: Captain Crunch, Wayne and Garth (2 sets!), Amy Winehouse (only because it was being rocked by a large lumberjack type fellow) there was a good Bettleguise, a  Gallagher/watermelon combo and a creation called “zipperface.”

Some of the worst costumes of the night: Slutty beer wench, Slutty cop, Dead Hooker, and pretty much any costume that allowed a girl to use the universal excuse of Halloween to show off their tits and ass and not feel bad about it. However, they should feel bad, because at this point they should know that everyone is on to their little scheme and they should really just cross-dress.  There is so much more pleasure getting that “weirdo look” from men as you shop in their clothing department.  Fake Mustaches are more fun too, but they tickle the shit out of your nose, and in my case even make you sneeze a little. Ah Halloween I love and hate you all at the same time.

When Private Security Goes Horribly Wrong and Daniel Stern’s Lame Activism

Last night’s Halloween double feature were 2 little gems from the 80’s, the best decade for awesomely bad horror movies;  Chopping Mall (1986) and C.H.U.D. (1984). It was fight to the death about what film would be dubbed “less sucky” by Sean, BF and I.  I think in the end  what sucked the most was the popcorn because like the movies, my microwave is also from the 80’s.

Chopping Mall- “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not that used to getting chased around the mall in the middle of the night by killer robots!” Neither am I sweetheart and you probably would not be in this situation if you would’ve moved your make out party to a real house instead of the furniture outlet store in the mall conventionally located next to a shop simply called “Italian.”

Three robots dubbed the “protectors” are commissioned to patrol the mall at night when no one is supposedly there.  Looks like some foolish adults once again underestimated the teenage ability to break rules and totes party hardy wherever they feel like it.

The acting was truly awful and most of the deaths were subpar robot hand chokings. The cover of the box promised me body parts in a shopping bag but alas it never happened. What did happen was robot lasers. Lasers that blew up somebody’s head in front of “The House of Almonds”, another generically named mall kiosk.  It was the best scene in the movie.

The gang has to plot ways to destroy the bots who after killing someone politely say “Have a nice day.” Let’s just say they find a gun store, whip up some Molotov cocktails and play cat and mouse for a good hour before the bots are destroyed and the only person left was the most annoying to begin with. Sweet soundtrack pumped full of ominous synthesizers and radical tunes to underage drink to (although my cohorts thought maybe the victims were a tad on the collage side, great fucking job casting department, NOT!). Over all, Chopping mall won my heart with it’s title and the fact that it was better than..

C.H.U.D.

I don’t know what the fuck this movie was trying to be. Social commentary about public welfare’s treatment of the homeless? John Heard’s photography career? Daniel Stern’s lame attempt to channel an Occupy Portland protester? I just want to see some fuckin’ CHUDS already!

First we get to see a CHUD bite, which looked more like an unattended “Nam” mortar wound except more glisteny. Then we get to see fat politicians and police grumble over what to do about the missing homeless people in the sewer and who acts more like a douche bag.

At one point Daniel Stern gets locked in the sewer and stumbles upon a  CHUD party but it’s not like we get to see them , that privilege is only reserved for Stern, who I kept expecting to get hit with a flying can of paint or two by four with nails a la Home Alone style.

 The coolest scene in the movie  is when a big mean CHUD invades the home of some female character whose purpose in the film was oblivious to me. He comes in, his neck expands, then grows allowing for the girl to decapitate him with a machete she just happened to keep around her house. The blood is green radioactive goo. It is gross. But it was not a head getting shot off by laser beams. Sorry CHUD. Maybe you should have more CHUD sex so there are more CHUD babies so there are more CHUDS in the effen movie next time!

What Would H.P Lovecraft Think?

I’m not sure if it would be “Wiccan Prayer Circle” but I must say I don’t really even know what to think after hanging out at the Lovecraft last night. The Lovecraft is a self-proclaimed “Horror Themed Bar” located on the corner of SE Grand and Oak.

 Let me start out by saying, I never had a Goth phase. Thank god. I had my “wanna be Seattle grunge” phase but I skipped over the black capes and lipstick and coffin shaped purses. I just love horror movies, all different kinds and I  was hoping for an homage to my favorite October fare. Let’s just say I was a tad bit off. This is what I walked into last night:

Not a cool horror movie playing in the background as my naïve self had hoped, but ambient “lost in the woods” monotone music accompanied by a projector screen filled with dead winter branches...I was looking around for the sacrificial lamb.  There in fact was a Wiccan Prayer Circle occurring and I happened to notice the guy who has the steel rods implanted under my head to look more like Satan having a pleasant argument with some gutter punks about Christianity.(Boring! And totally predictable!) Lets talk about how wack Christianity is in a Goth bar? Please that’s more common than hipsters fighting over who hates Mumford and Sons more at the Aalto Lounge. I felt slightly out of place but that did not matter. Most of the time I was engaged with my friend Sean in Horror movie talk. One thing I was surprised to discover last night is that dreadlocks aren’t just for hippies anymore; they are beloved by the Goths too.  

The horror movie nerd in me was excited at the prospect of a bar modeled after some of my favorite type of entertainment and the décor of the place was mostly spot on. Framed photographs or actors that had portrayed Dracula, some vintage H.P Lovecraft posters, skeletal remains of cows and other unfortunate animals and a large mural of a creature straight from the mind of Lovecraft himself. The lighting scheme was abundant with hues of red which complemented the mise en scene.

I was not thrilled by my $6 dollar glass of red wine…when I asked the bartender (who was very pleasant) what type of red; Merlot, Cab.. he responded..”just a blend.” Oookay… At least PBR was only 2 bucks. All I wanted to see was some movie posters and bad Halloween decorations..maybe this place was too sophisticated for me or maybe just a wee bit too Goth.  Can’t say I didn’t try!  I sure did not stay for the show which I got out of paying five bucks for. Wonder what type of show that would have been? Perhaps I just missed out on that sacrificial lamb. Oh fiddlesticks! Maybe next time….or not…sorry Lovecraft.

Please Stop Jogging During Happy Hour and The Great Brake Light Crisis

I have never understood this concept of “urban jogging” otherwise known as “hey pedestrian! Get the fuck out of the way so that I may jog in place at every stoplight and intersection because I can’t find a fucking park or gym to save my life.”

I do advocate exercise. I might even go as far to say joint destroying running is okay.  But there is nothing that ruins that first sip of mojito or ice cold beer  like some b- hole huffing and puffing past your table with that twinkle in his eye that says “loser.”

My first sip of wonderful Pino Noir turns from perfect to self-pity. “Wow maybe I should be exercising instead of sitting on my ass drinking alcohol.” I look down at the happy hour platter of fried delicacies such a freeze dried potatoes and cheese sticks and think to myself “I bet that guy is having tempah and buckwheat for dinner..fuck no wonder that personal trainer at the gym looks at me like a leper!”

I remember when I used to work at Starbucks this group of guys  that I affectionately referred to as “the boys club” would bust in the door at 5 am panting  and sweating  all over the place and get to the resister and have a five-minute conversation amongst themselves that went something like this.. “Gary coffee? Joe coffee? Larry coffee? Roger coffee? Stan coffee?” And they would all ask each other five times...Gary would ask Larry and Larry would ask Stan who would ask Gary again and Gary would ask Joe but mean to ask Stan..

The whole time I’m thinking, “What the fuck did you come in here for? To show all other patrons that you douches just went on a sweet ass jog at 4am? That you are more dedicated than the rest of us?” Get your decaf and move along...this is not a sting operation of Runner’s World to surprise your “gang” that you have all been selected to be on their next cover. I swear today if I saw that same group of guys jog past me sitting outside a bar on a nice day I would yell at them “get off the street and go home and relax al-fucking-ready!”

When did brake light have to start being the size of Christmas hams? Since when did the nice small rounded red light turn into an obnoxious  retina burning bundle of smaller red lights that have more business being  on a light up billboard that on the back end of a car? Some of the worst offenders? Prius and that new Kia SUV model...Seriously I get out of my car and blink and the horrible sight is still in front of my eyelids. I can’t turn away from them  because how will I know when you stop? I am totally that douche now that when I see a Prius trying to merge in front of me I speed up because I want to save my eyes from the blood red strobe light of death. I might have to go to the eye doctor for the first time in my life if you people keep this Prius buying shit up…maybe eye doctor and Toyota are in cahoots with each other.. (In voive of smarmy doctor) “You burn their eyeballs.. they give money to my practice..mwa haha !!”

God Bless Trader Joes and Joseph Gorden-Levitt

As I sit here eating my poor polish farmer lunch of lentils and vodka it makes me nostalgic for the "fraud" dinner I prepared last night. Trader Joe's has solidified itself (at least for me) as the "Best way to Fool your Boyfriend Into Thinking You Are An Awesome Cook" standby. The food chain has fooled many people into thinking that their friends actually know what an appetizer is or that "gluten free bread is the new bubble tea."
 As my sig other sits on the couch uttering phrases such as "smells delightful" I can't help but snicker as I pour a bunch of frozen vegetables and rip open a sauce packet with my bare teeth.
"How did you create such a good sauce?" My boyfriend asks.
" Trader Ming secret dude."
I can't give all the credit to Trader Joe's for a successful meal last night...we must also thank beer NOT from Trader Joe's (Sorry Trader Jose)and the accompanied viewing of a movie titled "Hesher."
Within the  first fifteen minutes I made the assumption that this was going to be one of those slow paced movies where the characters never really say anything that someone would say in real life and you just want to punch them threw the TV when all they say is "okay" after after another persons goes off on a heartfelt rant.
Turns out I was a little pre-mature with my "hatin'" and it was a movie with believable characters who were truly defined by their unremarkability and Joseph Gorden-Levitt's character Hesher exsisitng only to make them visible to each other. This profound speech comes as a metaphor about a missing nut which if you ask me, metaphors don't get any better than that!
The movie has a controlled chaos with likable performances from Natalie Portman as the "nerdy cute stranger" and Rainn Wilson as the "depressed bearded dad."
Every scene in the movie is inhibited by the main character T.J. a boy of about 12. Normally this would piss me off as in many zombie movies when 5 adults "go back to get the kid" like a half of one of them comes back.Loosing 5 characters for 1? Stupid.
T.J. is angsty and has his rights to be that way. But it is his interactions with Hesher that bring him down to a bottom that he needs to be at to see what needs to happen to improve his progress in life.
Best Scene: Hesher has a "pool party."
Back to my lentils.....