The Noisettes

I don’t know what it is, but I like it. They’re playing at Coachella, so I’ll get to take a closer look.

US Weekly Kills Me Inside

This is something I wrote for a Film Studies class this term. The topic for the week was the Hollywood Star system.

Film Studies
Week 3 Response

For a long time, my attitude toward movie stars and their legions of devoted worshippers has been one of unwavering disgust. Every time I catch myself glancing at the gossip rags at the grocery store checkout, I can almost feel a few brain cells committing suicide in protest at the sleazy pandering of the filthy rich. “Look at me! Look at me! Love me or hate me, but just talk to your friends about me!” I get bewildered when I see someone actually buy, actually hand over perfectly good money for, this cover to cover advertising.

This week’s unit on the stars of the screen brought to the surface a piece of knowledge I usually keep buried deep down inside of me. Celebrity gossip is an effective marketing strategy. Capitalism makes me feel so dirty sometimes. Why does business have to be so shameless? Reading about the studios’ tactic of setting up dates between stars just to photograph and sell them reminded me of the reason the E! Network exists. It creates “buzz”. I hate that.

Like it or not, though, celebrity smut is here to stay. Let’s face it: movie stars are products. A cool trailer only gets a movie so far. Pretty much everyone knows all the best parts are in the commercial anyway. We all went to There’s Something About Mary. We learned a valuable lesson that day. Sometimes things are best left to the imagination. Stars are what really keep us coming. That’s what people are lining up to see. I’m pretty sure that after the American people spent a collective $80,197,993 (movieweb.com) to see Jack Black in Nacho Libre we can close the case on that.

winter is delightful.

Some snow would be nice.

And the question of the hour is….

This is something personal to me. Something for you all to ponder while I decide exactly which viewpoint to take on my upcoming diatribe on porcupine sex. Yes porcu- fuck, just don’t worry about it yet. That something important is about to happen, is all you need to know right now.

And in the meantime………

What’s beneath my scrotum??? Hair Vietnamese refugees Forsaken drugs Pictures of Andy Dick Teardrop tattoo Tickets to a cruise aboard the S.S. Blonde Colin Farrel More scrotum Nirvanna bootleg cassette Zachary Evenson The juice of one lemon    Free polls from Pollhost.com

Take your time now…

I can’t even come up with a headline for this thing.

Here’s something I came across online today. It’s the worlds largest digging machine. This is better than the movies. Can you dig it? Yeah, I know. But I had to say that.

(taken from http://www.swapmeetdave.com/Humor/Workshop/Trencher.htm)

The Passion of the Clerks.

Yeah, I had to see it. Skepticism ran high but curiosity trumped low expectations and I found myself downloading Clerks 2. (My female companion had as much intrest in going to the theater with me to see a sequel to a low budget 90’s gem as I have in joining her in a 5 hours long evening with the dvd reissue of Gone With the Wind. And I love sleeping.)

So this morning I woke up early, fixed myself a spanish coffee and got down to business. The outcome? I feel surprisingly good. And the movie wasn’t bad either. Naturally I had to expect stupid, if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be a true fan of the original, would I? And I got what I planned on. In a good way, though. Even at my age I really do enjoy watching a bondage clad bouncer-ish guy fucking a donkey in the dining room of a fast food joint. Some things never change. And after all, as Randal himself says, “What’s the point of having an internet connection if you’re not using it to look at weird fucked up pictures of dirty sex you’ll never have yourself?”