MAY '04 ARCHIVE

5/24/04

“Like every man of sense and good feeling, I abominate work.” --- Aldous Huxley

CAN YOU STILL SAY “PUSS IN BOOTS” IN A KID’S MOVIE

Shrek 2 opens at huge at number one and the first question is why was I there? I mean, like many critics, I didn’t care for the first one and never understood why so many did. It had a great trailer, but failed to follow through. Not to mention, I’m neither a Cameron Diaz or Mike Meyers fan, so why was I there? Eddie Murphy. As “Donkey” he was the bright spot of that film and as far as I’m concerned carried it on his back. But I didn’t go back just for him. I went back because Antonio Banderas promised to contribute much of the same as Puss In Boots, and he does, essentially giving his same Zorro performance, because it was hardly dramatic. I have to admit, Cameron Diaz and Mike Meyers are essentially given the job of straight men here so everyone else around them can have fun, so it’s not entirely their fault, but she was only funny with cum in her hair and his Scottish thing peaked in So I Married An Axe Murderer. I actually wasn’t sure who this film is for, as it gives me the satire the first one never quite delivered, but that’s not really for kids. The first only had the attack on Disney and the only other good jokes (outside of Donkey) were the jokes about the fairy tale characters and the modern reference jokes. Well, someone noticed that and they deliver in spades, because the movie truly kicks into high gear when The Big Bad Wolf, The Three Blind Mice, The Gingerbread Man (back from the first film with a hysterical sight gag of his legs reattached to his body thanks to icing) and Pinocchio return to the storyline to help out. Also along for the ride is Jennifer Saunders as The Fairy Godmother, Rupert Everett as her son, Prince Charming, John Cleese as The King and in a bit of perfect casting, Julie Andrews as his wife, The Queen. But still, this really isn’t for the kids. Neither are the jokes about Starbucks, E! (here it’s “ME” Medieval Television, but Joan Rivers is still there because, well, she’s that fucking old) or The Fairy Godmother doing Michelle Pfeiffer’s red dress number from The Fabulous Baker Boys (a lousy, overrated movie thankfully forgotten by most and never seen by others). Not to mention dozens of throwaway one-liners and a reference to freaking Blazing Saddles! Probably the only joke they may get is the parody of the Beauty and the Beast dancing furniture number, but even the jokes in that (one referring to getting a guy with tight buns) seem over their heads. But this is why it made so much money. Adults actually went with their kids to see it. An annoying couple sat right next to me (the row was empty, but they felt the need to sit right fucking next to me) and they were child-free.

ROD IRONBALLS WAS ANOTHER CHOICE

Troy is down to number two and they re-ran the made-for-TV version this weekend so I had to watch it. Well, some of it anyway. And I stand corrected. There were gods in this. In the first ten minutes we see Hera, Aphrodite and Athena asking Paris (where he’s supposed to be, tending sheep in the hills) to choose between them. Also, Helen is acknowledged as the daughter of Zeus. There’s also a Cassandra, who is so demented it makes sense no one believes her. But that’s it. Achilles (who’s an ugly bald guy) and Agamemnon (done well by Rufus Sewell) are friends, Trojans are obnoxious people who treat the shepherds like shit and Hector is a bit of an asshole whose attempts to get Paris killed actually leads to him meeting Helen. All wrong. And it’s not Agamemnon who rapes Helen (in front of Menelaus, who is being held back by guards), it’s actually Cassandra who gets raped by Lesser Ajax. Oddly, even though the fate of the Trojan women was to become concubines, the Greek warriors frowned on this and he left because of it. On his way back, Lesser Ajax was shipwrecked and was so stupid he bragged of his survival ability. Poseidon didn’t care for this and threw his ass back into the sea where he drowned. But they do have the death of Agamemnon by Clytemnestra, even though it happens in Troy and she has no lover. Still, it’s a very good scene. Again, two actors who didn’t seem to know they were in a piece of shit. And yes, you’re going to get the actual stories of the Trojan War until this movie falls off the top ten. But back in the movie, it seems pretty boy Orlando Bloom had reservations about playing Paris because he’s a bit of a pussy (in the duel with Menelaus he crawls back to Hector for salvation, whereas in the Iliad it’s Venus who saves him). Um, it’s called ACTING! And if you were concerned about being perceived as a pussy, why is your name ORLANDO BLOOM!?! That’s a far cry from “Dirk Steeldick” (my dad’s original name for me before mom made him change it). Yeah, you’re gonna have a long career with an attitude like that. Then again, Tom Cruise can’t seem to play a weakling, so maybe it works if you’re just good-looking with limited acting skills, so keep on keeping on…Orlando.

WHEN YOU CAN’T WRITE BETTER THAN A TRANSSEXUAL GEEK…

Van Helsing is down to number three and at $100M it hasn’t even made budget yet. And to think, they kept the sets in storage in Prague for hopes of making a series related somehow to the series, but not necessarily about Van Helsing. Oh, yeah. That makes sense. No wonder this fucking thing failed. The minds behind it were so busy thinking about how to milk the franchise (there’s a direct-to-video animated prequel), that they forgot to make something decent to build upon. I swear there’s a period of no less than thirty minutes in this film where the plot does not advance one iota. How is that possible!?! Even in an action film that’s bad. Hell, Matrix Revolutions has two actions sequences that take up about the same about of time (Neo on the stairs, Trinity and Morpheus on the highway), but by the end of those scenes the status quo of the film is different. And this is not a movie praised for its excellent writing or limited use of CGI.

IN THE PARLANCE OF MY PEOPLE, SHE’S “THICK”

Mean Girls is down to number four and there are rumors about Lindsay Lohan having breast implants, which leads me to believe that the geeks who worked on the school paper and later became journalists are no different from my geeks and had even less contact with girls, because who doesn’t know that it’s virtually impossible for a girl to look the same at 17 as she did at 16 or 15. And have they seen the rest of Lindsay Lohan’s body? It’s hard to avoid because the girl likes showing it off, but she ain’t no toothpick. She’s got the thighs and ass proportional to a pair of breasts like that---which will irrevocably to an eating disorder as her star ascends. Can you say, Christina Ricci?

STALLONE MAY BE BIGGER BUT WHO’S BEEN IN THE TOP TEN TWICE THIS YEAR?

My god, how the hell is Man on Fire still here at number five? Is there nothing else to see? Granted, Troy took in more money that movies 3-10 combined, but still… And wandering around in the back of this film is Rachel Ticotin who must have one of the best agents in the world because she never, ever stops working. And I don’t just mean in anything either. She constantly turns up in the back of A-list productions and she’s been around forever. Anyone remember her as the lover of “aging-even-then” film legend, Paul Newman in Fort Apache The Bronx? She was also in Something’s Gotta Give. To me, the high point of Total Recall was her fight with Sharon Stone, which should have been much longer---with clothing being ripped off. Don’t ask me why men like watching women fight as much as we like watching them have sex. We just do. I’m sure there’s some Darwinist hard wiring which explains it all, but that’s mitigated by the fact they have to be hot. Roseanne versus Rosie O’Donnell does nothing for me.

YOU WANT GOOD-LOOKING OR SEXY? YOU CAN’T HAVE BOTH. I’M PROOF.

Breakin’ All The Rules is down one notch to number six and why isn’t Morris Chestnut a bigger star? Yeah, he’s kinda short for a leading man (he says he’s 6’2”, but if that’s the scale we’re going by, I’m six feet), but so is Wesley Snipes and Morris Chestnut is much, much better looking. I think it’s because he’s kinda bland. Even fugly Wesley Snipes has a kind of simmering sex appeal, whereas Morris is just kinda blandly good looking. Like a soap star. He should try and get a soap job or a prime time series while he’s still young enough. I mean, supporting Taye Diggs is one thing, but when you have to support Jamie Foxx in a freaking romantic comedy. where you should be the lead, you might want to think about securing yourself financially.

THE REST

13 Going on 30 is down to number seven followed by New York Minute at number eight and Kill Bill Vol. 2 at number nine.

I’M LOVING IT…AS IT SLOWLY KILLS ME

Finally, Super Size Me enters the top ten at number ten and in case you’ve had your head under a rock for the last six months, the war in Iraq isn’t going well and this guy made a documentary about how he ate only McDonald’s for a month and the debilitating effects it had on his body. While I’ve no doubt McDonald’s is total shit (as witnessed by the incredibly brief time it takes for your body to shit it out), this is like making a movie about how smoking a lot is bad for you. Who really doesn’t know this? And who would actually eat this much food from McDonalds? I’m no stranger to fast food for lunch, but none of us likes to eat the same thing day-after-day-after-day. And the consumption of fast food for lunch usually results in guilty semi-healthy dinner or lunch the next day. In any case, this is why I’ll never see this. If you’re so fucking stupid you don’t know that eating this shit every day can literally kill you, then you deserve to die. It’s Darwin at its finest. Stupid people eat it, stupid people die, McDonald’s suffers the loss of customers and either evolves its menu (as it’s currently doing) or it dies itself. That works for me. But, honestly? Just thinking about it makes me want some of their fries right now.

BEER BATTER. VODKA PENNE. WHAT NEXT, GIN SALAD?

So this weekend was the great coconut shrimp experiment (I also taught myself Quarkexpress, but so what). It involves an actual beer batter, which I’ve never done. Now, we’ve all seen this on a bar food menu at sometime or another but what it means is that you’re essentially replacing the water in a mix with beer. So you make the batter with beer, dip the shrimp, roll the shrimp in coconut and then deep fry it (I was going to make the orange marmalade dipping sauce when I realized it would be cheaper to simply buy it). Okay, so I’m not really built for deep frying with my little pan (note to self: wear more than shorts and tank top when working with hot oil), so there was plenty of splatter and poor drainage when it was done, but I think it turned out okay. I lured Around The Way Girl to my apartment with the promise of this and while normally I only serve women such dishes in the hopes of procuring sex, I told her I’d accept ice cream in place of it. Most specifically, this new type of Ben & Jerry’s I just discovered, which is strawberry cheesecake ice cream with strawberries and a swirl of graham cracker. Yeah, baby. I’ll take that over booty almost any day. Sadly, she could only find the Hagen Daaz version of it, but it was hot and I didn’t feel like getting sweaty, so I still accepted it over sex. Around The Way Girl needs to spend time with my family and just learn how to directly deal her brutally honest criticisms, because this passive-aggressive stuff is actually meaner. It’s better to say, “I don’t think it worked” than “It’s better that I can do” when you just told me that you think your cooking sucks. Much in the same way her telling me my Christmas Box paint job was ugly was better than hearing her say, “I could never have sex in here.” See, you can only get away with that shit when you’re good looking. Ugly people get their asses kicked. Trust me on this one. Still, she ate her fair share, so it must not have been too bad for a first time. I’ll try it again, but I may cough up the dough for the pre-peeled shrimp, because an hour ripping off the legs and de-veining over a pound of shrimp was more than enough for me. There are things I won’t do even for sex, likewise there are things I won’t do even for food. Ah, who am I kidding. I’ll do anything for the right cheese.

IF YOU LOVE ME, BABY, YOU WON’T MAKE ME WORKOUT

And I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: my yoga instructor is very, very easy on the eyes. This Sunday was very special as it bore witness to some very, very complimentary and accentuating exercise pants. Sigh. I guess this means I’ll keep getting up on Sunday mornings. The irony of this is, if I was actually dating her, there’s no way in the world I’d be doing this.

RICH MAN, POOR MAN, BEGGAR MAN, THIEF---DEATH WANTS YOU ALL

Death has slowed down a bit, but if you were ever famous, it’s still coming for you. John Whitehead, who co-wrote songs (with Gene McFadden) like “For The Love of Money” “The Backstabbers” as well as his own hit “Ain’t No Stopping Us Now” and was a vital part of TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia) back in the 70’s was shot to death (he was only 55). Alan King, who should have died years ago simply to spare us all his presence, finally succumbed to the cancer he’d been courting through most of his smoking life. And finally, Tony Randall died, which actually does make me sad, even though the man was 84 and married to a woman 50 years younger than himself who bore him two kids in the last seven years. Hell, it’s a miracle he lasted this long. And why isn’t Jack Klugman (another cancer boy) dead? I mean, death pretty much ripped his throat out but he’s still around. How unfair. It’s not him I’m going to miss seeing on Letterman.

NO I’M NOT THREATENED. I’D ACTUALLY HAVE TO CARE ABOUT YOUR ORGASM TO BE THREATENED.

Finally, I’ve known some enlightened and sexually independent women in my time, so I know the sound of a vibrator (remember my adventures with the Doc Johnson mini-massager?). Apparently not many other men do and the women around them are too embarrassed to say anything, otherwise they would have made the sound of that Oral B vibrating flosser a little bit different. Every time I hear that commercial in the background, a very vivid memory pops into my mind and disrupts me for a good half hour. You know who you are.

5/17/04

“God forgives the sin of gluttony.” --- Catalan Proverb

FOR WHOM THE GODS DESTROY, THEY FIRST MAKE HOKEY MOVIES

Troy opens at number one and I share the complaint of millions of others: where are the fucking gods? This story doesn’t exist without the gods. It’s fucking started by the gods. Making a movie about The Trojan War without them is like making a movie about Moneypenny with no James Bond. Like making a movie about Lois Lane with no Superman. And even if you take out the gods, how about half the fucking story is missing too!?! And the changes, oh god, the changes. Hector kills Menelaus and Ajax, both of who survive him in the Iliad? No, Ajax commits suicide when he doesn’t get the armor of Achilles, who does kill Hector. Not to mention Menelaus actually gets Helen back in the end. Okay, if you don’t know the story of the Trojan War then I truly pity the educational system of this country. I’m not saying you need to have read the fucking Iliad (god knows I didn’t) but you should know something beyond the goddamn horse. Basically, it’s this: after Eris, the goddess of strife and companion to Ares, god of war, wasn’t invited to the wedding of Peleus (one of Jason’s Argonauts) and she lived up to her name by throwing a golden apple into the wedding inscribed with the words “To The Fairest.” Aphrodite, Athena and Hera all went for it and demanded Zeus choose. Knowing it was his ass, Zeus passed the buck to Paris, a prince of Troy in exile because it was foretold he would be its destruction. All the goddesses offered him gifts, but Aphrodite offered him beauty and any woman he wanted so he gave the apple to her. She then helped him get Helen of Sparta, a woman so beautiful, not only did Theseus (the guy who killed the minatour) take her once when she was still just a child, but her wedding only took place when all her suitors agreed that, whomever she chose, they would support him (this plan was hatched by Odysseus, by the way). Oh, and Helen was technically a demi-god, being the child of Zeus and Leda (she was the one he nailed while disguised as a swan). In any case, because of the oath, all the kings of Greece who’d sworn to support Menelaus had to support him and his brother, Agamemnon, in their war to get her back. Fighting with them was the greatest warrior, Achilles, whose father was the aforementioned Peleus, whose wedding negligence started all this. His mother, Thetis, however , was a Nereid, a sea goddess. At one point she abandoned him and his father chose a centaur to help raise him. It was the centaur who dipped him in the river Styx, thereby making him invulnerable except for that ankle. Now, you know the rest, right? Well, I hope so, because this movie gets it all wrong. Aside from the gods being removed. Agamemnon is painted as some power mad king. Fine, but if you’re going to make him the bad guy, why leave out that he sacrificed his own daughter to the gods so he could make it to the war? Well, he tried to. He offended Artemis and was told only by sacrificing his daughter would he be forgiven. Artemis then spirited her away at the last second, letting him only think he’d murdered his child. Yes, the Greek Gods were bastards. All the more reason you need them in this story. Also missing is his true fate. Because there is no Cassandra here (the woman cursed by Apollo with the gift of prophecies that no one would believe), he doesn’t take her home to then be murdered by his wife, Clymestra, and her new lover (which is the subject of one of the most famous Greek tragedies). And what’s with the casting? Making Paris young and beautiful (Orlando Bloom) and making Menelaus not so young and not so beautiful severely lessens his crime of taking another man’s wife. Not to mention she had a daughter by Menelaus. At least Hector and Achilles are both good looking. And Sean Bean showing up as Odysseus was also a treat. I’m glad they at least kept Achilles as a petulant bastard), who won’t fight at one point and drags Hector’s corpse around behind him after killing him---until the king of Troy begs for his son’s body back (Achilles’ son, Neoptolemus, isn’t in this film, but was even more a bastard and after dad’s death, kills Hector’s father, kills Hector’s infant son and takes Hector’s wife as a concubine). Eric Bana is the doomed Hector and is served much better here than in The Hulk last year. This might actually make him a star now. And while I do like Brad Pitt as an actor, he knows his talents are limited, which is why this movie is filled with scenes of him getting dressed and undressed. The odd thing is, despite all that’s wrong with this movie, I didn’t hate it. Probably because I was prepared by the even worse TV version that came on last year, which also left out the gods. Low expectations are everything, boys and girls.

FEED MY FRANKENSTEIN

Down to number two is Van Helsing and the most inspired bit about this movie is the opening, which is in black & white and consists of the villagers storming Dr. Frankenstein’s castle with torches. And it’s Frankenstein’s monster, goddamnit, not Frankenstein! This was such a problem that when they made Son of Frankenstein back in the 30’s, there was a scene were Frankenstein’s son bitched about the morons who called the monster “Frankenstein.” In fact, the portrayal of The Monster is the best thing about this movie and obviously deserved one of its own. It’s like no one told the actor he was in a big CGI piece of shit that Hugh Jackman’s agents talked him into for the money and above-the-title starring line. Why Kate Beckinsale is here I’ll never know. God knows her own little vampire franchise is so much better. But marrying her director was a huge, huge mistake. As My Dealer’s Wife said to me, “Just how many times has this worked out?” At the time I couldn’t think of any, but Joel Coen and the great Frances McDormand are still kicking and he got her an Oscar. But given that Beckinsale dumped her companion of years and father of her daughter for this guy, I get the feeling she’s not the horse to bet on for the long term.

THEY’RE ALL CUTE WHEN THEY’RE YOUNG

Mean Girls is down to number three and while I was never a fan of Party of Five I did see Lost In Space (one of the bad movies I like) and Lacey Chabert had an odd kind of cuteness to her, with those big eyes like those kids in those weird paintings from the 70’s, by Margaret Keane. Too bad it all but vanished when she grew up.

I HAVE A DREAM THAT ONE DAY “BLACK COMEDY” WILL ONLY REFER TO MOVIES ABOUT DEATH

Breakin’ The Rules opens at number four and is it is possible for a comedy with a predominantly Black cast to not open with a thumping beat and the first word in the song be “Yeeeah!” Is this at all fucking possible!?! Why don’t they just flash on the screen “You Are Now About To Watch A Movie Filled With Niggas!” because that would be just as fucking subtle. And what’s with dropping the “G” from the title? Does that somehow make it more “Black”? More street? Because, as we all know, Black people haven’t exactly mastered the English language. I mean, isn’t Jamie Foxx’s fucking face on the poster clue enough it’s ethnic? My indignation over this aside, this actually wasn’t a bad 90 minutes. Jamie Foxx manages to keep all the things about him that I hate under control long enough to create a sympathetic, intelligent character who creates a handbook on how to dump someone properly because his fiancée leaves him just as his boss asks him to research a way to fire people. In fact, what makes this work is that none of the people in the movie are stupid. They may be vain and self-involved, but they have brains. Even the subplots about mistaken identity don’t last very long because the characters are too smart for it. Still, I would have preferred a better looking lead. Sorry, but Jamie Foxx ain’t the best looking man in the world and those baby dreads aren’t helping him. Nor is being cast alongside Morris Chestnut, Gabrielle Union and one of my personal favorites, Jennifer Esposito, who hooks up with the aforementioned Chestnut, thus allowing me to indulge her by proxy. Not since Gregory Hines had both Debra Messing and Annette O’Toole as love interests have I been so pleased. And I’ll be even more pleased when she does her first nude scene with later this year. Too bad it has to be with Don Cheadle, whom I like as an actor, but don’t want to see nekkid. Man, did she play it wrong. Doing a love scene with Don Cheadle and not with Morris Chestnut? That’s like doing a nude scene with Judi Densch and not Angelina Jolie. One is a considerably better actor, but you’re not doing Shakespeare here. It’s all about the pretty, people.

AT LEAST THAT FREAKING DOG ISN’T WITH HIM THIS TIME

Man on Fire is down to number five and Mickey Rourke makes an appearance here as---surprise!---a sleazy lawyer. Lo, how the mighty have fallen. Though in his case it was jumping off a cliff, hitting bottom and then tunneling. To see Diner, Body Heat, even 9 1/2 Weeks, is to see a criminal waste of charisma and talent. But I have to admit, it was fun reading about him and his eating-disorder, heroin addicted (but lovely) wife, Carre Otis in their mutual spiral of self-destruction. But the sad thing is, he still has…something going for him. He’s one of those people who needs a Quentin Tarantino to take an interest in him.

GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVEN; BAD GIRLS GO EVERYWHERE ELSE

13 Going On 30 is down to number six and I’m somewhat pleased that the darker Mean Girls has done better even though it was released a week later. Hell, even Big, the movie this is ripping off had a bittersweet ending. This one (which I learned on moviepooper.com and more than a few articles decrying it) is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. I mean, if you think sunshine and fucking rainbows is that women can’t have successful careers without being friendless bitches and the only way to have a husband and a family is to give up having a career at all.

WHO’S NEXT? THAT LITTLE GIRL ON EVERWOOD?

New York Minute is down to number seven and its poor performance is seemingly threatening the great Olsen Twin Empire. The problem is, this never should have been released in theaters. They just got cocky with all their video success and thought they could pull this off. Sorry, but you can’t swim up the revenue stream. Video and cable are the last steps, not the first. This is like being surprised that the novelization of your film wasn’t a bestseller. I didn’t watch their SNL appearance but I did see the end where one of them yells out, “We’re legal in four weeks.” It was very funny and very self-aware. It was also, super, super creepy to think they know about all the dirty old men who’d be trying to fuck them were it not for some pesky laws. I mean, it’s good they know these freaks exist, but creepy nonetheless.

WE CAN CALL IT “EVIL REDHEADS FROM HELL”

Laws of Attraction is down to number eight and even though her career is still going well, I still think it would be perfect casting for Julianne Moore as Lindsay Lohan’s mother. Maybe it’s because I saw both films the same weekend, but she looks more like her mother than Jamie Lee Curtis ever could. But maybe she will soon. God knows her husband’s career as a director is going nowhere fast. She may have to do the family film he’ll have to do to save himself. Not that his previous attempt, Catch That Kid (where Jennifer Beals played the mom to Whitest Blonde girl on earth) did any business at all.

I’M SMELLING A GOLDEN GLOBE FOR CAINE. AT LEAST A NOMINATION.

Kill Bill Vol. 2 is down to number nine and now that I’ve recovered from how needlessly long this was, with every character talking as slowly as possible, I’m aware of just what a nice performance David Carradine gives in this movie. I’m almost sad I missed his appearances on Alias as a fighting monk. I’d suffer through that show to see that.

THE END

Finally, Godsend closes out the top ten at number ten.

“I AIN’T MUCH ON CASANOVA/ME AND ROMEO AIN’T NEVER BEEN FRIENDS…”

So for the second time in two weeks some woman apparently made a move on me and I was too oblivious to notice. You have to understand: while I am King of the Geeks, I am still just a geek and I react to this sort of thing the way a cop reacts to someone turning themselves in for the Kennedy Assassination. Your first thought is, “This person is fucking with me.” But in my own defense this last time it was in a bar and I’d had a few drinks and oblivious to a lot of things around me, not the least of which being a woman. Damn Stoli. On one hand it’s my salvation, on the other hand it’s the key to my destruction. But on the upside, it allowed me to stagger out and buy a bunch of cupcakes from Billy’s, which is the same as Magnolia (Billy used to work there) but without all those goddamn lines thanks to fucking Sex & the City. I don’t need sex. I’ve got food. Me and Kirstie Alley.

QUEER EYE FOR THE STRAIGHT GUY

So, I left my apartment again to attend a friend’s 30th birthday party in a bar called Gstaad in the club and bar happy 20’s around 6th Avenue. Okay, here’s the problem when trying to go out when it’s not something you usually do. You don’t know how to dress. Saturday was hot, so I spent my time that day in a tank top like any normal person. The problem arose when I didn’t bother changing to go out. I mean it was just a bar right? And it was still hot. It dawned on me this might a have been a mistake when I was talking with someone who immediately assumed I knew where all the gay bars in my neighborhood are (birthday boy is gay, so the party crowd reflected this). I mean I do, but I also know where the drunken yuppie fuck bars are too and I don’t go to them either. In any case, my Surrogate Sister confirmed to me that only gay men wear tank tops out to bars. Thank god it wasn’t ribbed. In any case, it was a nice bar and a nice time and I’m not just saying that because there was a sushi platter and cheese platter there (not to mention more cupcakes from Billy’s). No, I’m saying it because of the man in platform heels, fishnets and a feathered bustier who took off his feathered bustier to let a very cute girl with short dark hair wear it, because she was dying to. That’s what made my night. Well, that and free sushi. And a cheese platter. And cupcakes. Kirstie Alley would understand.

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD

So, the 9th Avenue Food fair was this weekend and for the first time in years, I walked it alone. This is good and bad. Good because I don’t have someone egging me on to eat as much as I possibly can and bad because I don’t have someone egging me on to eat as much as I possibly can. Granted, I shouldn’t probably be eating shark prepared in the street, but if not now, when? So, I was light this year. After a good, sweaty aerobics class and seeing Troy I walked into it and partook of the ever-present mozzarella on sweet corn bread, then some chicken satay from the Thai place, then some coconut shrimp from the seafood place near Port Authority and then some chicken parmigiana from Heroboy. All of this was pretty much within a half-hour. Now, the key to truly indulgent eating is not to drink. Not only does it fill you up, but it washes away the digestive juices. So, after that I took a little break, had some orange juice and then decided to begin my dessert layer. This is when you need a buddy to push you, because I only had the key lime pie (from the Key Lime Guy from Brooklyn who needs to learn how to make a non-bitter crust) before going home to nap (and then on to a night of dressing like a gay man in a bar). Sunday was essentially the same. After yoga (Hot Yoga Instructor was back from visiting her mom in New Orleans) and swimming it was a movie then more coconut shrimp (which is going to be the next dish I teach myself), mini-panini from Mitchell Foods of London, then apple strudel from the Greek place (which was comped thanks to a buddy working there, yeah!) then a nice roasted pig sandwich from Ned Kelly’s. That last bit was like a tranquilizer and sent me home to nap. I woke up later and did another brief run, getting the chicken satay again, another mini-panini, this time with ham, swiss and honey mustard and then a slice of sour cream apple walnut pie from the Little Pie Company. I was a bit disappointed because I went around 5:30 and that’s usually when everything starts going for just a dollar because the fair is ending and you can’t really store shit you make in the streets. On one hand it’s sad this only comes once a year. On the other hand it’s good because I’d be even more of a bloated pig if it did.

“FASHION/TURN TO THE LEFT/FASHION/TURN TO THE RIGHT…”

Okay, so in walking the street fair, you see all sorts of people, especially on one of the few truly nice days of the year so far. And in seeing these people you notice trends characteristic of certain groups. Now, I love a woman in tight jeans and heels as much as anyone, but is that really what you need to be wearing as you walk a thirty block street fair on a hot spring day? And is there such a thing as being too young for a Latin girl to dress like a complete whore? I had to call my Latina friend and ask and she confirmed that, as soon as you can walk, it’s skank time. And I don’t now which was worse: seeing little girls with no curves in halter tops and tight jeans; seeing 12-year-olds with “barely-got-‘em” breasts dressed the same way, or seeing the mothers of these girls whose best days were far, far behind them also dressed this way. My god, if we actually had fashion police they’d be slapped with charges of racism because of all the Puerto Ricans they’d have to arrest. Black people too, and not just for the shit we wear, but because if we wear it, every White kid in America will wear it, so we’re doubly responsible for certain horrific fashion trends. I mean can we give the fucking basketball outfits a fucking rest? And the tilted, three-quarters off baseball caps? Not to mention shorts so damn long you might as well be wearing fucking pants!!! And don’t get me started on the pencil thin facial hair. What the fuck is that about!?! And as bad as it looks on us, it looks worse on the Whites, Latinos and even Asians who emulate it. But a trend that amuses me more than disgusts me is the thug-ass Asian girl. My god, you’d think the bodies of your average Asian girl were being possessed by ghosts from 125th Street. And I’m sorry, but most of these fashions simply don’t work on the flat-assed. But everyone is going to feel the long arm of the fashion law. Forty year old guidos in muscle shirts with gold chains, their wives in terry cloth warm-up suits; any woman who can't understand capri pants are only for the thin; those men of any age with breasts, who insist on going shirtless at the first opportunity, and the even more annoying gay men with toned bodies who also go shirtless at the first opportunity. You’re here, you’re queer, you’re not going away. I get it! Now put a fucking shirt on! And the price we pay for attractive young girls in half-shirts and long hanging jeans are the people who have no business wearing it thinking that they can. No. No. No. You think you’re fit enough to wear it. You’re not. Hey, neither am I. This is why I no longer tuck in my shirts. That tends to produce a large bulge a little higher than where a large bulge is supposed to be on my body.

5/10/04

“Why don’t you sin a little? Doesn’t God deserved to have something to forgive you for?” --- Martin Luther

YES, IT SUCKS

Van Helsing opens at number one by having something for everyone. The old monsters for the old people, the CGI for the young people, mindless action for the males and Hugh Jackman shirtless for the women. Yes, ladies, the shirt comes off. You’d think they would have thrown a little Kate Beckinsale breast our way, considering she’s no stranger to nudity (ALL the English actors have gotten nekkid in the past, all of them), but no, just some cleavage from a trio of vampire brides. Too bad, because I needed something to keep me awake, as I was fighting sleep for most of it. Yeah, it’s that lame. Hugh Jackman is on a mission to piss away the stardom X-Men gave him with a neverending series of bad movies. Mindless action, especially mindless CGI action, with no purpose is as boring as hell. Writer/director Stephen Sommers got lucky with his two Mummy movies, but it’s gone now. Actually, what’s gone now is the humor displayed in not just those films, but even The Scorpion King. The Mummy and its sequel succeeded mainly because they never took themselves too seriously. This has none of that. The few jokes that are present are lame and fall flat. And while he put no effort into the jokes, he very little effort into the story. Van Helsing is essentially James Bond for a secret cabal of religious leaders from all over the world, who strangely have their headquarters in the basement of The Vatican. Yeah, right. Like the Vatican is going to tolerate any other religions, much less work with them. And what Muslim or Buddhist holy man is going to accept The Vatican as headquarters anyway? I noticed there were no rabbis. Probably because the Jews rightly suspected it was just a trap to lure them there to be killed. Guarantee you once the last monster is killed, the other religious leaders will wake up to find Van Helsing with an arrow aimed at their heads. In any case, it opens like a Bond film, with Van Helsing on a mission. This one is to capture Mr. Hyde, making his second all-CGI appearance in the less than a year (the first was League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and if you count The Hulk, it’s three). Then we get the meeting with “M” or in this case, a cardinal. Next comes a visit to “Q’s” labs. In this case it’s a friar named Carl. Bond, er, Van Helsing, gets his new-fangled devices and heads off to fight Dracula. Yeah, if you’re looking for any reflection of the original stories look elsewhere. In this story, Dracula wants Dr. Frankenstein’s monster because he can somehow be used to bring to life Dracula’s thousands of unborn vampire children by 400 years of fucking three vampire women. There’s also some incredibly stupid subplot involving Van Helsing’s memory loss, in which Dracula actually plays a part, but you really don’t care because the story doesn’t either. Dracula can also control the werewolf, who switches back to human the second a cloud blocks the moon. But if you’re indoors the moonlight is blocked, so shouldn’t he revert back then? Don’t bother asking questions like that in a movie this stupid. If you want to see this done right, see a movie called The Monster Squad, where a group of kids faces off against Dracula, The Wolfman, Frankenstein’s Monster and The Creature From The Black Lagoon. It was great, but then again, it had the virtue of being well written (which is amazing considering Shane Black was a co-writer). This is harbinger of another bad summer with overlong movies that will put the kids of every computer programmer in Hollywood through college. Watching it do a 50% drop next week is going to be quite fun and make Hugh Jackman and Kate Beckinsale grateful they’ve both got other franchises to fall back upon (X-Men, Underworld), cause ain’t gonna be no sequels here kids. Thank god.

REALITY BITES

Mean Girls is down to number two and as much as I love Tina Fey, I won’t pretend this love would exist if she were back up to her Chicago weight. Okay, the love would still be there, but not the lust. And even now I’m honest enough to tell you that, in a choice between her and uber-skank Liz Hurley, who’d probably leave me halfway through the night for virtually anyone, I wouldn’t even stop to say goodbye. Yes, geek love is fickle but it’s got 20/20 vision. Also she just doesn’t have any confidence in herself as sexy and that goes a long way. She’s prettier than Sarah Jessica Parker, but SJP knows she’s got a hot little body and that helps to overcome the fact that she sometimes looks like a man in drag. I mean, Tina Fey lost about 30 freaking pounds. What’s the point in losing a lot of weight if you’re not going to flaunt it!?! No one drops that much weight without a doctor’s warning for anything more than vanity. And she’s lying if she says otherwise. Why else does her first scene in a movie she freaking wrote involve her taking her shirt off? Stop pretending you don’t know you’re desirable and start getting free slutty clothes from Dolce & Gabbana and Versace. Hell, if I ever return to my 20-something level of bodyfat, I’ll start showing up at work shirtless.

BUT I DID LIKE HIS ONE SINGLE

Man on Fire is down to number three and also starring in this is Marc Anthony, who has always looked to me like a walking corpse. It’s a tribute the power of music that his career as a singer manages to get him beautiful women, because otherwise this ugly little bastard would be sitting next to the rodent-like John Legquizamo as proof that not all Latin men are Antonio Banderas. And there is no way in hell he could have possibly been the father of Dakota Fanning. Radha Mitchell barely makes it as her mom because the child is as pale a ghost. I guess it would have been too much to have both parents in Mexico fucking City actually be fucking Latin. So, why even pretend with the Mexican father? Just have it be two White people who have to live in Mexico City because of a job. It’s not like the feelings of the Mexican people were ever taken into consideration in the making of this, so why pretend to give a shit and inflict the fugly Marc Anthony on us? And what’s his real name? No Puerto Rican mother in Spanish Harlem names her son after a Roman General or a Shakespearian play. Everybody knows it’s Black people who have this obsession with Greco-Roman names to the point where they make them up. Chucktavius anyone? Yes, someone really named their child that. Sigh.

THINK THEY USED THE DON HENLEY SONG?

New York Minute opens relatively poorly at number four. I say “relatively” since they make their money on home video to begin with, so this is just one giant commercial for that. And even though they’ve gotten a million times better looking, they still have a little orangutan in their faces. That is, when they’re just not looking fucking glassy eyed and drug addict scary. You know that look in an addict’s eyes when you realize they’ll kill you to get more drugs.

IT IS MY GLORY AND MY CURSE, IT IS MY GEEKNESS

13 Going On 30 is down to number five and I can’t believe there’s going to be a spin-off of the odious Daredevil with this manly creature as the lead character, Elektra. Yes, it’s a go (started filming in Canada last week) with Terrence Stamp being cast as Stick, the man who actually trained Daredevil and Elektra; Will Yun Lee as the leader of The Hand, the group of assassins Elektra joins when Stick kicks her out; and that Croatian guy who replaced George Clooney as the Hot Pediatrician on e.r. as probably some love interest. God, it’s so going to suck and the worst part about it is that I’m still going to see it. Damn my geekness! Damn it all to hell!

LO, HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN

Laws of Attraction is down to number six and if Scarlett Johansson wants to see her future she need only look at Parker Posey, once anointed “The It Girl” by giving effervescent performances in a score of indie films. Well, now her looks are starting to fade and she’s supporting comic relief in this film and the latest notch on Ryan Adam’s bedpost. Sigh

JAMES BOND IN RECYLE OR DIE (THEME SONG BY SHIRLEY BASSEY)

Kill Bill Vol. 2 is down to number seven and I’ve got no real problem with Tarantino doing a Bond film like he keeps talking about. Bond movies, as much as I love them, are the same thing over and over and over again and all Tarantino does is recycle movies anyway. It’s part of the problem with his work. Unless you’re totally ignorant of popular culture, you’re constantly being yanked out of the film by endless onslaught of homages to other movies. It borders on the exhausting.

IT SITS RIGHT BETWEEN ROCKY & BULLWINKLE AND ANGEL HEART

Godsend is down to number eight and Hell’s video store will be filled with nothing but non-Scorcese DeNiro films

“I WANT A GIRL WHO’S FUNNY” REALLY MEANS “SHE’LL LAUGH AT ALL MY JOKES.”

Envy is down to number nine, giving SNL member Amy Poehler two films in the top ten, as she’s also in Mean Girls. The sad truth about comedy is the women are no more attractive than the men. I mean, why do you think Tina Fey looks so good on the show? It’s all relative. If you were standing next to Maya Rudolph, Amy Poehler and I’m-sure-she’s-a-nice-person-but-damn Rachel Dratch, you’d look good too. We all have to make choices when we’re not pretty. For men it’s be funny, join a band or play a sport. For women it’s…well, it’s essentially be slutty, ‘cause being funny gets you shit. It’s a man’s world, baby, and we don’t like it when you’re funnier than we are.

ONE MORE BLOW STRUCK AGAINST A SUPERMAN MOVIE EVER BEING MADE

The Punisher closes out the top ten at number ten and they’re actually trying to bullshit someone into thinking a movie that’s made less in a month than Mean Girls made in two weeks is going to get a sequel. Please. Thomas Jane can go back to rummaging through Aaron Eckhart’s garbage for scripts.

HOW COME AQUAMAN ALWAYS LOOKS SO FIT?

So, an interesting tidbit I learned from the birthday party in the park surrounded by doctors is that, if you swim a lot your body reacts to continual immersion in water by insulating your with a layer of warming fat. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Fine. Aside from myself, this explains why all the roly-poly gentlemen who continuously lap me while I’m struggling to stay afloat aren’t ripped either. What it doesn’t explain is those bastards who are cut. Does that mean they’d be even more cut? Damn. That’s just not fair.

ENTER THE DRAGON

For reasons I’ve never been quite able to explain, most of my friends aren’t simply women (which I can blame on my mom), but Asian women. Yes, this is New York and that’s like saying “I know a lot of Jewish women” but the truth is, I know more Asian women than Jewish women, which borders on the fantastic. Now, I didn’t seek this out, I swear. It just kinda happened to me and I never knew why until recently. I just discovered an Asian guy I know is SURROUNDED BY BLACK WOMEN! There it is. My counterbalance in the universe. An Asian guy surrounded by Black women who love him as a friend. I suspect that if either of us were to die, the survivor would have to pick up the other’s slack and soon find himself suddenly beset by a multitude of women from his own ethnic group. They’d get an email from Afro-Asian Central reading, “In light of ____’s passing, the man now designated to listen to you whine about your boyfriend at 3:00 am, go to the movies with you and always remember your birthday is _____. He’s expecting your call.”

“I’LL BE THERE FOR YOU…IN THE DARK WITH THE KNIFE”

Fucking Friends finally ended this week and thank fucking god this horrific, literal “whitewashing” of New York City is gone. I hated it from Day 1 and my burning fury never abated, not even once, and certainly not during their “Hey, here’s a Negro” episodes. My favorite bit of information is that a former writing assistant (who was a Black woman) is suing them for sexual harassment and racial discrimination. If you go to thesmokinggun.com you can read about it. My favorite part is the writers constantly talking about fucking Jennifer Anniston and Courtney Cox---but not Lisa Kudrow. Even better is, one thinks there was a time he actually had a shot! If you know anything about writers, you know we’re an unattractive bunch of bastards, and while Jennifer Anniston ain’t the prettiest creature on the planet (sorry, honey, your bitch mother was right when she looked you dead in the eye and told you weren’t pretty), she’s definitely been seen as one of the hottest for years, and for some ugly-ass writer to think he could get some… Yeah, both she and Courtney Cox fucked that ugly lead singer from Counting Crows, but he was in a fucking band. Mick Jagger has proven for years how little looks matter when you have that. Granted, if you put a microphone in the meeting room of any writing staff anywhere, you’d hear the same shit, but they were dumb enough to keep doing it when she asked them not to. And I won’t even go into their running joke of making Joey a secret serial rapist and going into detail about how he would rape women. This is just sick and a sign you really don’t date much. They’ll probably settle out of court, but wouldn’t it be nice if they went to trial and the details of some loser writer talking about how he’d like to fuck Jennifer Anniston in the ass or how Courtney Cox has a “dried up pussy” would be reported on Entertainment Tonight. I’m sure once word of this got out, there were a lot of suddenly well-treated assistants. Especially on Will & Grace, because you can tell by the storylines how much the writers don’t like Debra Messing. Given that we’re talking about women and gay men ripping on her, you’d probably hear the nastiest shit of all coming from them.

VOTE “YES” FOR BUSH

Realizing her career was fading since moving from Buffy to Angel, Charisma Carpenter is in Playboy. Needless to say, I didn’t buy it, but I looked at it on the newsstand. Let’s see… the implants are gone, guess she wanted to breast feed her child, but where’s the bush? What’s the point of posing nude with no bush? In fact, that’s not even nude. It’s “topless” which you can do in other magazines. Nude is nekkid, starkers, as a jaybird. Not this, “legs strangely always crossed” bullshit. If Cindy Crawford can do a full nude, don’t tell me some second-rate TV actress can’t. What crock of shit. Sorry, but I’m a big, big fan of the “Delta of Venus” which is why I hate all this out of control waxing. Hell, the “semi-nude” pictures in this month’s Allure are better. They do this once a year and every year there’s someone I love (one year it was Gina Gershon). This year, it’s the pinnacle: Drea de Matteo. Big ups to a friend for letting me know this was out there. Also in the issue are Kyra Sedgewick (a.k.a., Mrs. Kevin Bacon) who disappointed the hell out me by revealing she gets a Brazilian; Joy Bryant (making me wish these damn photos were in color), Samantha Mathis (another long time fave), Rose McGowan and Anne Heche? Granted I like her, but if I want to see her naked, I’ll just throw in Wild Side and watch her romp around with Joan Chen.

TOO SMART TO GET LAID

Thinking too much has been the bane of my existence. While I’d still prefer this to being a complete moron, I have to say there’s something to be said for simple thinking. I think mouth breathers enjoy the world a little bit more than I do and my recent visit to the Apple store in SoHo is a perfect example of why. So, I have a DVD burner now and my goal is to burn DVD versions of the VHS shit I have so I can get it out of my house. I was buying Apple brand DVD’s for obvious reasons and I chose the Apple store because I fucking hate CompUSA and pretty much every other computer store. Also, I was downtown anyway buying a Captain America t-shirt (my third) and replacing my supply of Cucumber Melon lotion from bath and body works (I swear I’m straight. In any case my thought process while in line went something like this:

“This-was-too-much-to-spend-on-a- silly-tshirt-but-I-really-wanted-it-and-technically-it-didn’t-cost-me-anything-because- of-all-the-cds-I-just-sold-that-clerk-is-cute-but-too-young-for-me-why-are-even-some-of -the-computer-buying-geeks-in-this-damn-store-skinnier-than-I-am-I-wonder-what-that- gigantic-crane-is-doing-on-Prince-street-not-enough-cash-got-ta-use-debit-card-should- I-take-the-train-back-or-walk-over-to-8th-for-the-bus-and-get-the-free-transfer-hope-I- can-figure-out-how-to-burn-shit-gotta-learn-the-QuarkXpress6-I-down-loaded-too-I-need-a- nap-my-god-this-is-a-nice-bag…”

and so on. And it’s always like that. Always. In any case, you’ll see one of the thoughts I had was about the cute cashier. Well, when you think entirely too much you miss little things like WHEN THE CUTE CASHIER TRIES TO FLIRT WITH YOU. Sigh. Yes, she saw my t-shirt and said, “Hell’s Kitchen. Didn’t they revamp that.” I was thinking too much about what that meant to notice the beaming smile that never left her face! The little man inside my head with the perpetual boner was kicking me hard, screaming, “Say something funny, you stupid bastard. After all, you like to think you’re so damn funny Every week you’re so fucking funny, but you can’t be funny now, when we need it!?! This is why you’ve got a $30 Captain America t-shirt when real men use that money to buy drinks and condoms! Even if you were gay you couldn’t get laid!” Then he choked to death on his own bile. Sigh. A girl who worked at the Apple store. What kind of geeky wet dream did I blow? The only way it could have been better is if she worked at a comic book store.

THE FIT, THEY ARE DIFFERENT FROM YOU AND ME

So, I’ve become one of those people. This weekend, when I really, really didn’t wan to get up and go workout, I had lame workouts and it upset me. That’s right, I’m becoming one of those people who needs to work out. Sigh. First, my normally intimidating aerobics instructor was out and the woman who’s taken his place before gave a fairly easy class, even though she incorporated the horrid squats. I don’t need to do squats, okay? My thighs are big enough. And the next day, for the yoga class I almost missed, the instructor wasn’t there. That’s right, no Hot Yoga Teacher. Instead, it was her friend, the granola crunchy woman who originally taught the beginner’s class. And I didn’t like her class at all, though it was fairly intense. And the cruelest irony? She touched me more in one class than Hot Yoga Teacher has touched me in a month, complete with some little head massage at the end of the class (see, when you screw up, they have to gently align you and I screw up a lot, heh-heh-heh). And as if that weren’t bad enough, I couldn’t do my after-yoga swim because the normally empty pool was full. And one lane was taking up by someone woman playing with her daughter. Now, my love for children knows no bounds---except for this one. It’s not a playing pool, it’s a goddamn swimming pool. I was so annoyed I just left the gym, pissed off. I remained irritable until I saw Van Helsing, which gave me a new target for my anger. But I’m still pissed. I ate a lot of cheese this weekend, so I needed those workouts to be hard. I needed to swim. I have become…a freak.