It’s hot here today, not as hot as some places have been for 2-3 months, but hot. So I am glued to the computer, the CD player, the TV, etc., and have the AC cranked up to “Frosty”. Plus, by sheer luck, my computer desk (yup, no laptop, no smartphone, just a cheapie desktop, about a year old, with the old gigantic monitor, because why waste money on a new monitor) sits right over a heat vent. (Yes, mobile homes have central air these days) So I’m comfy as hell, but have to rub my feet together some to make sure there’s still blood flowing. Not so funny, I suppose: my dad and 2 uncles have lost 5 legs between them due to poor circulation. Whoo-hoo, old age–what fun.
From the “What’s say we talk about something that isn’t morbidly depressing department?”: The other night I was having just one beer, watching tv, and alternating between youtube music and reading blogs (if I was smarter than a drunken goat I could probably open wordpress and youtube at the same time, but we’ll work on that), when I “lit on” ” Lifetime” network as I was flipping through channels. I kept it there for a minute because I
have always liked Gabrielle Anwar’s ass have always respected Gabrielle Anwar’s acting ability, and just left the channel there, not really watching. Imagine my surprise when there was, a little later, a “simulated doggie” scene. You know what I mean, just 2 faces coming right at you, smiling woman in front of smiling man, moving in a way that doesn’t suggest 2 people talking in the cereal aisle or 2 people dancing, but does suggest them doing one other, very specific, thing. Plus, of course, later there was Gabs and a guy (the bad guy? the hero? I don’t know) in more traditional simulated stuff. I had to think: “Lifetime: television for women?” I thought that just meant “empowered, endangered women in conflict and in danger and maybe in love”, or something. NOT simulated dog-style! So, needless to say, I’m kinda pissed at Lifetime for declaring, on their website (because I doubted my brain when I remembered them as being “television for women”), that they were “committed to offering….programming content that celebrates, entertains and supports women.” Hey, Lifetime, I may not have the testosterone level of the average guy, or of me at age 23, but I am still a guy, and I was frickin’ entertained, as hell, when watching the aforementioned simulation. So, yeah, Lifetime, whatsay we change the tagline to “Television for Women (and Men Who Like Simulated Sex)”. Thank you very much.
Like I said, I didn’t really watch the movie, just looked up from the computer once in a while at the right moments, because after all, there wasn’t any shooting by John Wayne, Clint, or Sean Connery, and Jack Black didn’t die, and Bruce Willis didn’t shoot anybody, or die, and Bruce Willis didn’t shoot Jack Black and a bunch of other people and die, and Bruce Willis didn’t casually shoot a gay guy while eating Chinese takeout, a gay guy that you don’t like anyway, not because he’s gay, but because he’s homely and presumptuous and whiny. “I thought we were going out”–I’da shot him too, had I been gay and already fed. And why does BW pick a gay guy to use for a “safe house” in the DC area instead of a woman? We don’t really see any indicator, that I can remember, that the Jackal is gay or straight. Did he think that a gay guy would be more of a sure thing, that a woman might expect more and not be so ready to give him a key to her place, or did he not want to (inevitably) kill the woman? He certainly showed no qualms, anywhere else in the movie, about killing women.
Sorry, not a big Jack Black fan. I like “The Jackal” partly because he gets killed and “Mars Attacks” partly because he gets vaporized. They missed their chances in a couple other movies: the remake of “King Kong” (pointless because it didn’t have Jessica Lange and Jeff Bridges as leads) and “Enemy of the State”. No, I’m not that psycho; I don’t want Jack Black to actually die young, just to have a career that doesn’t put him in public. Hey, we like what we like.
From the “If I thought of it, I’m sure it’s already been done” department: there should be t-shirts with “Like this on Facebook” on the front, with an arrow pointing down.
From the “Don’t expect me to not look if you have words written across the butt of your form-fitting clothes” department: The other day I saw a not-all-that-attractive Hispanic woman with “Stay Away” written across the ass of her pajama-ey pants. Luckily, I resisted the urge to walk up and say : “No problemo, senora; I’ll stay away.”
Finally, from the “I wish I’d slept on it before I sent that letter” department: Did you hear about the thrilling decision by the wife of New Jersey Assemblyman Pat Delaney? She sent an email, not to a friend that was then leaked or intercepted or whatever, no, she sent it directly to the staff of Carl “Olympic Medal-winner” Lewis, who is apparently campaigning for office there, saying, among other things: “imagine having dark skin and name recognition and the nerve to think that equaled knowing something about politics.” Really, she really did that. In 2011, and not in Mississippi. Sorry, Mississippi. Her family must be so thrilled. Her hubby resigned to save the three kids from the humiliation and publicly stated that his views on race didn’t quite gibe with hers. You know, however she thinks (which I guess is pretty obvious), why didn’t she just say something like “imagine thinking that winning a sports medal and being famous make you a good assemblyman.” Nope, had to put it all out there.
From the “Apropos of absolutely nothing related to this blogpost” department, this is exactly how I feel about love. The title of the song could be “F*** You, Cupid”.