Friday, June 27, 2008

Pointless in Pink

OK, so I just watched Pretty in Pink for the first time since it was first on HBO...sometime around 1987 or 88, I would guess. I loved all of the John Hughes movies to differing degrees (yes, even the ones that are now shockingly racist, I'm afraid), but I never really liked this one. It just didn't ring true with me. But in all of these different retrospectives, the love pours out for this picture in particular. So I thought "maybe I'm remembering it wrong" and watched it.

Still sucked. Worse now.

So, they go on a date, two dates if you count the first disaster, and share 20 lines together and guess what, they are in LOVE. Even though there is NO chemistry, somehow Andy and Blaine are in LOVE. And I know not to trust Hughes' treatment of love because later the wacky punk rock mother figure falls in LOVE after one date with the milquetoast pet shop owner.

Can I stress again the complete lack of chemistry between the two love birds? And yet here is this Duckie character, full of pepper, doing a fantastic Otis Redding, and whipping up all kinds of chemical reactions with Molly Ringwald. I know they shot a version where the two of them end up together, but test audiences didn't dig it. Of course they didn't.

Perhaps the real weak link, that which brings the rest of it crashing down, is the limp, opaque, insufferably dull Andrew McCarthy. He always lends a certain drained-of-blood, soulless, scrubbed sphincter face to any cast (Joy Luck Club, Less Than Zero) and it seems like it's always up to everyone else to add some color to the scene. Why he was cast in this (or anything else) is impossible to understand. Plus what's with that hair? Elulch.

Finally, I have to say it: The people who loved this movie because a "freak" girl was finally the central character should have expected more...even in 1985. Blaine is in LOVE with her, then he gives her the cold shoulder because his BFF (James Spader, never boring) says he won't be his friend anymore if he keeps hanging with that freak girl (hello, schoolyard?). So she goes to the prom to show them all that they didn't beat her--and Duckie shows up like a class act hero so that the lady doesn't have to stand alone--she runs into Blaine, and he drops this shit on her: "You said you couldn't believe in someone who didn't believe in you. Blah blah I always believed in you. You just didn't believe in me." Then he says he loves her ("Always." Gag) and walks out. After which Duckie tells her to go after him and she does. Blaine and Andy kiss at the car, etc., etc.

Did I miss something? Wasn't she calling him constantly? Wasn't he blowing her off? Was part of the movie cut? Why does everyone think this is so romantic? Please explain.

Great soundtrack, though.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Updates, June 2008

Things That Are Arrrsome

WallE and Hancock commercials. I love them already. Of course, Will Smith basically just has to show up (in sci fi) to get my vote for President of Movietimes and Popcorn Oils. Love!

Starbucks venti iced-coffee with sugar free cinnamon dolce and a little half-n-half. Only $3:03!

Kathy Griffin, back on Bravo…My Life on the D List, check it out.

People who remembered my birthday…but not my age. Bonus points for liars who claimed I was 24.

The next Presidential election. It’s going down, downtown like a clown, Charlie Brown.

Things That Are Not Arrrrsome

The Happening is just the commercials plus time. You know how some people make it in Hollywood because of superficial nuances? Because they inhabit some niche “look”? Congratulations, Zooey Deschantelnel. Or whatever. May someone with better acting skills someday be blessed with the “Wide Blue Eyes of Wonder” moniker and send you back to the guest spot on Law & Order: SVU mid-season slump. I know I am irritating at least two people right now, but you haven’t seen The Happening, have you? Rest my case.

“Gourmet” wild rice blend I bought for $6 from Fresh Direct. Slime. Gritty slime. What the hell?
People down on Kathy Griffin. Seriously, get over yourself.

Stupid birthday. At a certain point it should be called The Cowbell of Doom. Hilarious side note…I came across some very old ass diaries from the ago time and discovered that I spent the same amount of time (if not more) obsessing about cancer. Still not dead yet! Perhaps this is a lesson? Something along the lines of…stop worrying, dumbass? YAY!

I would like a Democrat in the White House, m’kay? Would he be my first choice? Apparently not. Every time I took that damn ABC News online quiz, it came up Dennis Kucinich. Now, based on mere visuals, I’d more likely vote him 8th Grade Math Teacher from the Past, but apparently he was my main man, no matter how many times I tried to come up with someone prettier. But now that Obama is our candidate, it’s been half enlightening and all sickening to watch the mainstream press bury themselves in racist idiocy. Barack’s baby mama, anyone? No, no, fuck you, Fox News.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Don't Be a Hater

Even you, elitist, must admit this is funny. Even though it is probably Photoshopped, well, I just don't care. Every time I look at it I laugh. So go to icanhascheezburger and get some jollies. Some day you are gonna love it like I do.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Explore the Space, Gene

The girls and I were discussing our love for Will Ferrell. Where did it begin? For me, probably here. Crazy Train Count Kookula is funny (I gotta fever...and the only more COWBELL), but Will Ferrell's tender, exposed belly may be funnier than anything else in this infamous clip. And when he explores the space? O my Jesus.

Monday, June 09, 2008

My Sugar Bunny Hearts

Look at her. Isn't she sublime? For 4+ years she's stood by my head as I've slept next to the butcher. I've paid her very little attention since she was not mine...but now she is mine. For-EV-ers. Meep!

If you know me, you know one of my all-time favorite movies is Aliens. This is the Queen. You know. "Get away from her, you BITCH"? I love her! Snugglebunnies!

The butcher is leaving behind his younger infatuation with figurines, and I am one of the recipients of his enviable collection. He's holding on to the most important figures (to him, at least, and that's Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, Freddy Kruger, and Leatherface), but all the rest are going to family and friends. I was the extremely lucky recipient of this preeeeciooouuus.

She resides in my office, of course. Where else? I want to position her so that she scares the poopities out of certain somebodies, but she'll probably just live here, near the plantlife, where she seems natural and happy. O happy day.

Sunday, June 01, 2008


Update: The Pop Tarts Tat persists. With very little degradation. Am I afraid? Maybe a little. Have I been marked for life? By the Pop Tarts corporation or whatever?

I swear it looks like Kat Van D. or whatever came in here with her little zotty tool and made this sucka permanent. I certainly would not choose this pervy ass tattoo as a permanent tat. Ug. It would be maybe Dwight's face. Or maybe the lyrics to "Rhiannon." You know.

I will try some damn nail polish remover tomorrow. I can't have the new peep's first day begin with the sight of me and my dorktastic Pop Tarts tat.