“Spike” starts, as horror films often do, with a car crash along a rural road at night. But this particular car crash is no accident. Two couples traveling to an unnamed destination are halted by what looks like a steam punk accessory. No one is seriously injured in the accident, but after the lone dude goes to check out the tire damage, an unseen assailant attacks him. The gothic spikes he found in the tire are now sticking out of his throat and he’s bleeding out fast. The three remaining girls go into panic mode and try to figure out how to save their friend and just what the hell is going on…
Read the rest at Pretty/Scary!
I was raised on the East Coast, but I happily moved to Washington for college and never looked back. I’d never really understood all the complaining by New Yorkers about the lack of good delis and bakeries in Seattle. Different places have different things. But then the I Love New York Deli happened. I’d forgotten all about knishes, rugelach, babka, and piles of thinly sliced and cured meats on marble rye. But these guys haven’t. And they expertly deliver the goods to jonesing east coast ex-pats. It’s like a Seinfeld episode come to life. The staggering knish selection offers both sweet and savory options. They bake their own breads and bagels every morning. There are multiple options for lox and schmear. Breakfast is served daily till 11 and includes a bevy of Kaiser egg sandwiches. At lunch, every enormous, made-to-order sandwich is served with a big, crispy pickle. They also offer a small dry goods selection for those of you missing Stella Doro, Wise chips, and Chock-Full-O-Nuts, plus your typical pre-packaged kosher foods. Though I still love Seattle for its Seattleness, I apparently have plenty of room in my heart for the I Love New York Deli.
5200 Roosevelt Way NE 98105
X-posted from Not For Tourists.
It wasn’t long ago that SNL seemed promising. Of course, with a rotating cast, these things are absolutely cyclical. But when it was Maya Rudolf, Amy Poehler, Tina Fay and Will Forte, there were a lot of quality sketches. Any one of those people can pretty much do or say anything and make it funny. They also weren’t so much with the recurring sketches. And the characters that were recurring (Donatella Versace, the arrogant, one-legged chick, fucking MacGruber!) somehow seemed fresh every time. Now the funny ladies are gone, replaced by much less funny ladies and Kristen Wiig, who can be very funny, but not all the time. So far this season, SNL has been a real dud. They seem to be mostly falling back on recurring characters, mostly played by Kristen Wiig and those sketches are indistinguishable from one another, save the appearance of that week’s host. Seth Meyer is absolutely lost without Amy Poehler. Will Forte has pretty much been relegated to play the straight man (Gilly…GILLY…). Furthermore, Andy Samberg’s once fresh Digital Shorts are generally one-noted.
And then there’s the “What Up With That?” sketch. It’s Keenan Thompson playing a soul-styled host of a talk show called, you guessed it, “What Up With That”. The joke is that his theme song is so long and involved that he never gets around to talking to his high-profile guests, people like James Franco and Al Gore, who are brought in just to sit there and look annoyed and bewildered. It goes on way too long and it’s not terribly funny. BUT the song is extremely catchy.
I was just in the elevator with 4 young ladies on their way to lunch. For some reason, they were all discussing corndogs and they all agreed that corndogs are “gross”. “I like hot dogs. I like cornbread. But I just don’t like corndogs,” said one. “Yeah! I can’t rememeber the last time I even ate one. I was probably drunk,” said another. I didn’t know these people so I couldn’t chime in. But I think corndogs are terrific. In my head, the phrase “Corndog haters in the elevator” popped up. “What up with that?” And with that, I’d written a new verse of the annoyingly infectious “What Up With That” song. And now it’s in my head. Till the end of time.
See for yourself.
It always seems like the most obnoxious sketches are the ones that people remember. And the truly original, funny ones, get banished to obscurity. No one will ever remember the “Garden Party” sketch as well as they’re remember Penelope the one-upper or fucking Gilly. What up with that?
I absolutely expected some comments from pissed off Twitards for my scathing review of “New Moon”. Fanatics, especially young ones, can’t stand to hear opposing viewpoints on the things that are precious to them. If you have time, I recommend reading all of the comments, including some nice and thoughtful words in my defense. But one comment in particular ranks as the most emotional, off-topic and hilarious response to my writing I have ever come across.
Jessica Baxter, What follows will likely not make it to your blog [Ha! -JB]. In fact, it shouldn’t. Your entire review of New Moon is dark and angry. But I believe you were this way before you saw the film. Read the following 15 quotes from your review of the movie which is the tone of your entire review. Notice the slant of your focus. I don’t believe it came from the movie. I believe you’ve been carrying this around for a very long time. Take all of these quotes personally… “a story so rich with anti-feminist ideology.” “Bella-as-a-battered-woman interpretation” “been more comfortable staring directly into a stripper’s backside. I’m not even joking.” “drives older folks absolutely fucking nuts.” “Excuse me while I go have a panic attack.” “joy ride with one of the Port Angeles rapists.” “a cue to become an adrenaline junkie.” “save her stupid ass from” “bloodthirsty monster to homosexuality.” “seeing as how she has such a boner for men who want to hurt her.” “I was once a brooding teenager who dreamed of gothic romance.” “that Joss Whedon did for female empowerment.” “a slightly condescending and bigoted sauce.” “so much worse than the Backstreet Boys.” “and drink up the messages like poisoned Kool-Aid depresses the hell out of me.” Even the name of this site makes a statement… “Film Threat”. I’ve never heard of you before today. How many of your reviews are like this? How many dark movies do you “love”. Is it possible this is a general theme in the way you look at the world every day? Look at the bi-line of the name of your site. “Truth in Entertainment”. It is not uncommon for the damaged soul to take a smug attitude against the truth. And I think you know the truth is, what you write is simply opinion, nothing more. [Well, yes. That's what a review is. -JB] You stand behind an attitude like this in order to hide your insecurity as a person. You pride yourself with your use of language. But Jessica, this review contains some very revealing clues to your unhappiness in life. The cruel way your were treated as a child. Being abandoned. [Actually, my parents never left me alone. I often wished they were more hands-off. -JB] Feeling alone, even in a crowd. Being misunderstood. Being exposed to things a child should never have to see or endure. [Like Catholic School? -JB] Your anger. The beatings. [Was I beaten?!...Oh my god...-JB] The bitterness. May I suggest you allow your therapist to read it from a professional point of view. It might help him/her help you. And keep writing like this, maybe in a more private setting. It can bring much of the buried anger to the surface where it can be dealt with in a healthy way. I’ve worked with people on these issues and worse for many years. You will likely respond with anger asserting that your observations come from a rational point of view. Defensiveness and denial are common in people with such a damaged inner child. Don’t just give in to it all. Don’t let all of this be your “excuse” in life for loneliness and loss. Let someone help. It will take courage, but it will be worth it. Please believe me. I will not come back looking for a response. This is not a topic for public discussion. [Then thanks for dragging my imagined personal issues out into a public forum, dickwad. -JB] This is not about me. Just a suggestion from one who sees the truth. And in this case, it has nothing to do with “entertainment”. Seye
I find it particularly interesting that Dr. Freud here a) doesn’t understand that I was, in fact, mostly joking and b) considers feminist ideology and not liking the Backstreet Boys to be a sign of mental illness. I wonder how he/she even came across the review in the first place since they had never heard of Film Threat and included the name and mission statement of an outlet I just work for as part of my analysis. What compels someone to write something like this based on a negative review of a popular movie franchise? Consider my mind boggled.
I felt like I was attending a Barely Legal Chippendales show with my young cousin and horny aunt. I’ve been more comfortable staring directly into a stripper’s backside…
Read the rest at Film Threat!
I haven’t seen the Harvey Keitel “Bad Lieutenant” from 1992 so I can’t really speak to whether Werner Herzog’s new film is a remake, a reimagining, or a whole new story with similar themes. I dislike remakes as a general rule, but in this case, I suspect it doesn’t really matter. “The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans” is a Herzog film starring Nicolas Cage, and both of these men are fully capable of putting their unique stamp on anything they touch. Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Cage for remaking the “The Wicker Man” because his performance was so hysterically over-the-top. The beloved original film couldn’t have been further from my mind as he bounded around a pagan island in a bear suit punching old ladies. Nicolas Cage is a joy to watch, and Werner Herzog is a brilliant storyteller. It would really be hard to go wrong with such a winning pair…
Read the rest at Film Threat.
Maybe the space is cursed. Meza occupies what was once vegan nightmare, the Globe. Now it’s a tapas restaurant. Unfortunately, though the prices are reasonable (for tapas) and menu sounds promising, it’s just not that good. The sangria is only passable. The tortilla portions are so small that the waiter admitted they should be giving them away (and then, kindly, he did just that). The food is incredibly bland and uninspired. At $12, the Vegetales is nothing more than a glorified salad; a disappointing one at that. The corn cakes in the Arepitas resemble over-sized Communion wafers from both a visual and textural standpoint. I had to ask for a dish of salt to make it palatable. In fact, you’re going to need that dish of salt for pretty much everything you order. The only thing that works out is the Morrocoy Bocadillo (pulled pork sandwich). But there’s no shortage of good pulled pork in this town. You might as well patronize a place that also does other dishes well. It didn’t help our experience that the waiter took every opportunity to bad-mouth the food. Unfortunately, he was right about everything. Sorry Meza, but you’re kind of a mess-a.
1515 14th Ave 98112
X-posted from Not For Tourists.
My husband is trying to kill me. At least that’s how it seems as there is no other logical explanation for what he is doing.
Last winter, we argued over the thermostat. I wanted it to be at 72 degrees (which is the commonly agreed-upon “perfect weather” temperature), but he thought it should be at 68. He cited John F. Kennedy and played the “environmental” card. I wanted to compromise at 70 but he wouldn’t have that either. So I finally succumbed to his precious 68 degrees. And then summer came, and our poorly insulated house got all warm. While he complained, I was finally comfortable.
But now it’s winter again. So I turned the heat on to 68 degrees. I thought he would be happy. Bare in mind that I am still cold at 68. I still have to wear slippers and a sweater and my hands are still like icicles. But I was willing to let it go. Once we started living in the basement (where this IS no heat, mind you), he took it further by declaring that the heater should be turned off at night. He said that it was primarily because of the noise the furnace made. The noise didn’t bother me and I’m a lighter sleeper than he is but I still let him do it.
And then one day this week he got some bug up his ass about how even 68 is still too hot and turned the thermostat down to 66. 66! What the shit is THAT? When it’s 66 degrees outside, people still wear long sleeves. Personally, I would also bring a light jacket. To go OUTSIDE. This is our home. We live indoors. It’s supposed to be cozy. But it’s not. It’s freezing. And then he goes off to work (where I DOUBT it’s 66 degrees) and I work from home in my ice-cold basement. I tried to reason with him about it last night. I thought I got through to him. But after spending half the day wondering why I couldn’t feel my toes, I checked the thermostat and found it, once again, at 66 degrees. Of course, I turned it up immediately. But I’m sure he’ll just turn it down again. I don’t want to live like a passive-aggressive TV couple. I want him to understand that 66 degrees is not reasonable. It’s easier for him to simply take off a layer than for me to bundle up, drink hot tea all day, and work under a blanket.
I don’t want to play the fetus card, but HELLO! Fetus! All of my blood is in my uterus right now. And my uterus gets bigger and bigger every goddamned day. I’m colder than I otherwise would be. 66 is not going to work for me. I think I’ve been very lenient on this. I have never gotten my way nor had any of my compromises accepted. Well, I’m done trying to compromise. It’s got to be 68. No lower. If not for me, than for the warmth-stealing fetus. Unless he really is trying to kill me. In which case, we have bigger problems.
Film Threat’s Jessica Baxter [Hey! That's, me!] speaks with the pleasantly droll and endearingly self-deprecating Bobcat about his films, Catholic school, working with friends, teenagers and coming-of-age as a middle-aged man…
Read it at Film Threat!
Consumption is inspired by the true story, so says the opening credits. And I think I recall they story they are referring to. Craigslist is good for many things, not the least of which is experimentation. Sometimes that experiment involves finding out what it’s like to eat someone. And sometimes it involves finding someone who is willing to eat you…
Read the rest at Pretty/Scary!