meliorate

Jessica creates a meme!

Through a unique combination of boredom and geektitude, my brain to ponder what certain comicbook characters might listen to. Here are my theories. If you’re game, I’d love to hear what others think. Also, feel free to add characters.

Make with the nerdiness!

1. Superman – Matchbox 20
2. Batman – Nine Inch Nails
3. Robin – Wham!
4. Hulk – Sepultura
5. Aquaman – Erasure
6. Wolverine – The Doors
7. Cyclops – Rush
8. Wonder Woman – Indigo Girls
9. Captain America – Toby Keith
10. Catwoman – Souxsie & The Banshees
11. Punisher – Social Distortion
12. Swamp Thing – Enya
13. Storm – Black Eyed Peas (old skool)
14. Gambit – Creedence Clearwater Revival
15. Daredevil – The Rolling Stones
16. Hellboy – Metallica
17. Magneto – Pet Shop Boys
18. Lex Luthor – Electric Light Orchestra
19. The Joker – Weird Al Yankovic
20. Dark Phoenix – Ani DiFranco

that's craaaaazy

You KNOW you want to hear Paris Hilton's music. Hear her do the songs that Paula Abdul rejected for “Forever Your Girl”.

It's interesting to note that Paris' voice sounds different on each track. I'm sure that's a sign of her diversity and not that she paid people to sing for her while she was out buying purses for her dog.

made from Cactus, Russel?

WEEKEND RECAP

Friday

Around 6:30, my friends Ryan and The Kidd came over to get me ridiculously baked and drive my ass to Everett. The Kidd was just taking us up there and leaving. Ryan and I would have no ride home. At the time, we weren’t concerned. There HAD to be a bus that left Everett, right? Besides, it would be a rock n’ roll adventure. Little did we know, seeing Oasis at the Everett Events Center is about the LEAST rock and roll thing a person can do.

The ride up was promising. Ryan played DJ in the backseat by spinning the best Oasis b-sides (as every Oasis fan knows, are the best Oasis tunes). The Kidd dropped us off at the Events Center around 7:45. The show had started at 7, but we couldn’t be bothered with the openers, Kasabian & Jet. I didn’t expect much hassle from the bag checkers. Why should I? The guy looked inside my bag and was set to move me along when he noticed my patches.

“Are those safety pins on your bag, ma’am?”, he asked.

“Yes. They’re holding on the patches,” I said.

“Well, you’re going to have to remove them and throw them away,” he said sternly.

“Are you serious?” I asked. “What kind of damage can a person do with safety pins?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s regulations.”

As I huffily removed all my safety pins, I muttered about how ridiculous it all was. Ryan concurred.

“Do you know how many times I’ve flown with these pins on this bag?” I asked. “They don’t even let nail clippers on airplanes but they don’t care about safety pins.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said again. I know it’s not his fault but COME ON! Safety pins! They have the word “safety” in the name!

Anyway, even after that little annoying incident, we entered the building in high spirits. I wasn’t drinking that night on account of my stomach still feeling a bit weak, but Ryan purchased a double-fister and, this being an all-ages show, we had to stand along the wall by the concessions stand to drink them. We could hear the irritating strains of Jet as we scanned the crowd. After a while, we realized this was the WEIRDEST crowd we had seen at a show in a long time. There were Dockers everywhere. Girls in tube tops strolled along with ex-frat boys now in their early thirties. A middle-aged woman in what appeared to be a house-frock, stood along side some younger adults with beer-in-hand. A couple of guys who looked like they came right from the office strolled by. Ryan and I wondered if we had the wrong night and we were actually about to see Third Eye Blind or something. Or perhaps there is so little to do in Everett that the entire town turns up to a gig at the Events Center, no matter who’s playing. Even with the tame crowd, cops sauntered around like giant twats with moustaches, actually HASSLING the 30-somethings. One such group was asked to show their I.D.s for the beers they were holding. Another group was hassled for a good 10 minutes by two mustachioed cops. I couldn’t hear what the altercation about was about, but it was clear that these perfectly law-abiding people were being bothered for no reason. When it was obvious to the cops that they had nothing on these guys, they sauntered away, pausing to exchange smug glances with a nearby security guard. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN EVERETT! Ryan and I were definitely losing heart by this point. As Jet finished spewing their shitty Gap inspired “rock and roll”, we went in to the arena to find our seats. We were right above the floor and had thought it might be easy to sneak down TO the floor. That was before we knew there WAS no floor. What should have been a sea of people standing around waiting to be rocked, was actually row after row of folding chairs, filled with people sitting dutifully. Some people stopped in the aisles, talking to each other. A security guard came by and told them they had to sit in their seats. Are you kidding me? No one at this show was under 20 and we were all being treated like a fucking after-school day-care. The crowd continued to weird me out. To our left was a group of people who appeared to be dressed as the Kinks. They were hanging out with Mr. Kotter. A woman in a short-shirt and cowboy hat strolled by about a hundred times, stopping periodically to put her arms over her head and cheer. More people in work clothes scrambled to find their seats as the lights dimmed. The sense of normalcy came from a small gathering of English guys around my age who were excited as hell to see some boys from back home.

When Oasis came out on stage, I knew instantly that they were not going to give a good show. Their body language was heavy. They were tired. They didn’t know where they were and they didn’t care. They stared out at a half-empty arena and decided to plow through their set as quickly as possible so they could get the fuck out of there. “Where the fuck are we?” asked Noel. “Everett!”, someone shouted. “Everett? What the fuck is Everett? Is that Seattle?” he snarked. “No. I know. I went to Seattle today. It was forty-five fucking minutes away.” Later he introduced a song by saying “Ever have one of those days where everything comes together in a zenlike fashion? This is not one of those days.” He never addressed the audience again. Meanwhile, Liam was being a twat, which I love. During the guitar solos, he would come to the front of the stage and just stand there, arms crossed. At one point, he balanced his tambourine on his head. At another point, he hid behind a stack. It was all kind of funny. But I couldn’t help but feel his heart wasn’t in it. The played only two new songs. The rest of the time, they plowed through the hits like it was a Revue. The English guys didn’t care. They sang their hearts out. It was pretty cute and the only thing that really kept me entertained throughout. Oh well.

After the show, Ryan and I wandered around Everett looking for the bus station. We asked a few passers by for directions but…surprise surprise, no one was from there! In half an hour, the entire town seemed evacuated and Ryan and I were hopelessly lost. We found a Texaco station and asked for directions. The told us the bus station was 10 blocks away, but that he was pretty sure they weren’t running until morning. Everett. Finally, Ryan broke down and said he’d pay for a cab. Back to Seattle. I wasn’t going to argue. He was hoping we’d get a cool cabbie who would be interested in bartering with weed. We didn’t. $60 later, we were back in Seattle. Everett. Not going to do that again.

I was home (thanks to a kind Dom who picked me up from Ryan’s) at 1:00 and took solace a rerun of Star Trek TNG (the one with Hue!) before going to bed.

Saturday

I make no apologies for sleeping in till noon. It was fantastic. I’m pretty sure I needed the rest. Dom and I watched some TV and putted around the apartment until dinner time. Faye came over, we exchanged presents and then went to get some dinner at Toreros on Broadway. We got to the Nite Lite around 8:15. Cherry wasn’t there and we didn’t really know if we should ask about getting in the back room since she was the one who reserved it. Sherrard finally got up the courage to ask someone. We entered a fairly large room full of extremely random décor. None of the wallpaper matched. One wall was lined with shiny red and white cloth. Still, it was kinda cool. People began to stream in and the rest of the night is kind of a blur. Not because I was drunk (I only had 3 drinks!) but because people came and went constantly. Large parties like that are fun but also difficult because, if you’re hosting them, it’s impossible to talk to anyone for longer than 10 minutes at a time.

Matt bought me a drink I’d never had before called a Greyhound. I really liked it. I’m so picky about mixed drinks. A Greyhound is grapefruit juice and vodka and I think I like it more than vodka and orange. So that was cool.

Dom and I made out with some pretty cool gifts. Sherrard got me a great print of the “Rude Boy” one-sheet. The tagline for that movie is “Grab the future by its face”. I think that might be my favorite tagline of all time. Especially since it has NOTHING to do with the movie itself. Faye and I were very excited to give Sherrard his “Alone in the Dark” theme gift which included the movie, the t-shirt and a copy of “I Wish I Had An Angel”. He seemed pleased. Erin got me and Dom and copy of the Suicide Girls book, which I had bought for Ryan and was coveting. I actually knew what it was before I opened it just based on the size of the book. Kayobi got me some delicious, booze-filled chocolates. Faye got me the DVD of “Knowing Me, Knowing You with Alan Partridge”. I’m VERY excited about that. Love the Steve Coogan. Sherrard got Dom a book on Paul Verhoeven which is full of fantastic pictures and inspirational quotes from the man himself. Love the Verhoeven. Faye also got Dom a game that looks pretty cool called “Darkwatch”. Birthdays are nice.

For some reason, me, Dom, Borgia and Faye all pooped out around 12:30 and cabbed it back to the Hill. This turned out to be a highlight of the evening. The cabby had the radio on and we heard “She’s Got a Way” followed by “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips. For some reason, we were in a singing mood and we sang along to both, Faye throwing some sweet harmonies in to the latter number. The cabby said we sounded better than Wilson Phillips. Awesome. And all this fun was had sober. Who knew?

Sunday

I put together a book shelf while I watched “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2”. Then I went to yoga. After yoga, Dom and I watched the last episode of Doctor Who with Christopher Eccleston. I was very very sad at the end because SPOILER he turned into some other dude. Granted, it was a very clever way of dealing with Christopher Eccleston leaving the show without killing him off. And the new Doctor is pretty damned hot. But I doubt the new guy will be able to exude the same dangerous, sexy, creepy and charming British James-Spader-ness of Christopher Eccleston. Plus, I’m going to miss that charming Northern accent. Damnit. End Spoiler

Then I tried to finish the Jenna Jameson book before bed so I could return it to the library. I couldn’t do it. Despite being filled with (sexy) pictures, it’s also chock full of words and is taking me a long time to get through. I highly recommend it though, if you’re a fan (maybe even if you aren’t). She’s very well-spoken and has had a difficult and interesting life. The book is engaging and honest. And overdue. Doh!

mont salami ammeter collaborate terse abusive

WEEKEND RECAP: THE CONCLUSION

MONDAY

Ben, Dom, Sherrard and I arrived at Seattle Center in reasonably jolly spirits. We parked Ben’s car, paid the ridiculous parking fee, and wandered toward one of the many entrances. Around that time, Ahe called me to inquire after my whereabouts, for she was already at the main stage waiting for the Decemberists to play. Having never had a problem before, I told her I would be there momentarily, right after I picked up my ticket. I had forgotten that Will Call was on the other side of the Seattle Center. So, being the little nerds we are, we made jokes about quests and riddles that must be solved in order to enter Bumbershoot. I definitely found it strange when we arrived at Will Call, and there was a sign which read “Send only one representative up to the window, bring two forms of I.D.”. Funny, I thought I was just picking up tickets to an event, not the dossier of a top secret government official. So up to the window I went, and handed them my driver’s license and credit card. After a few minutes (!), the lady handed me my ticket. Ticket? I ordered TWO tickets. One for me and one for Dom. That, I thought, is why my credit card was charged $36 plus a service fee. Is THIS the service they were talking about? I told her that I definitely bought and paid for TWO tickets. I even got an email confirmation for said transaction which I foolishly did NOT print out because of my pathetic human faith in the robots that run the system. She asked “did you buy the tickets on the 25th?” “Yeeeeeees.” “Oh. Well, apparently, there were some computer glitches with a number of orders that day. Yours must have been one of those orders.” Ok. Any respectable business would have then said “So here’s the other ticket you ordered. Have fun!” She did not do this. Instead, she “offered” to take my credit card and call the “head office” to see if she could find a trace of the other ticket. Meanwhile, some other poor girl was going through the same bullshit at another window. She kept asking them if she could just get in there and check her email to show them she did, indeed, buy her ticket. This, again, should have been reason for them to admit mistake and just fucking hand the things over. But nay. 15 minutes later, I was called back up to the window. “I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t find the other ticket”. “Um. Ok, how do I get my money back for the other ticket I paid you guys for?” “That’s a matter you’ll have to sort out you’re your credit card company.” “I have to call my credit card company for your computer glitch?” “Yes ma’am”. “Can I buy another ticket from you for the original, pre-day of show price?” “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” I’m sure you’re real fucking sorry lady. This was my queue to stomp away from the window and begin an impotent string of obscenities as I stormed up the street. I realize it’s probably not that particular lady’s fault, which is why I didn’t yell at HER. But, who’s fault is it? And what kind of dystopia of customer service do we live in when I have to track down retribution for a mistake that Bumbershoot ADMITS to have made?

So, this being the day of the show, the ticket prices have gone up TEN FUCKING DOLLARS. Dom kindly suggested that he just go home so I don’t have to buy another ticket. But I didn’t let him do that. I just bought another exorbitantly priced ticket for a festival that used to be free, and asked the cashier who I should call to voice my outrage about having to buy another ticket. He told me, and we entered into the pit of the hippie and frozen banana hell that is Bumbershoot.

I checked the time and saw that if we tried to see the Decemberists, we could stay for, maybe, one song before having to head over to the comedy stage to get in line. So instead we opted to buy lunch in the Centre House and cut our losses. Or rather, MY loss, and everyone else’s misfortune for being around a crabby Jessica.

By the time we got in line for Patton, I was feeling a bit better. I was still outraged, but Patton is Patton and I knew that, barring any further fiasco that would prevent me from seeing Patton, I would be ok. We were in line at 1:30 for the 3:00 show. That may seem ridiculous, but, trust me, it was necessary. After a while, Chris and his friend (whose name STILL escapes me) showed up, followed by his friend’s girlfriend and about a billion of Ben’s countless acquaintances. A few of us played cards (with my fan-made Serenity playing cards that I procured at Comic-Con. Joss’ face is on the Aces. Yes, I am a NEEERD). Andrew showed up to try and jump the queue. We did not have a problem with this, nor did any of the other hundred of people in line who’s friends were doing the same things. However, since we were at the front of the line, and because Andrew has that shifty look about him (just kidding, Galoo!), a security fellow told him he couldn’t cut. WHAT? Andrew was sent away and we never saw him again.

At 2:45, they began to let people in for the show. It was around that time that I noticed a small gathering of people on the other side of the door. Who are they, I wondered? Well, Sherrard told me. They are people who paid EXTRA for their tickets in order to receive VIP bands that allow them to get into places FIRST, regardless of how many people are in the proletariat’s line. Ah. I see. Bumbershoot is REALLY sticking with the original “music for the people” concept, aren’t they? AAAAARG. Anyway, the special people went in and we filed in after. We still got fairly decent seats, however.

The first comic who came on did not identify himself. It’s ok. He was occasionally funny and mentioned about 100 times that he was from New York. Isn’t it funny how different New York is from other parts of the country? Like, say, Seattle? That guy thought so.

Next up was Paul Gillmartin, who is none other than the Paul of Dinner and a Movie with Paul and Anabell. Yes, he is a twat on that show. Here, he was pretty funny. He did a character (Who’s name…guess what…escapes me), in which he was a Republican representative on a tour of liberal events to field questions. At first, I thought he would be taking questions from plants in the audience, but after a few questions, I realized that these were real questions from well-informed, liberal Seattle-ites, and he was giving off-the-cuff, conservative prick answers like “George Bush doesn’t hate black people. He just doesn’t think about them” and “the reason we care more about fetuses than babies that are already born is because we don’t know whether or not they’re gay yet”. I liked him. But, the whole show being only an hour long, I was eager for him to get off the stage to allow for more Patton time.

Patton. Was. Amazing. He did a few of the jokes from his album, but he always does some new stuff and he always treats each individual audience as, well, an individual audience. He also said he LOVED Seattle audiences because they’re the only ones in which every single person actually gets his jokes. He said Seattle is a beautiful city made of “unicorn tears”. He said that because of this he needed to prepare himself for touring in places like Idaho, so handed out some cards with some heckles on them and had people read the heckles after he finished a joke. Good stuff.

You know, comedy is such a BROAD subject. It doesn’t seem right that someone like Dave Coulier or Ray Romano can be considered a comic because that puts him and Patton in the same field. And they SO aren’t. Patton is more like a liberal unifier with some jokes. When I see him, I feel better about the world. If someone with those ideas can be put in a position to speak to large audiences, and maybe just one little girl or boy in Indiana or somewhere will see him and change their minds about Bush, we just might be ok. After his set, the audience gave him a very earnest standing ovation, and he thanked us profusely and humbly left the stage.

I felt pretty good after that, but I wanted to try and stick around for Eugene Mirman who was up next. For some stupid reason, they required everyone to evacuate the theatre before bringing in the next group of people. Obviously, if I went back outside and got in line, there is no way I would have gotten back in. So we tried something I’d done successfully a few years back. We hung around the bathrooms, pretending to be waiting for someone. It didn’t work this time. The big beefy security guys said that EVERYONE had to leave the theatre. OoooooK. What’s with the tight security? Just as we were giving up on the dillydally, Eugene Mirman walked RIGHT past us. I froze, trying to think of some reason to get his attention. I had nothing and he was gone before I knew it. Oh well. We lost Ben to his other friends and stood around in a daze for a while.

Finally, we decided to kill some time in the beer garden before Okkervil River. Mmmmm. $5 MGD. $6 Mike’s Hard Lemonades. They taste so much better than the reasonably priced versions. After a while, Sherrard noticed Ahe and her friends on the other side of the garden. We stared at her for several minutes attempting to get her attention but it wasn’t working. Finally, I decided to play “creepy stalker” and call her on her cell phone. I told her “I’m looking right at you,” in my best lecher voice. It would have worked better if cell phones didn’t have caller I.D. Eventually, she saw us and headed over. Our group of 15 corralled in the middle of the garden until a table opened up. One of Ahe’s friends was a PERFECT gentleman and insisted that I take his seat because he couldn’t let a lady stand. How often does THAT happen from a young male? Like…never. Unless it’s Dom. And he HAS to do that or else he’ll look bad. This was a guy I just met and it left quite an impression. Thanks, guy. I do wish I could remember names. Eventually, Team Ahe declared that they were tired of Bumbershoot, and headed off back to the Hill. Team Brugos sat in the empty chairs for a while and then it was time for the parting of ways. They were off to see some One Reel (fuckers) short films, and we were to take in some Okkervil River. On our way out of the beer garden, we passed…EUGENE MIRMAN, who was smoking and talking to some people. We paused for a bit but I could still think of nothing to say other than “Hey man, you’re jokes make me feel good inside” and so we departed.

Two songs into the Okkervil River set, we realized that they were drunk and definitely did NOT give a fuck. They were speeding and sassing through their set and, as Sherrard noted, playing their songs in album order. If they didn’t give a fuck, neither did we. Fuck you, Bumbershoot. Mostly. Sherrard is going to email Patton and request that if he comes back to Bumershoot next year, he should also play a venue outside of the ‘Shoot so that his fans don’t have to be subject to metaphorical sodomy just to see him. I hope it works.

We opted, instead, to buy Sherrard a birthday dinner at the best little Pho house in Seattle. After Pho, we pushed it a little too far by getting a drink at the Jade Pagoda, when really, we should have all just gone home and slept. This was confirmed the next day when I realized that I’d left my tab open at the bar when we left. As drunk as I get, I’ve NEVER done that before. And this time, I’d only had ONE drink. That’s how mentally exhausting this weekend was. But fun. Definitely fun.

chimera british postage anatomy

Holy Christ on a Cracker! I just talked to my friend Ryan and apparently for my birthday present he got me…a ticket to see Oasis at the Everett Events Center on the 9th!!!!!

I hadn't purchased a ticket for myself for a couple of reasons, not the least of which being what happened the LAST time I went to see this band. I literally almost died. Twice. First, Faye's life was endangered along with mine. We were driven up to the show by a drunk, emotionally wrecked “friend” who didn't reveal to us his inebriation until we inquired as to why he was tailgating a BUS. Later that evening, I was nearly trampled by moshing frat boys and I had to crawl to the back of the Paramount, losing, in the process, my favorite maroon cardigan. Needless to say, this incident colored my feelings toward large concerts, the aforementioned “friend”, and Oasis themselves who did nothing to quell the rambunctiousness of the crowd. (I guess I was spoiled by punk rock acts like Avail who would actually refuse to keep playing if anyone in the audience was hurt by or in danger of being hurt by another person).

Regardless of these past feelings, I am now finding myself pretty damned excited for the show. Maybe Oasis live will be redeemed.

Thank you, Ryan! And Happy Birthday to me!

Is wait as expound

WEEKEND RECAP

Friday

After a particularly trying workweek for me and Meep, we decided to have a relaxing and quiet-ish evening at the Canterbury. We started out just the two of us and whiled away the time by outlining our new web series “America's Next Judge Reinhold”. I'll just let that sink in.
After a while, Sherwood showed up and later Borgia and Dom. Sherwood was already drunk and ended up leaving early. Around 11:00, we tired of the Canterbury and decided to try our luck with an adventure elsewhere (sans Dom who had to get up at 5am the next morning for a shoot). We paid our bill, leaving one of my remaining New Kids on the Block trading cards along with the tip. (I bought a pack at Archie McPhee's and have been leaving them all over town. The response is surprisingly positive). Anywho, once outside, we were at a loss for where to go. Nowhere on the Hill seemed to temp us. Finally, I remembered one of the places Faye and I have always wanted to go: 13 Coins. How can one NOT be seduced by a dodgy sign on the side of a major road with an arrow pointing to seemingly nowhere that boasts “24 hour dining and lounge”. So we hopped in Borgia's car and headed down there. When we finally turned down the right street and feasted our eyes on the green awning for the first time, we had mixed feelings. We couldn't really see inside and so whatever was on the other side of the door was going to be a surprise. To our shock, it was POSH inside. We went into the lounge which looked like Gentlemen's Club (but with ladies inside and no one wearing robes). We took a gander at the menu and found everything to be overpriced. Not what we expected at all. (And kind of not what I'd hoped. It was no Great American Dive Bar). But with 13 coins shellacked into the table, a mosaic ship lamp in the corner, and menthol cigarettes on the menu, everything checked out. We had one beer and called it a night. My curiosity is now sated and I can check 13 Coins off the list.

Saturday

I went to the noon yoga class and was happy to discover that the slow-talker wasn't teaching. When I got home, I felt pretty good. I had way more energy that I usually have after the 4:00 Sunday class. I think I will start trying to go to Saturday noon more often. SOOOOOO, after a shower and a small lunch, I met Faye to go to Value Village. We were costume shopping for “Retard to Retard” which we are shooting next weekend, right before the Earth opens up and swallows us. After that, we relaxed for a little while and met BennDunn for dinner at the Red Line. After having an orgasmic sandwich there a couple of months ago, I have been bugging Faye to go back there with me. (Actually, I've been bugging everybody, but she was the first one I could talk into going). The sandwich actually wasn't as orgasmic as the last time but it was still good. And a cool crisp beer is just what I needed to wash it down. Then we headed down to the Crocodile for the comedy stylings of Eugene Mirman. (If you visit his website, make sure you are on a computer with speakers). The opening act was the most ADORABLE cross between Chuck Barris and Cat Stevens. His name is Langhorn Slim and he's a 23 year old bluegrass prodigy. He plays guitar like the devil is after him. He dances around and sings songs about heartbreak like only a literate 23-year-old prodigy can. I think Faye and I were utterly smitten after about the second song. It's funny. I went in there all jaded and skeptical, ready to hate whatever he was about to play. I have been so displeased with new music lately. But when he started playing, I could actually feel my cold, dead heart melt and turn into ice cream and puppies. Buy his album. You won't regret it.
After Chucky Baby played, it was Ron Lynch from Home Movies. When Faye and I first got tickets, Brendon Small was on the bill. But according to his website, he done got busy. So we got Ron Lynch instead. It turned out great because my face hurt from laughing long before Eugene even hit the stage. Holy crap. The man is funny. I especially enjoyed his character bit in which he is a comedian who's suffered a nail gun injury. He stands on stage with a bandage on his head and just stares straight ahead. Meanwhile, on his lap top, his bit is played through a Stephen-Hawking-style voice generator. Effed up. And awesome.
Then Eugene came on and was even better than the first time we saw him with Stella so long ago. The best part was when he played a real recorded phone conversation between him and a Christian phone company that tries to get you to switch to their service by telling you that other phone companies support gay marriage. He totally takes the piss and they have NO IDEA. It's AMAZING to me how few Christians seem to have a sense of irony. Particularly the ones who say “ya'll”. Buy HIS album too.
After the gig, we drank some more and played a new game we made up wherein we decide which filmmakers, actors and films should be awarded “hacks”. As an example, Eli Roth gets 5 hacks. Were “Cabin Fever” not so over-hyped as being so extremely edgy and violent (which it isn't), we may have been less harsh. Kevin Smith gets 4 hacks. The only reason he doesn't get 5 is because of “Mallrats” which is entertaining enough. “Ferris Bueler's Day Off” gets 5 hacks because it turns out the character of Ferris Bueler is not endearing but rather a mooching, manipulative arsehole. Now you play!
Faye and I started craving some nachos from Shorty's so we popped over there for a Nacho Nightcap. BennDunn snapped some very compromising photos of Faye and I deep-throating a veggie dog. Hopefully they will never see the light of day. Ordinarily, we're all for amusingly inappropriate photos, but these didn't turn out that way. I can't explain why but they really do look disgusting and wrong. Horribly horribly wrong.

Sunday

I really DO love not having the pressure of 4:00 yoga hanging over me. It was very liberating. I went to the grocery store, tidied up a bit and watched a TON of tv. Delightful. I also happened to catch the end of “Pretty in Pink” on TV. And once again I realised that a film I found enjoyable as a kid is actually a huge load of crap. So at the end, the beloved Ducky, who is in love with Andie, “lets her go” be with Andrew McCarthy because he's such a nice guy. Aw. Poor Ducky. I bet this is going to be awful for him. Unrequited love is horrible. But wait a second…who's that young thing making eyes at him from across the dance floor? I don't know but she's hot! Andie who? And with that, all of the reason for us to care about him goes out the window. If they had only played it out a little bit different. Maybe if Ducky had flopped his sad ass down in a chair and the cute girl came over to find out what was wrong. She sits down and starts talking to him. He's still sad, but there is a hint that this young chicklet might help him get over it soon. But no, they had to go for the instantaneous erasing of any open-endedness. NO ONE CAN BE SAD. This is John Hughes' world. No one is allowed to have more than three emotions and CERTAINLY no one can go into the fade-to-black with unresolved issues. John Hughes, I give you 5 hacks.
Later, Faye and I went to the Mercury which, once a month, hosts a neat little shindig that's open to everybody. They have video games, music, drinks and legos! On this particular night, they were showing our movie so we went to introduce it. It was a great crowd and despite the fact that the sound and picture were AWFUL on their system, the audience was really receptive. Our movie didn't go on until 11 so we didn't get home until after midnight but it was worth it, I think.

blocky compendia gorham fluff charles dateline

WEEKEND RECAP

Friday

It was looking like it was going to be a poor turnout for our Robocop screening. At 8:00, no one had shown up yet (besides me, Faye and Dom. And Two of us live there), so we continued to watch Carnivale and be equally amazed by it’s brilliance and amused by it’s charming Dust Bowl dialogue (you sonofabitch, goddammit). Around 8:15, Sherwood arrived, but, by that time, we were too far into the episode to stop. So Sherrard, who uninitiated into the world of the Rousties, (not that those of us who were caught up had any better of an understanding of it), checked his email and padded around the apartment until we were finished. Around 9:00 we started Robocop (first watching 5 minutes or so of commentary which was long enough for us to learn two important and amusing details.
1) Verhoeven almost didn’t accept the offer to direct it because his first reading of the script “led [him] to believe that it was a standard American action film”. It wasn’t until his wife read it and convinced him that “there was a lot more going on here” that he decided to make his American directing debut.
2) He pronounces it “Rrrrrobocup”. It’s hard to type that out the way he says it. Basically, he rolls the first “r” and makes the whole word as close to one syllable as possible. Hilarious.

Around 10:00, krk arrives with snacky reinforcements and a friend who’s name has already escaped me. (Damn you, reefer!) BennDunn arrived around 10:30 in time to catch the end of the movie, drop off a copy of the Tivo’d “Reefer Madness” and a Polaroid of his person identifying himself as “1 Ben Dur”. Everyone met and adored Tobe who reveled in the petting orgy. And then we all retired to bed because we are all sleepy and lame.

Saturday

Faye and I had some writin’ ta do. We have all these “little bits” left to add to the feature script. Things that should be easy, but when you sit down to write them, they end up taking a dogs age and you’re googling random phrases like “rectal prolapse” for inspiration and the next thing you know, it’s time to go to a backyard BBQ and croquet match in the rain. I’m hoping we’ll only need one more week on this bad boy and then we’ll have completed draft # 3.
At 5:00, we headed to our friend Chris’s house to eat veggie BBQ and prefunk for the Reggie and the Full Effect show. We ate a delicious and gluttonous portion of veggie burgers, rice and kimchi (sp?) and homemade angel food cake for dessert. We enjoyed this meal whilst watching THE most fucked up TV ever created, Wonder Showzen. This was only the second episode I have ever seen and I have to admit that even this bloodlusty wench was a LITTLE grossed out when I first saw the bit about the Chewties. However, by the time they got to the “Leprosy Nachos”, I was already desensitized. Still, I must know who these people are and how they can possibly think of things so disturbing as a child in a Hitler costume interviewing people on the street.
After dinner, we decided to break in the newly grown grass in the backyard with a game of croquet. I have only played croquet once before and it was a looooong time ago so I have to say I think I did pretty well. I was in last place but I was still right behind everybody else so it wasn’t as cripplingly humiliating as, say, high school gym class. I can’t wait to play again! Halfway through the game, it began to rain. We thought we could play through, being hardened Seattleites that we are. We were wrong. The rain came down with increasing strength and we were forced to postpone our game. Luckily, it stopped before we had to leave, so we finished the game just in time to hop in Chris’s fancy and recently acquired antique convertible. No top down for us, but Faye still wore the fifties-style scarf I bought her for this very occasion.
We arrived at El Corazon (formerly Graceland) just in time for Reggie’s set. We were horrified to find that we were surrounded by children with a mean age of 18. Despite the presence of irritating children, drunk dudes and some guy farting tacos, the performance was great. I had previously held reservations because I heard that the lead Reggie is going through a divorce and it also saddened by the break-up of the Get Up Kids. Faye and I were both worried that this meant a return to the emo sensibilities of the GUK. It did not. It meant death metal. Very angry death metal. And people adorned in fake blood. Awesome.
We left as soon as the set was over, as we had no desire to stick around for New Found Glory or to spend any more time with these people. Since it was still early, we headed to the Hill for a drink. We started at the Wok and Grill but were dismayed to learn that their juke box was broken. Having no other purpose to remaining there, we decided an impromptu karaoke session at Jai Thai was in order. We made some calls to bulk up our group and proceeded to sing!
Highlights:
-Andrew’s surprise performance of “Power of Love”. We were trying to train him for his contest the following night where they choose the song for you. He clearly did not need training.
-Chris’s balls-to-the-wall, and no doubt sore-throat inducing performance of “Mother” by Danzig.
-Some guy with a devil lock who did the most dead-on performance of “The End” by the doors, followed later by an incredible Elvis impersonation. I think I have a crush on him.
-Erin’s always flawless “One Way Or Another”.
-Me doing “Say It Aint’ So”. It might not have been a highlight for other people, but for me it was loads of fun. I wish they had more Weezer at karaoke. I would KILL to do some songs off Pinkerton.
-Some poor girl choosing “Piano Man” and being drowned out by the entire bar singing along loudly.

Sunday

It started out as a perfectly normal Sunday but escalated to a bit of an emergency situation when we realized that Tobe was urinating blood. Faye and I took him to the emergency vet (right around the time when I would have gone to yoga. Doh!) and he was given antibiotics for a urinary tract infection. The poor little guy! I have to give him a pill twice a day for two weeks. For those of you that have ever had to give a pill to a cat, you know that it is typically a Sisyphus-ian endeavor. However, Tobe is a champ who takes his pills with little protest. We will know in a few days if his problem is clearing up. I’ve had the little guy for a week and he’s already been to the emergency room. Hopefully this is just a problem that he’s had for a while and was just never taken care of, rather than a sign of a weak immune system. Poor little feller.

Anyway, now we are back to Monday and this is THE critical week in the world of Snow Day. We have to send the movie off on Wednesday (Thursday at the latest) to make it into the San Diego Comic Con. Wish us luck!

College bitches taking it hard

Well, I've been so lucky with not getting the full-blown cold this season, but I had a hunch that as soon as I went on vacation that I would get it. And get it I did. I am now walking around with a cough and sore throat and generally feeling like ass. But that hasn't stopped us from doing cool stuff. (It's just prevented me from being able to get an early start…) I'm not going to go into detail (that's for the big post when I get back) but I will mention a few things.

-Chiselhurst Caves are rad
-I have been eating way too much
-I'm seeing the Electric Six tonight!

That's all for now.

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