Archive for August, 2008

26
Aug
08

Games People Play

I love trivia games.  My dream gig is Robert Osbourne’s job on Turner Classic Movies.  When I tell that to people and they say, “really,” I ask them to name a movie the own and give a two minute intro to LEGALLY BLOND off the top of my head.  People don’t like to play trivia games with me and in that respect I am the mythical hot girl/wallflower I always heard about who went to movies alone because she was so pretty it intimidated men.

The horror.

I once gave Scene It a try.  I game I don’t particularly like because I feel the questions are too easy.  Like those slides they used to show before the movie where you have to quickly unscramble the name of this actor: FORGAN MREEMAN.  This girl, Belen, had every edition of the game ever made and I misunderstood the rules so we lost the Music edition.  Having a better understanding of the rules, came back and won the TV edition.  By this time it was past midnight and we were all tired.  She pleaded for a tiebreaker and Kendra said, “what have you got left?  Jim’s tired.”  She pulled out the Movie edition.  Kendra agreed on the condition we go first.  Kendra instructed me not to hold back, something she’s caught me doing in the past because I want the game to be fun for everyone.  Kendra rolled the dice and I answered the first question.  This continued seven more times and I answered all the questions correctly.  The game was over in ten minutes.

The moral to the story: always bet on black.

I stumbled across this link this morning and after taking a stab at it decided there may be something truly wrong with me.  That and my ability to tell how many DVDs are in a case with my eyes closed.

http://www.empireonline.com/features/posterletters/

I managed to get 34 out of 46.  Not too bad.

25
Aug
08

Backward Forwards

I just checked my email and I have like six forwards from the same person.  This isn’t a person I speak to regularly.  Most of my communication from this person are through forwards.

And they’re incredibly lame.

The bad part is I have to read them.  It’s like the junk mail I get at home.  I open every one of them and I know it’s Toyota with a flimsy key that promises me riches and a Tercel if I come down there and open some chest.  I open these forwards and sometimes they’re four and five letters deep to even get to lame joke/picture/flash video of a monkey falling out of a tree.  Maybe a picture of Karl Rove’s face morphed onto Emperor Palpatine.  Hillary Clinton making out with Saddam Hussein.  There’s a dude who sends me nothing but Republican propaganda which is fine and well but those aren’t my politics.  It’s like sending Christmas cards to Muslims.  Just kind of a waste of time and energy.

My friend Heidi’s girlfriend, Crystal, always sends these news bulletins about not drinking water from a plastic bottle or Target is owned by the French and supports funding immigrant baby abortions or if you go to this website Microsoft is beta testing Internet Explorer 8 and they’ll send you a free Xbox.  Usually within an hour a half-dozen people have probably emailed her an article from www.snopes.com disproving this and she sends out an apology.

I file Crystal under the heading of “Means Well.”  She doesn’t know and she truly is a sweet kind woman.  However, those people who send me psuedo-blessings with the caveat I forward it to another ten people… those people are bastards.  That’s like naming names in front of the house of Un-American Activities.  I thought you were wishing good will for me but it seems nice things will befall me if I give you the names of my friends, otherwise I am doomed.  Those people are like some evil wish-granting Amway salesman.

This behavior is tolerated on the internet.  Can you imagine if Jehovah’s Witnesses came to your door and after they were done asked for ten addresses of your friends and you gave them to them?

“Do you know Jesus has a special plan for you?  How did we find you?  Jim Ford gave us your address.”

I’d be punched in the face by the end of the weekend.

I hate deleting emails blindly because I always think there may be some relevant information within.  There isn’t.  It’s the same mentality that I don’t hangup on telemarketers, I tell them I’m not interested and they usually keep going and I tell them they can either back away and nobody gets hurt or I will hang up on them.  Nobody wants to be hung up on and they always take it well.  When the Jehovah’s Witness come to my door I feel kinda good because they are trying to help me but unfortunately they are always trying to save my immortal soul while I am watching MAD MAX BEYOND THUNDERDOME or playing Rainbow Six Vegas and honestly, I’d rather be watching Tina Turner host a steel cage match with a mongoloid and a midget or killing terrorists than having my soul saved.  I tell them, sincerely, I’m good with what I got, but thanks for thinking about me.  They usually get on their bikes and peddle off.  I never take their literature because I know I am going to just throw it away and that’ll make me feel guity which is odd because I struggle with my faith but in the event I am wrong, I don’t want to be throwing away God’s newsletter.  I once took a Bible someone gave me and spent three days tricking someone into taking it because I couldn’t bring myself to throw it in the trash.

I’d like to think that little trick maybe saved some dude who needed saving and got him on the right path with his life.  More than likely, it’s in a landfill somewhere.

25
Aug
08

Alcoholics ASSEMBLE!

Here’s one of those marketing things that leaves me scratching my head?

This was from www.wine.woot.com, an sistersite to www.woot.com where I like to buy all kinds of stuff from.  I am a little puzzled at who thought comic books and wine go together.  Maybe the thought was that comic book nerds need to unwind and stay a little tipsy.

I also thought of the missed opportunity here of a Tony Stark/Iron Man liqour (since he was an alcoholic and all… and you though casting Robert Downey was because of his talent).  I thought of all the other inappropriate merchandising possibilities.  Flash condoms.  Wonder Woman Midol.  Incredible Hulk stretch pants.  Black Panther orange soda.  Then again, I am also the same guy who wondered the relevance of Indiana Jones on cereal boxes since the THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL takes place in the 1950s and Harrison Ford is old enough now that he could have just asked Moses where he put the Ark Of The Covenant.  Maybe Indiana Jones didn’t belong on Frosted Flakes and maybe he should have been on Kashi Whole Grain Granola Cereal or Raisin Bran.  Pimped him out on some adult diapers.  I am sure you could work him into a Boniva commercial since Sally Field should be doing honest work.  Harrison Ford… he’s just a whore.

25
Aug
08

Democratic Naming Conventions

Natalie’s mother called and told her she had a baby name.  Wait, come back here… put the cell phone down.  There is no baby, repeat: there is no baby.  Natalie’s mother is doing what I assume all future Mother-In-Law’s do which is they have a cart and then put the horse somewhere in front of it… let’s say Cleveland.

The baby name (for a girl) was Nima.  Natalie politely declined explaining we had a name, and no offense, her mother already had three shots at girl names, if she didn’t get what she wanted by now, that ship had sailed.

Apparently the name came from a Tyler Perry movie and while not a fan of Tyler Perry, I’m not above naming kids after movies.  Our Phantom Daughter is jokingly/seriously referred to as Ripley, after the Sigourney Weaver character is the Alien series (and before anybody writes me to tell me Ripley is the character’s last name and her first name is Ellen, I know that; this is not my first double feature).

The name gets used in conversation like, “I can’t wait to go on a vacation a few years from now with you me and Ripley,” or “you’re going to need a bigger car because Ripley’s kid seat is going to be tight in a Hyundai Accent.”  Then there is, “are you going to be mad at me if I show Ripley ‘Frankenstein’ when she’s five?”  If you couldn’t tell, that last one is mine which is followed by a lecture of age appropriateness and my argument that by the time you get past five, 1931 horror films will just be cheesy and unwatchable.

Attorney Mother versus Movie Nerd Father.  Irresistible Force, have you met Immovable Object?

I have rules for baby names.  I get a lot of shit for this because naming your kids, which I think is probably one of the most important things you do in your life and is a factor in their self-esteem and outward acceptance and perception, is usually done with an “if it feels good, do it” mentality.  If anybody knows me, you also know that’s not how I operate and none of this is surprising.

So this weekend we were at the home of a couple who, for the sake of their privacy, will be referred to as Nom and Ticole.  When the infamous Jim’s Baby Name Rules were brought up, Ticole asked what they were and because there are several, I decided it would be a blog.  So here they are.

1.  Never name a kid anything you don’t plan on calling them (or a nickname version of it).  People that are named Daniel but you call them Tyrell.  I know a woman who named her daughter Rebecca Reece  but called her Reece because that’s what she wanted to call her, but thought it didn’t sound professional enough so she threw the Rebecca in there.  If you want to call your kid Reece, then name your kid Reece.  This leads to:

2.  Give your kid the Supreme Court Justice name.  This is a name that sounds good with the words ‘Supreme Court Justice’ in front of it.  Brenda Saul’s son is named Dusty… not Dustin… Dusty.  Now say it with me, “Ladies and gentlemen and the Class of two thousand thirty six, Supreme Court Justice Dusty Sauls.”  It just hangs there in the throat, doesn’t it?  Jennifer Wiggington in her nineteen year-old naiveté wanted to name her daughter Diamond.  Great.  I’ll make sure for her eighteenth birthday I get her some shoes that won’t stuff the tabletops when she’s dancing.

3.  You can misspell a name.  A co-worker had taken a test and on her completion certificate they spelled her name ‘Bonnie’ and I heard her comment it was misspelled (hers was ‘Bonny’) and my immediate thought was “maybe you’re misspelling it.  As an experiment I Googled ‘Bonny’ and got eight million hits.  I Googled ‘Bonnie’ and got fifty one million.  I think that settles which is the more acceptable spelling.  Yvonne Turner has told me people constantly misspell and mispronounce Yvonne which I find odd since that name is about six hundred years old although I did see a Target cashier who spelled it Evon and she’s a troublemaker.  There is an illusion of individuality that because you spell ‘Angela’ with two ‘L’s it somehow makes it unique when in reality it probably just makes her  have to spell her name out for everybody.  Seriously, there are over six-billion people on the planet and odds are there is someone within sixty miles of where you’re sitting with the exact same name.  There are probably ten people with that name within ten square miles of Manhattan.  I knew another girl who named her daughter Ondraya (On DRAY ah) which I suppose is better than ‘Andrea’s insisting their names be pronounced that way.  This brings us to:

4.  Weird Syllable Emphasis.  In high school Carrie Guarcello insisted it be pronounced ‘KA ree’.  My sister-in-law Danielle’s sister is ‘Lo REN’ and not Lauren.  If I started asking people to pronounce ‘James’ as ‘Ja MES’ I’d be an idiot.

5.  Legacy names.  This is usually male ego at work here.  The only thing worse is having a super common name and naming your kid Peter Smith III which then relegates both you to Big Pete and Little Pete.  There and few things are sadder than fifty year old man being called Little Pete.  You have the opportunity to name a person and give them their own identity and you do this by giving them your name?  They’re already have your last name, they need your first name too?  What are you, Donald Trump?  You made a baby… do you have to sign it, too?  My good friend was born Emmett Louis Rhodes III and was immediately called Dusty.  I don’t know if this was an intentional reference to the wrestler or not.  Decades later he and his wife were buying a house and found he had a charged off credit card from Sears.  He told them he’d never had a Sears card, it must have been his fathers and they assured him it was his and were adamant about collecting the several thousand dollars they claimed he owed.  Eventually he asked when the card was issued and they told him, “1975.”  He asked what his birthdate was and they said, “1973.”  Oh you can get around it but then you violate Rule Number One where your kid’s named Pete but we call him Scooter.  And this leads to:

6.  Grown men with kids names.  This is a little off point but I have to bring this up.  The aforementioned Dusty hated the name Emmett growing up but the older he got, he just leaned in and took it (and for anyone who’s interested, his son’s name is Logan and thus a bullet dodged).  But once you get a business card or a career of prominence, dump the nicknames.  Scooter Libby?  Tommy Thompson (who’s parent’s actually named him Tommy violating Rule Two).  Was Bush putting together a cabinet or the He-Man Woman Haters Club?  There used to be a School Superintendent here named Skip Archibald and I kept thinking how far can this thing go?  Mayor Skip?  Governor Skip?  Would you really have faith in a President named Skip?

7.  Boys names should be masculine.  I’m probably going to have Natalie’s friends rain hell down on me for this double standard but I’m sticking by it.  I find often women name boys, not men.  Cutesy, warm names that are fine when you’re four, but not when you’re forty.  The top ten male baby names in America right now according to www.babynames.com are Aiden, Braden, Kaden, Ethan, Kaleb, Noah, Jaden, Connor, Landon and Jacob.  All male names should be able to be followed by the words, “is pissed and coming down here to kick your ass,” and suddenly, you want to be somewhere else.  Watch how this works: “Dude, you’re still here?  Bruce is pissed and he’s coming down here to kick your ass.”  Bruce sounds like a man who could beat me bloody.  Counterwise, “Dude, you’re still here?  Keyston is pissed and he’s coming down here to kick your ass.”  My response would be, “tell that fucker I’ll be here until seven because Ice Road Truckers is on at eight and I got shit to do.”  The good news is if you name your son Dawson he’ll probably never have a weight problem since he’ll never have any lunch money and will probably train himself to run very very fast.  In a fight, I’ll have Tony, Yuri and Joe watch my back before Landon, Kaden and Jaden.  Joe is the guy who fixes my car.  Tony is the guy who installed my cabinets.  I don’t want Tucker fixing my pluming… that’s what Carl does.  It is possible to go too far in the wrong direction.  Madonna’s son is named Rocco which is great if he wants to be a mob hitman or a bouncer at The Viper Room.  Sucks ass if he’s my accountant at H&R Block.  It’s rare but you can go wrong with too masculine girls names.  Brenda Sauls has a niece who I thought was named Raleigh which I assumed was like the city and thus cool and later realized it was ‘Rolly’ (ROL LEE).  Ewww.  She just went from hip girl with a city name to Lamont’s friend on SANFORD AND SON.

8.  Girls are no longer to have the middle names Ann, Katherine, Marie or Lynn.  People will tell you it goes with everything and that’s just lazy babynaming.  If you want flamboyance, here’s the place to do it.  You want your son to have your name, throw it in here.  Dusty probably would have had that credit scare had he been David Emmett Rhodes.  I knew a girl named Merrimmee, yeah, you read that right.  It’s pronounced “Mer REAM” but it sure as shit looked like “Marry Me.”  If her mom wanted to go wacky, the middle name is the place to do it.  Matt Damon’s middle name is Paige and you didn’t know that until I told you.  I wanted my daughter’s middle name to be Moneypenny and needless to say, Natalie shot that down fast, real fast.  The good part about a middle name is a serves as a great backup name if you decide you don’t like being Skylar, your parents already picked out something else for you.  Unless your Matt Damon.

9.  You should never name your kids after things unless you actually like the name.  Dusty had a harpie of a girlfriend named Milmary but we all called her Vickie.  We probably could have called her Pitstain and it would have been an improvement.  Apparently she had an aunt Milmary but I’ll bet a paycheck had that aunt not existed, that name never would have gotten to the table.  I saw a guy who named his kids Darth and Anakin.  Really?  That guy must be such a STAR WARS nerd I’m surprised anyone had sex with him… unless she’s the rare but elusive STAR WARS girl nerd in which case that is inbreeding and shouldn’t be allowed.  Not to say if Natalie had twins I wouldn’t be tempted by Luke and Leia but I am pretty sure I’d have enough sense not to do it.  I would, however, push for the SamNEric.

10.  Naming your kids things that aren’t names.  This one is vague and you really have to feel it out.  City names sometimes work like Trenton, Cheyenne, Austin, Paris or Brooklyn.  I don’t think Hoboken, Pittsburg or Sacramento would bode as well.  It’s mostly aimed at celebrities who have their own special definition of crazy when they have babies.  Apple?  Really, Gwyneth?  I expect that from Steve Jobs but not from you.  Jason Lee’s crazy ass named his baby Pilot Inspektor Riesgraf Lee because he blindly pointed into a dictionary twice and those were the words he landed on.  That’s nice.  You can do that same trick with a Baby Name book, ass-snack.  And on top of that he spelled Inspector wrong.  Jeanna Turner named her son Talon and Angela Harold named her daughter Nestle like the cocoa company and now she can spend the rest of her life pronouncing “Nes LEE” for people who think she wants to cuddle.  Pox, Maddox, Shiloh, Knox and Zaharra are the names of that Benetton ad Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have been making.  Great, your kid is named Pox… like the disease.  As batshit crazy as Tom Cruise is thought to be, he named his kid Suri and I could get behind that.

11.  Avoid trendy names.  Anything you saw in a movie or a pop culture event two years prior to your kid’s birth should immediately be void.  I like GOOD WILL HUNTING as much as the next guy but the only thing the world needs less than more girls named Skylar are boys named Skylar.  My good friends Joelle and Charlotte’s son is Tristan as so many other boys circa LEGENDS OF THE FALL.  It’s not that you can’t name your kids after stuff like that.  My girls names (both of which have given a motion denied) were Marnie and Sloan after the Hitchcock film and Mia Sara’s character in FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF.  Quick!  Name someone you know name Marnie or Sloan?  Exactly!  Easily spelled.  Easily pronounced.  Both named after movies that are over twenty years old.  Becky Wilson’s son is named Nico and I immediately said, “Like (Steven Segal’s character) Nico Toscane in ABOVE THE LAW.”  She was shocked I knew this but I am Jim and that movie is twenty years old.

12.  Natalie likes the name Olivia and she’ll tell you it’s from THE COLOR PURPLE but I know damn well it’s from Mariska Hargitay’s character on LAW & ORDER: SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT.  I told her it was too popular and we had to go to www.babynames.com where it is number eight and has been in the top ten since 1999 and the debut of LAW & ORDER: SVU… the defense rests.

13.  Making up names.  This is mostly for my brothers and sisters of color.  When the miniseries ROOTS aired in the late seventies there was this historical consciousness awakened among black people.  That’s all well and good.  What isn’t is it manifested itself by people wanting to give their children African names but they didn’t do this by researching African names but instead making up names that sound African and now we’re three decades into Rau’shee, Deontay, Taraje and Bershawns.  If you were interested where I got those from, they were all on the United States Olympic teams.  And white people do stupid thing all the time, fine, but as my father used to tell me, they aren’t my responsibility, I’m talking to you.  You can’t just throw ‘La’ and ‘De’ on the front of a name and ‘isha’ and ‘iqua’ on the end and expect it to work.  And that combining the parents name is ridiculous.  I met a girl named Cedricka once.  I hurt for days afterwards.  And so we’re clear, apostrophes have a purpose.  The Irish have last names like O’Connell and O’Malley because it was originally Jerry of the Connells and eventually he became Jerry O’Connell.  There is no difference between Rau’shee and Raushee or KeyShawn and Keyshawn.  Stop this.  If you want name kids with African sounding names, go to the library and find a book of African names.  Oh, a black girls names Ebony are totally unnecessary.  I’d pay good money to see a white girl named Ivory (although I seriously did meet a white girl named Lucretia at Spring Break).

14.  Hyphenated last names on children are stupid.  I am all for women keeping their last names, it’s a part of who you are.  You want to hyphen, that’s your business.  But when you have a kid, somebody needs to start making choices.  A kid with a moniker like Ashley Schmidt-Johnson looks like she’s been married twice and she’s six.  This is worse with boys because hyphenated names are generally used by married women and now their sons have this.  Herds of boys with married and maiden names.  Don’t ask me what they’re names should be.  I don’t know.  Flip a coin.  Armwrestle.  Rock, paper, scissor you way to an answer.  I don’t care.  Just don’t let it happen again.

And there you have it.  Jim Ford’s Fourteen Rules for Naming Children.  There are exceptions if the name is foreign, etc.  If I have insulted you because your named your child Tiberius or Kale, sorry.  I probably wouldn’t marry your wife or have bought the car you drive, either…

Unless you’re Jerry O’Connell in which case my wife would be Rebecca Romijn-Ford and I am pretty much betting he drives a better car than my 1998 Isuzu Rodeo that doesn’t start unless it’s in neutral.

less you’re Jerry O’Connell in which case my wife would be Rebecca Romijn-Ford and I am pretty much betting he drives a better car than my 1998 Isuzu Rodeo that doesn’t start unless it’s in neutral.

21
Aug
08

Sans Comic Sans

I came back from lunch and found a notice in my email inbox that someone at work had died recently.  Apparently they’d had cancer several times and succumbed to it.  I never met this person or heard of her before now (because there are probably slightly over a thousand people who work here and I maybe know twenty).

The point of this is the email.  Often we get announcements which generally come in the form of a Mircosoft Word attachment with instructions to post it for those without email access.  The message was clear with a nice picture of the woman but it was written in the Comic Sans font.

I hate Comic Sans.

Furthermore, is there any less appropriate font for a funeral notice than the light and airy “aren’t I wacky” Comic Sans?

Women love this font.  I don’t know why.  I used to get emails at the bank from women who would have it as their default font.  There was also inevitably someone who knew how to change the Windows default font resulting in several middle-aged women having all their windows using the Comic Sans font (along with the extra large pink and black theme to adorn the wallpaper of their dogs on Santa’s lap).

Damn you, Bill Gates… sometimes individuality is a bad thing.

You can’t go to MySpace (or as I like to think of it, Satan’s blog), and feel the wrath of a site where they’ve taken the power to create  webpages out of the hands of professionals and nerds and given it to every jerk who somehow thinks their life events warrant international distribution.

And all those fuckers love Comic Sans.

Not that it’s wrong to think you’re opinions deserved to be broadcast… hell, I write jibberish all over this site.  But for the love of Yul Brenner, neatness counts people.

I think people like Comic Sans because it resembles handwriting, albeit, the handwriting of a slightly slow ten year old in rural Louisiana, but handwriting nonetheless.  It’s the same reason women like those horrible calligraphy fonts but at least they look classy.  People use those when they want to make mail-merged invitations look like something you should wear your fancy pants to.

I could honestly get by with maybe ten fonts.  I am a Tahoma fan myself.  Clear, rounded, pleasing to the eye.  I use Courier New because it looks like a typewriter and if it was good enough for Edward R Murrow then it’s probably good enough for me.  I wonder if anyone will ever publish a novel completely in Comic Sans.  Maybe had Guttenberg printed the Bible in Comic Sans there would be a lot less war because nobody would have taken it seriously.  Imagine the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution in Comic Sans.

That looks like it should be followed by Thomas Jefferson’s Five Favorite Bands, a picture of him throwing the two-fingered salute with a stein of ale and which character he’s most like on Gossip Girl.  It’s hard to take seriously one of the most important documents ever written when it looks like it was  transcribed by Charles Schultz.  Had we delivered that to King George III he probably would have hysterically spit tea all over his puffy shirt and two hundred years later we’d be calling French fries chips and eating fried fish wrapped in newspaper like savages being served to us by Mexicans with Cockney accents.

http://www.bancomicsans.com/home.html

19
Aug
08

Land Of The Lost

When I put together a list of things I am attracted to in people, one of them is people who have a passion for things.  It sounds simple but it’s fairly rare.  By this I mean, music, literature, fashion, history, movies, art, football, architecture, travelling, food, what have you.  Your kids don’t count.  Anything that can return love doesn’t count so there goes your wife, husband, parents, dog, fish, etc.

I watched August Rush a few days ago (if you skip it you won’t be missing much) but there is a line Robin Williams says that you have to like music more than you like food.  That hit a nerve with me.  I am sure if my options were losing a finger or never watching movies ever again, my left pinky would be getting really nervous, really fast.

This was a criteria of mine because I have things I love and you can’t understand that unless you’ve been there.  My parents never understood it.  I don’t really know if my brother does.  His wife Danielle once said Bobby loves football and even he denied it.  I explained to his wife that he likes football but he doesn’t love it.  It gets excited when the season starts and he follows coaches he likes but he doesn’t own a single piece of football merchandise save a Florida Gator sweatshirt he bought because he was cold.  I have never seen him get into an argument about football and I have known him over thirty years.  He doesn’t read books or magazines about football.  He just enjoys it as a fan and there is nothing wrong with that.

Maybe a decade or so ago my family and I were talking about death (yeah, my family does that… look the reaper dead in the eye and whisper, “is that all you got, Susie?”  Somewhere in the conversation it was made clear in the untimely event of my death, my comic book collection that I had amassed since 1986 would promptly be taken to the flea market and sold.  And not sold for value, sold just to get rid of them.

I can see my mother behind a makeshift table built from plywood and two table horses surrounded by a fort of longboxes telling people, “Fifty cents a piece!”

My first appearance of Venom in Spider-Man #298 signed by Todd McFarlane?  “One dollar,” she’d yell like a carnival barker.

Superman #1 signed by John Byrne.  “Five dollars and you can have the whole stack.”

I shudder to think of what happen to my Crisis On Infite Earths hardcover signed by George Perez and Marv Wolfman where he wrote, “When I kill The Flash… he stays dead.”  Actually it doesn’t say that… not that I didn’t ask him to write it.  He refused.  On eBay, that’d be like a picture of Harry Houdini locking his keys in his car.

When I moved to Orlando I remember coming home and finding my movie posters in a box in the garage.  Not rolled or even (dare I say it… folded), just jammed in there like used wrapping paper on Christmas morning.  Full Metal Jacket.  The Goonies.  Back To The Future.

I came home and called my friend Jessica and asked if I died and sent her my comics, would she keep them safe and maybe her son, Jordan (who was five) could read them when he was older.  She agreed.  Since then, that’s always been the plan.  Even I don’t know why I have some of the stuff I have.  Probably because there has never been a Natalie to stop me.  Replica lightsaber… check.  Gopher that dances to Kenny Loggin’s “I’m All Right”… check.  Cast Away Wilson volleyball, Hovito fertility God, singing Mogwai… check, check and check.  Crouching Tiger, Reservoir Dogs, Bruce Lee action figures?  Got ‘em.

Only now when I come home with movies do I feel a little guilty because she sees the Best Buy bag and asks what I got.  Luckily, we’re not at the point in our relationship (and hopefully never will be) that she gives me shit for it.  Honestly, I need this copy of The Road Warrior.

God doesn’t let me have lots of expendable income because I honestly would give this dude $3 million dollars and then turn around and open a museum or maybe donate the whole shebang to the Library of Congress.  I feel for the guy because he’s probably been having one hell of a great time his whole life amassing a collection that is unrivaled but unfortunately, important only to him.

14
Aug
08

Two Women To Disappoint…

This is the kinda stuff that always happens to me when Natalie leaves the country, damn it!

http://www.scarlettjohansson.com/

Probably for the best.  It more than likely would have ended up like a very bad William Baldwin or Stephen Baldwin movie.

14
Aug
08

My Little China Girl (Ooh Baby, Just You Shut Your Mouth)…

In between watching Mike Phelps win everything he touches (I think Meredith Vieira just said he won a Latin Grammy, the Congressional Medal of Honor and a Darwin Award last night), I heard this dumbass story:

The little nine year old Chinese girl who sang at the opening ceremonies was lip-syncing, no big deal, Whitney Houston lip-synced (lip-sanced?) The Star Spangled Banner at the Super Bowl.  That’s fairly common.  Oh wait, Chinese girl lip-synced for another girl because she was, wait for it, cuter than the real singer.

Ouch.  That must really suck be a girl in China (already a mark against you), invited to sing at the Olympics (woo hoo!) in what is essentially your country’s coming out party for the twenty-first century (awesome!) and then told your too fugly to represent your country (d’oh!).

It reminds me of that thing they do on American Idol where they tell you get out… but before you go, sing us another song so we can see why you lost.  You should be allowed to do that everywhere.  You break up with someone… but before you go, can you make me a grilled cheese sandwich?

Seriously, has anyone ever seen an ugly Chinese kid?  No, you know why… because they’re all adorable.  Everybody knows that.  There are unwanted babies in Africa, Europe and South America but nobody adopts those because everybody wants Asian babies.  The hierarchy of cute babies is always Asians, Blacks, Indians and everybody else ties for fourth.

And those pale, pasty Irish kids with the blue veins I can see through their skin Lestat-style… well at least you’ll grow up to make great beer and you have the lock on redheads so that’s something.

Everybody thinks they’re babies are cute, but they aren’t.  And it only gets worse the older you get.  In fact, when someone inevitably asks me (referring to their own child), “isn’t she the cutest baby you’ve ever seen,” I always answer with a, “she’s okay,” “cute considering the parents,” or an “I’ve seen better.”

That’s what they get for asking me loaded questions.  That’ll teach them.  Nobody likes your kid as much as you do (and possibly your parents).

Oh wait.  I forgot bi-racial babies.  Okay, as babies, they’re nothing special but when they grow up, step back and look at those chicks through a box with a pinhole because your human eyes won’t be able to stand the pretty.  I am so glad we had segregation because without it there is no Rihanna and that’s a world I just don’t want to be a part of.  And while I am at it I would like to do as much as possible to encourage Latinos and Asians to hook up because the world could use some more Filipino/Cuban chicks.

Why is Philippines spelled with a ‘PH’ and Filipino spelled with an ‘F’?

Anyway.  Here is that kid.  The pretty one they used is on the right.  The talented one they thought was a skank is on the left.

Sure, she isn’t giving Kelly Hu a run for her money and I am sure Nautica Thorne is sleeping fine tonight.  But Honorable Royal Emperor Grand Dragon of China, you should have cut her a break.

13
Aug
08

Stephanie Says… So It Shall Be Done

Natalie’s good friend Stephanie Seguin is a writer.  I envy her for that (eventhough I’ve written for local theatres, this blog and about eight screenplays including Mortal Saints that was finished a week ago).  But Stephanie has written a book.  Real writers write books.  Not comics, screenplays or novels.  Three hundred pages of actual prose that began as blank pages and become the abyss you gaze into.

Yes, blank pages.  I’m old, my original screenplays were written on a typewriter.  Leave me alone.

Anyway, Stephanie is shopping her book to agents and one of the things they are looking for is how many people read her blog.  So here I am acting as Stephanie’s pimp and from now on I will be referred to as Suga Bear and she will be known as Rockets Redglare (according to www.hookernames.com… dude, I am just kidding, there is no site there, stop that before you get in trouble at work).

So what I am asking you to do is take a few minutes between checking your MySpace and watching inspirational profiles on Olympic athletes set to John Tesh piano and check out her website:

www.stephaniesays.com

Leave a comment.  She’ll appreciate that.

12
Aug
08

I’ll Take Movies Directed By Ben Stiller For The Win…

Roger Ebert once said critics just like to know they’re right.  What it’s about is secondary.

Natalie’s sister, Adrienne, was here last week and somehow we started talking about computers and she started talking about her Mac and I made the comment, “Nobody has Macs.”  By “nobody,” I mean general consumers or anyone not working in graphics or imaging.  Apple represents 4% of the personal computing market.  All those stickers on the backs of Accords you see… those people bought iPods.  They’ve probably never touched a Mac computer.  How often do you see them in a Best Buy?

“Everybody has Macs,” she assured me.  I was puzzled.  “Really?” I thought.  Maybe because this was California.  They’re progressive people.  Maybe that’s where the concentration of Macs had been because surely they weren’t in my local bank or the DMV or the Blockbuster around the corner.

So a few days later I am watching My Life On The D-List on Bravo and Kathy Griffin is dating Steve Wozniak, creator of the Apple PC and all-around billionaire genius who enjoys Segway polo and buying suits from Men’s Warehouse (two for $100 he’ll tell you… he’s not cheap, he’s just a nerd).  So I Wikipedia him and the first paragraph says blah blah blah invented the first Apple I in 1975 while attending the University of California at Berkeley with Steve Jobs.

Adrienne attends the University of California at Berkeley.  No shit everybody has Macs.  It would be like drinking Powerade at the University of Florida.

Again, proven correct and the Gods shine on me.

So this morning I am reading Roger Ebert’s review of Tropic Thunder (2008) and in the final paragraph he says it’s better than Ben Stiller’s directing debut, Zoolander (2001).  Well, he’s wrong.  Ben Stiller directed Reality Bites (1994) and The Cable Guy (1996) before Zoolander.

I can do without Reality Bites.  Cable Guy and Zoolander and both the works of a misunderstood genius.

So the highlight of my week is getting to email a person ridiculously smarter than me in film and telling him he was wrong.