Man versus Woman

This is long overdue.  I was assigned this review about a month ago, did the grunt work right away, and then procrastinated due to reading, a cruise, and the Red Sox.  In any case, I'm doing it now and that's what counts.

The following scenario is true 99% of the time:  Ask a man if he likes the movie The Big Lebowski and he will emphatically say yes.  Ask a woman if she likes it and she will emphatically say no.

I first saw this movie maybe 6 months after it came out and I remember not liking it, in true female fashion. But I kept wondering why there's such a gender chasm in its followers and I decided to watch it again to see if I'm still on the girl side of things.  Theresa gave me the assignment of reporting back on my findings.  Here they are.

I am a man.  Wait, let me rephrase.  I'm a woman who sometimes dresses up like a man.  I can confidently say that I liked the movie.  I can also confidently say that I did not love it.  Obviously I liked the colorfulness (it's a word) of the characters. But then, the Coen brothers are known for their original, eccentric characters, so there's no surprise there.  I think I would have been even more bored than I already was with the plot if the bits of humor mixed in and the characters' nuances didn't add to the scenes.

Things that were good:  any scene with John Turturo, the concept of the white russians, the dream sequence (mainly due to the costumes and the music), the soundtrack, John Goodman (!), Philip Seymour Hoffman

Things that were bad:  Tara Reid (this can be said for any movie she's in), not using Steve Buscemi to his potential, the scenes with the "cowboy" talking to the camera at the bowling alley bar, the plotline around Julianne Moore

I guess this movie is a typical Coen brothers movie which means I should have known that I would think it's good artistically but not good entertainingalingly (not a word).  In other words, I can see why people would like it.  But I still can't see why it's split between men and women.  Is it the bowling?  The swearing?  Tara Reid?  And are those the same reasons why women don't like it?

I think I'll stick with watching movies and not reviewing them.  I'm better at the former....

Is Steve Wozniak still single?

I don't even have my new MacBook at home yet (it's still at the Apple store where all my music, pictures, and porn are being transferred on), but already I'm becoming an annoying Mac person. All I do is look up applications and widgets to download once I get it. I have decided that I will need daily sunrise and sunset times for every location in the world, 4 different versions of Freecell, a simulated rollercoaster ride, a demo version of Jeopardy, Passport Photo Studio which will allow me to take and print my own passport photo, 2 jigsaw puzzle games, and the Urban Dictionary word of the day. Will I use any of these things? Probably one of the Freecell games. And maybe I'll give Jeopardy a whirl, but I can definitely see myself giving up after completely bombing on the World History category.

I won't shut up about all the wonderful things iWork can do. But really - how often will I use a Yard Sale template or a keynote presentation? I mean, I could make a slammin' keynote file for Walter about how the kitchen sink is not an appropriate place to urinate blood, but I'm guessing he just won't listen nor appreciate it. I haven't spent the $49 yet on this software, but I'm going to download the free trial and see if I like it. My other option is to download Neo Office, the Mac version of Open Office. And while I'm sure this will more than do the job for standard word and excel type of applications, there's just something about iWork that is calling out to me and begging me to purchase it.

I'd say the thing I'm most excited about with my new Mac is the iMovie feature. I've (clearly) never made a movie. But now that I have some great software that is so user friendly, I think I'm going to make a movie about everything I can. Potential topics: 1) A documentary on the dude who works at the library - Why is he so quiet? Why does he cross his legs like that? Is he 25 or 45? Why does he print out the receipt every time for me when he sees me go outside and immediately throw it in the trash can? 2) A Fight Club montage of Harvey pummelling Walter. (Seriously. You should see these guys wrassle.) 3) A birthday movie for my Mom complete with clips of me perusing JDate.com, using coupons at CVS, calling Nana to say hello, and taking down the picture she hates of her and my Dad where she's not wearing makeup.

Irregardlessly of what I make my movies about, you can be sure that I will (at least try to) embed them in this blog. So get ready. My new MacBook will benefit everyone.

Have I mentioned I'm excited???

Jamie Lynn Spears' baby's daddy is a pipe layer. I am not making that up.

Not too much going on. And so a couple snippets will have to suffice on this going-to-be-excruciatingly-long Friday.

I went to see a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at an outside venue near Tower Bridge this week. It was the first time I had been to an audience participation show, but it sure as heck won't be the last. Except next time I'll be dressing up; now I just have to decide whether to wear a gold sequined hat, a ratty maid outfit, or a corset with garter straps.

Yesterday I overheard someone at work saying they had made a "school boy error." I was left wondering if this meant they had blinded someone with a slingshot, pulled a girl's pigtails, or hid a frog in the teacher's desk.

Like I said, it's been slow going. In the meantime, here's a picture of G's desk to keep you entertained. (Please pay special attention to the "figurines" on his monitor stand.)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand it’s raining again

The short story: Don’t go see the movie Heartbeat Detector.

The long story: Time Out London magazine sent me a free pass to go see a French flick that sounded somewhat interesting. And by that I clearly mean that I manipulated a past email they sent me and changed the date to May 13 and the movie title to Heartbeat Detector and voila! Instant movie pass! (I’m okay with this since these movie screenings are never at capacity.) I show up at 6:20 to the 6:30 showing and the theatre is sparse. I know it’s not going to get much more populated either. Here is a picture of what the seating looked like. “Other People” are blue squares, “Yours Truly” is the pink square.

Enter a man and his girlfriend. They stop and scan the theatre, assessing the seating situation. Guess where they decide to sit. Take a look back at that seating plan. Look at all the empty seats. LOOK AT THEM!!! Now, I will ask you again. Where do you think this wanker and his cow of a girlfriend decided to sit? Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaat’s correct. Right. Next. To. Me. (Wanker and cow are green squares.)
So fine. They’re sitting next to me. I can deal with that. I just won’t be able to drape my legs over the armrest (which may or may not be a rude thing to do anyway) and if it’s a tearjerker of a film, I’ll just have to be discreet about wiping my tears. But then. Then, my friends. He takes out a sandwich and begins to attack it with his face. It sounded like like the sound effects from Jurassic Park. I prayed that he would take big bites and just get it over with already. I didn’t care that I was staring at him and making judgemental faces; I was just hoping he would catch me glaring at him and realize that wild boars have more etiquette than he does. So finally(!) he finishes the sandwich. And I breathe a sigh of relief. But no sooner do I finish thinking, “What an arsehole,” that he takes out a Fosters tall boy. For the love of all that is holy!!! And so the loud beer sipping begins, followed by the silent, yet pungent, beer burping. At this point the movie hasn’t even started yet and I am contemplating walking out. Between sips he leans over to French kiss his girlfriend and all I can do is wonder, “Who is this woman that she not only tolerates this disgusting behaviour, but she is still physically attracted to him enough that she wants to kiss that mouth?”

The movie begins. It is dreadful. It is the slowest movie I have ever seen and there’s a scene that is just literally one man singing for 10 minutes. He trails off at some points and you think he’s done but just like Austin Powers peeing for the first time after the cryogenic freezing process is complete, he starts right back up again. Everyone in the theatre laughed when this happened because they too couldn’t believe that there is a filmmaker out there that sadistic. But I continue watching. Because I like to boost my culture levels and watching an awful French movie seems like a good way to do that.

But that man. Oh, that man. He starts to do this nose breathing/throat clearing thing. At first I think he’s laughing…you know, one of those big-burst-of-air-through-your-nose types of laughs. But nothing funny was happening in the movie. And then he did it again, a little more abrasively this time, and I cringed thinking, “Oh heavens to Murgatroyd! He has a nervous coughing tic! Will the horror never end?!” And so it continued. For the next two and a half hours! One time it was so loud that I thought for sure someone would say something like, “Hey buddy, if you’re gonna do that, take it outside will ya?” It was terrible. It was soul-wrenching. It was homicide-inducing.

I went home and took 6 hot showers trying to wash the bad away.

Tube delay due to a person UNDER a train

One of the perks of living and working in downtown London are the world movie premieres. Case in point - Sex And The City: The Movie last night in Leicester Square. Here is where I'd like to tell you that I was in the front row of the crowd, got autographs from SJP, Kim, Kristen, and Cynthia, and took amazing pictures that I will now sell to Hello! Magazine for oodles of cash. However, I'll opt to not lie and tell you that I made Yulia stand on some street corner with me for 35 minutes while the limos drove past and I tried to peer in the tinted windows to try to discern (to no avail) who it was. This got old quickly and Yulia was itching to be anywhere but there. In my defense, unless we had started queueing at noon for a 7:30 premier, there was no way we were going to get a glimpse of anyone; there was just an overwhelming amount of screaming girls and flamboyant guys. But honestly. For a show BASED IN NEW YORK whose title even includes a REFERENCE TO NEW YORK and a plot line that CENTERS AROUND NEW YORK, why oh why would someone choose to have a world premiere in London?! I am assuming money had something to do with it and that people aren't that dumb.

There was a big presentation at work last Friday for some big shot manager who is leaving the company. My friend K was in charge of organizing the card, gift, and presentation. So we're all standing around watching as this guy opens all 7 of his gifts (I told you he was important) and Aussie T says in front of everyone: "What about my idea for the gift, K? Is she not coming?" (This is the type of stuff I miss about the people from Australia.)

The problem with stopping at the bathroom before you go outside to read on your lunch break is that you're just the freak walking into the work bathroom with a book under your arm.

Joke of the day that is just so horrendous it has no choice but to be funny: What's green and sings rock 'n roll? Elvis Parsley

London's Crazy Headlines:
Stunning Results For Police Tasers
Bodies Of Two Babies Are Found In Toy Boxes
I Have Just Been Run Over By A Cow

Hit it, Rockapella

Call it residual paranoia from being mugged in Chicago, but if I’m walking by myself at night, I am constantly looking around to see who’s walking nearby. Tonight on my way home from the Tube, I noticed a man walking about twenty feet or so behind me. He was walking faster than I was so he quickly caught up to me. As he passed by I realized I had nothing to fear from this man because, this man you see, well he was eating a banana. And I am willing to bet a large amount of money that no one has ever been mugged by a person eating a banana.

Danny Wallace. You probably don’t know that name right now, but I’m guessing you soon will. Or at least you soon should. Because Danny Wallace is a funny, funny man. When I find a person whose humor I think is original, witty, and intelligent, I have to find everything they’ve written and read it within a span of about two weeks. It happened with David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs and now it’s happening with Mr. Wallace, a British BBC radio/tv personality, author, etc. I first read his column in a weekly London magazine, The Shortlist. In fact, he is the author behind the amusing story about the Subway sub I plagiarized on my blog; but when I did that, I had no idea the extent to which his humor extends. (He is also at the top of the list as to why I think British humor is better than American humor, but that’s another story.) This summer, a movie starring Jim Carrey is being released called Yes Man. Danny Wallace wrote the book the movie is based on (I’m telling you this so I can yet again say ‘I knew about this way back when’). Basically he decides that he says No too much in life, and to become a better person he says Yes to everything for a year. Hilarity ensues. In addition to making me laugh out loud in public places, his book really does make you stop and think about the choices you make in life. How merely saying Yes to something as small as a homeless man asking you if you have any spare change can be life altering.

"When you think about it, probably some of the best things that have ever happened to you in life, happened because you said Yes to something. Otherwise, things just sort of stay the same."

I highly recommend this book (as well as his other two books which I have not read yet but am willing to bet are just as side-splittingly funny) and I’m sure they will soon be on the front display table at Borders just in time for the movie’s release. Also, I might just have to start posting his weekly Shortlist column so that you can also read his opinion about eating McDonalds more than once a week, people who arrive on time to parties, and drinking beer at 10 in the morning. You’ll thank me for this.

On a completely unrelated note (as usual), I would like to thank my sister for sending me the link to a YouTube list of Sesame Street’s 50 “Greatest Hits.” It was great to see clips of Captain Vegetable, the Teeny Little Super Guy, Richard Pryor saying the alphabet, and Smokey Robinson singing “U Really Got a Hold on Me” to a letter U. It was NOT, however, great to see (a first time for me due to the fact that it aired in 1982 and I was only 1) the clip of everyone explaining to Big Bird that Mr. Hooper had died and wasn’t coming back. I may or may not have cried. (To be fair, I was technically only “tearing up” until I heard Bob’s voice quiver and Maria’s eyes well with tears. Then it might have turned into actual crying.)

*music – A fine word like ‘waffle’ would turn out just awful, Oh W’s grand as can be

I’m in crush with you

Someone sneezed at work and it sounded exactly like a coyote howl. It was a severe ‘achoooo’ with the sound in the shape of a bell curve. I’m surrounded by a bunch of animals. Animals in French cuffs.

Last night, for the first time since I arrived in London, I saw someone fall down the escalator in the Underground. I am surprised it took this long for me to witness it (and even more surprised that it didn’t happen to me) since those escalators are incredibly dizzying. He didn’t fall all the way down the escalator, though. Now THAT would have been something. (I am a bad person.)

How many apricots is TOO many apricots?

London’s Crazy Headlines:
- Sword gang convicted of killing teenager (fyi – it was a Samurai sword)
- Cat poo cuppa for £50
- Girl finds father rotting in chapel
- Woman leaps to death after tick bite
- Jail over 16 imaginary children
- Baby No. 2 from 19-yr-old sperm

One of the little ways London is more polite than your average American city is that if a London city bus isn’t operating, its sign will say ‘Sorry – Not In Service.’ Now, when was the last time an American public transportation system apologized for not running?

I got a free pass to go see the new Colin Farrell movie In Bruges last night. Afterwards, because I’m a delinquent, I snuck into Drillbit Taylor. (I didn’t choose this one; it was the only movie starting at that time.)
#1 In Bruges was kinda lame.
#2 Ralph Fiennes is probably one of the greatest actors of our time (even though his name is pronunciatingly deceitful).
#3 I feel like I could have been Seth Rogan.

Let me explain. Seth Rogan is one of the great minds behind Knocked Up, Superbad, Freaks and Geeks, and Drillbit Taylor. I’m pretty sure every movie or tv show he has written has referenced a Bar Mitzvah, and his hilarious writing always centers around the nerdy kid in high school; so basically, he writes about HIS adolescent experience. But this could have been ME, I tell you!!! I’m funny! I had a Bat Mitzvah! I’m a nerd! I got wasted at a bar and knocked up some random girl! No wait…that’s not right. Okay, everything but that last part is true. But I think I know the reason why I wouldn’t be as successful as Seth Rogan. If I made films based on my youth, the following scenes would be the reasons behind the movies flopping:

Scene #1: Amy and Lisa make two boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese and proceed to inhale them without the slightest thought of chewing, all the while instructing Amy’s Apple IIe to say things such as ‘Lisa is awesome’ and ‘boobies.’
Scene #2: Lisa joins her high school marching band unknowingly destroying any chance of a successful social life. She is shunned by the cool girls who once used to talk to her in elementary school. On the bright side, she can now play You Can Call Me Al by heart on the trumpet and she has scored a fabulous pair of black Drillmaster sneakers.
Scene #3: Lisa and friends return to Eisner Camp to smoke weed out of a hookah acquired on their recent trip to Israel. Since they aren’t technically campers and are merely hiding out in a random building at camp, they are obviously caught by security who proceeds to kick them out at 2 o’clock in the morning. 6 stoned people sleep in her father’s Oldsmobile sedan in the parking lot of a Great Barrington pharmacy. Camp sends a letter home to our parents tattling on us. The letter is intercepted by Lisa who feels guilty and shows her mother, but insists that she not tell Dad.
Scene #4: Cut to fun, out of control party at a ‘cool kid’s’ house, complete with sex, drugs, and booze. Then cut to Lisa sitting at home at her desk trying to complete the matrices due in AP Calculus the next day.

*music – Look he’s crawling up my wall, black and hairy very small Now he’s up above my head, hanging by a little thread Boris the spidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah