About last night

Kind of a strange. I spent the night at my parents' house as they are out of town, and I agreed to check in. Now, I always get nostalgic when I go there as I grew up in that house, and have spent the majority of my life living there. So there's some teenage style things I always make a point of doing, like eat shitty microwave burritos and play old mix tapes on my dads' thirty year old stereo. But then, I also do things more in line with my current lifestyle like get drunk and fall asleep on the floor. You know, it's weird; when I was actually living with my parents I never touched my dads booze, but as a quasi-adult I pinch it all the time.
So, anyway, the night was like this odd synthesis of my past and present habits. I think that's why I feel kind of weird today. Tonight I'm going to go home, get drunk and fall asleep on my own floor, which seems a more wholesome prospect.

Who likes to party?!?!

There's a new dance-bar that's opened downtown, inexplicably called 'The Library.' I'm not sure they've quite nailed the interests of their target-patron; it has also led to exchanges like this:

6-ft Mongoloid Coworker: Hey, I went to the library on Saturday.
Me: You went to a library?
6fMC: Yeah! I picked up this bitch and totally fucked her pussy! Wooooooh! Yeah! Fuckshit!
Me: Oh.

I'm paraphrasing slightly.

Curiouser and curiouser

I just noticed that I use the term "curiously" a lot. Perhaps someone might have mentioned this to me if anyone read this fucking thing, but, curiously, no one does.

Movie Night

Been watching a lot of movies lately, as usual. I saw Jim Sheridans' In America, which I have mixed feelings about. Samantha Morton and Paddy Considine (whom I liked in 24-Hour Party People), play an Irish Couple who have recently lost a child and move their remaining children to New York, in the 80's. It's about their pluck and determination to survive and remain a family, as well as deal with their trauma. See, it's frustrating, because there were a lot of scenes that struck me as contrived and corny (the carnival scene, for example), but there are other scenes that struck me as incredibly moving (the ending, for example). I don't know, I guess if a movie can touch you at all it's worth something.
I also saw Police Force, a Jackie Chan film from the 80's (also known, apparently, as Police Story or Ging chaat goo si). Man, it's pretty different than the Jackie Chan we know today. In most of his recent films he's a cuddly, childlike innocent; bumbling his way through another adventure. I think it was Roger Ebert who said that Jackie Chan has more in common with Buster Keaton than Bruce Lee. But you watch Police Force and you see Jackie kicking ass and taking names. He lies, schemes, takes hostages, shoots a gun(!). Maybe it's just a cheeky translation, but he even calls his girlfriend a "bitch" at one point. Oh, Jackie! Well, at least he's cleaned up his act, since then.
I've also been watching a lot of samurai movies lately, mostly from Toho Studios in the fifties and sixties. I got into them the usual path, the late Akira Kurosawa, and have since sought out other films from the period. It's funny, because I heard that Kurosawa wasn't very popular in Japan, initially, because his films were seen as too western; I think they had a point. I mean, don't get me wrong, they are great films and he's a terrific director. Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Sanjuro, Yojimbo, Hidden Fortress, Red Beard (okay, technically it's about doctors, but it's in that period). These are justifiably classic films, but they can also be very emotional. There's a lot of speeches and declarations and outbursts; which never bothered me when I first saw the films. But then I saw some films from some other directors, such as Samurai Rebellion, Chushingura, The Samurai Trilogy, the Zatoichi films (okay, again, Zatoichi is not a samurai, but he deals with enough of them). What struck me about these movies is the restraint that is depicted. I mean, look at Chushingura, which is about the 47 ronin; if you're not familiar with that story let's just say it involves a lot of ritual suicide. In a film closer to our sensibilities, their would be a lot of speechifying as characters face the prospect of taking their own lives. But in the movie, they're all so stoic while conveying so much emotion beneath the surface. Curiously, I find that quality makes these movies more resonant; it's kind of a strange experience to watch them because I often find myself feeling sort of restless. But then, after the film is over, my mind keeps returning to the characters and situations; only in retrospect is it obvious how much was going on. When I was first watching the Samurai Trilogy, I was thinking "okay, this is pretty good," and now, after some time has passed, I would say that the trilogy is in my top-five favorite films. So, yeah, samurai movies are good.

A sad comment on my life

Friday I was at a strip club with some friends. A dancer comes up, strips for the first two songs. Last song, she pulls out, and I shit you not, two remote control cars with dildos taped to them. She then hands out the remote controls to two lucky fellas in the audience, one of whom was my friend, and encourages them to try and drive the cars into her.
My thought when I see this: "Oh yeah, I remember her."
Incidentally, my friend reports that fucking a woman with a dildo taped to a remote control car while you sit ten feet away is harder than you'd think.

More With the Funny

Another in a series of favorite links is TV go home. It's a site by this British humorist, Charlie Brooker; it's a satire of TV guides, and TV in general. This man clearly has great contempt for television, and presumably people as a whole. Very funny, and at times not work safe.
Also funny is the weekly; a site co-authored by Mil Millington, the same chap who brought us "Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About" (or TMGAIHAA, in my links section). It's a fake Victorian Newspaper that jabs at Victorian values and so on. It's basically some funny guys fucking around; what's better than that?

Friendly Robuts

This is pretty clever. It's a site about a robot named "Boilerplate" that was apparently built in the 19th century. It's obviously a hoax, but the guy put a lot of effort into it. There are photos and detailed accounts, with links to actual historical sites, no less. Curiously, there is a letters page of people who, presuming the letters are genuine, believe the site is real.
Anyway, it's a pretty terrific site.

Amusing Myself

One of the reasons I started this site was to create a set of links to all the things on the net that have amused me over the years. This tops the list. It's a gloriously insane article where Vincent Gallo interviews himself. It is very, very funny. I quote:

"HIM: I don't trust or love anyone.
ME: Why?
HIM: Because people are all creepy. Creepy creepy creeps. Creeping around. Creeping here and creeping there. Creeping everywhere. Crippity crappity creepies. "

Marvelous. And why the fuck did no one tell me that this existed? "Zatoichi Meets Yojimbo"? Why, that's just the greatest fucking thing ever! My jaw dropped when I spotted it at the video store; I watched it and it is pretty good. I'm not entirely certain that Toshiro Mifune is playing the same samurai as he was in Yojimbo and Sanjuro, though; I think that might just be marketing. Incidentally, if you don't know who or what Zatoichi, Yojimbo, Sanjuro or Toshiro Mifune are, fuck you.

In the Guardian

World failing to meet UN millennium goals .
Yeah, get your shit together, world.

This is a nice story, but...

"By his work, he has restored my faith in movie stars." (reg req'd)

Misleading satire

I recently saw a comedy called Wet Hot American Summer, which was apparently made by a comedy team called Stella, or the State or something. Anyway, I'd never heard of them and I was only aware of the movie through a rather facetious Roger Ebert review, and some offhand compliments in the onion. I rented it thinking it was a sincere summer camp comedy, and I found the first twenty minutes or so confusing, as it was so badly made and badly cast and the dialogue was so contrived. Then there's a scene that makes it clear that this is an Airplane-style parody of summer camp movies, and the rest of the movie is pretty goofy. I don't understand why they play it straight for so long, though. The Naked Gun movies, Airplane, Mel Brooks movies all start with big ridiculous gags so you know exactly what movie you're watching. Presumably, other people would know more about the movie than I did, or be aware that it was made by a comedy group. Nevertheless, going in blind hurt this movie in my case.
Still, once you get in the swing of it, it's pretty funny. Rent the DVD, though, as the best scenes were deleted for some reason; including a shot-by-shot remake of that scene from Animal House with Peter Reigert, Karen Allen and Donald Southerland, which I found clever.
And remember, it's a parody.

Very funny

This fellow has a very funny site where he rants about annoying customers he had in the bookstore where he worked. I often find people bitching about their jobs annoying, but he spins some good little yarns.

Redheads part 2

See part one.
Christ, I'm linking to myself; what vanity. Anyway, yeah, so this chick I met while drunk several months ago apparently dug my rudeness. Whatever. Anyway, last night I'm out at my neighborhood bar and who should come up to me but the redhead in question. Holy shit. So I go and sit with her and her roommate, whom I also met (presumably); now, the only thing I can remember is: "be rude." So I'm being a total dick, and not hitting on her too aggressively as I figure, hey, I got time.
Then. Then. Then. Then this slick motherfucker rolls in and starts chatting her up; and he is being sweet as cherry fucking pie. "Oh, I'm a social worker, it's so rewarding" (fuck you). She buys it! Picks her right up, the bastard, his science was too tight. So at some point I figure, aw shit, this is a lost cause; but of course, if I'm going down, I'm going down in fucking flames. So I got very drunk, and hung out with these kids (they were all like four years younger than me. The motherfuckers friend went to high school with a buddys' little brother), and I'm sure I made an utter ass of myself.
Clap...clap...clap.
In other romancing news, the other night I was at a bar with a friend of mine; it was around closing time, we were standing by the dance floor drinking our beers and this chick comes up and asks my friend: "Do you and your partner(!) like to dance?" My friend advises her that he and I are, in fact, friends rather than partners, but yes we do dance. So this girl asks us to dance with her, which I was prepared to oblige; but when we're going to the dance floor my friend decides to go home (I later learned from him that, despite the fact the girl was talking to him, he thought she was into me so he was giving me space to woo her. Also, he intended his exit to be ninja-like, as he figured he would melt into the crowd. Unfortunately, my recollection is that he wasn't quite that graceful). So we start dancing and the girl notices my friend is gone, so she asks: "Where did your partner go?" Again, I pointed out that he was my "friend," and that he had gone home. Wallop. She turned away from me for the duration of the song and that was that. So either she was actually into my friend, not me, or she was really taken with the idea of dancing with two gay guys.
Either way, I am batting .100 with the ladies, lately.

Incidentally...

...Happy New Years, belatedly, anyway. My goodness, it's been a punishing few weeks, although in a self-inflicted fashion. I threw a new years party, which was well received and attended, although I didn't have too much fun myself. It was kind of like operating a day care and giving all the kids glass bottles to play with; I was a wee bit tense. Regardless, it's done and everyone had a blast; some blood was shed, some hearts were broken, homoerotic boundaries crossed; a success all around!
I've been listening to some rather lovely music lately. I'm really getting into Low, an indie rock group, I think (I'm new to the indie-rock thing so I don't know if they qualify). I own Trust, and Things We Lost in the Fire, which have both grown on me a great deal. They also have a great collaborative disc with Dirty Three. It's all kind of depressing, but in a good way; then again I'm kind of a depressive so this sort of thing is my cup of tea.

I'm back

Although I never really left...
I just utterly failed to have dinner; I attempted to go to the Pita Pit and there was a line-up. Line-ups at the Pita Pit are the worst; as you might expect, all the pitas are hand made by awfully young and harried people. Despite the fact that these employees are quite visibly doing the best they can, everyone in line silently glowers at them. No one speaks, or socializes with their friends, just glare. It creates a very tense, hostile atmosphere; none too conducive to pita enjoyment. In addition to this, when everyone gets to the front, they immediately forget the x people behind them and take their sweet fucking time with their orders ("Are those peppers fresh?"). Bastards.
So I went to Subway instead; strike two for dinner, but this one was my fault. Around where I work, there are really only two places to eat at night if you're in a hurry: the aforementioned Pita Pit and Subway. As Pita Pit is cash only I generally go to Subway. For some reason, virtually every time I go the only person working is this sullen, punk-girl. I go there often enough that I figure she has to recognize me, although she never acknowledges it, i.e. with some sort of banter. Anyway, I always feel really uncomfortable in these situations, where I'm a regular. I don't want to be recognized, or have anyone know how often I go to Subway, or what kind of sandwich I like.
It wasn't always this way, I am also a regular at two different bars, and once upon a time that was a source of great pride, but now it's kind of embarrassing. I don't know why I suddenly crave anonymity when I drink or eat, but there you go.
Long story short, I went to Subway and sure enough the sullen punk-girl was there, and I chose starvation over recognition. I could have gone back to Pita Pit, but the patrons might have remembered me...