i've made a grave mistake

above these words is the trailer for irene in time, the movie i ACCIDENTALLY INADVERTENTLY saw today as a result of me walking into the wrong theatre at the movies. it was the worst thing i've ever accidentally done on a tuesday ever, in my whole life. except for the accident i almost got into about 45 min prior. FORGET THE MINOR DETAILS. LET'S MAKE A CASE!

okay so basically this movie is about irene who's sad because her dad got in a boat and sailed away to boat heaven (OR SO THEY HAVE US THINK!!!) when she was little and now she can't date because she's trying to find a man like her dad. okay god/world. i didn't have a dad growing up. is this cosmic synergy trying to tell me something? fine. i'm in the theatre and i'm stuck because my desired feature started twenty minutes ago. I'M LISTENING. TELL ME YOUR STORY.

so irene thinks she has to follow dating rules and whatnot to get a guy. she has tons of books. she reads them in the pool. they don't seem to work for her. CUT TO scene of her with "current" boyfriend. they're in her room and she's eating food off his plate and chewing loudly and is generally annoying. he leaves. SURPRISE! but it's not because she eats like a cow chewing gum and is loud, it's because HE'S not right for her. the rules, you guys! the rules ain't working! oh noeeessss!

also she's a singer. she sings these awful songs that were originally written by the lady who did the soundtrack. they sound like the end result of setting a jukebox from 1983 on super easy listening. one song is about finding love in starbucks. can't have that kind of crosspromotion, irene! i see all too easily what you did there! (sidenote: there's also a scene where she's sitting next to a table with a pink can of Tab on it. nostaligic crosspromotion! for the record i no longer drink Tab. i have graduated to just getting wasted every night. i am an adult and these are my words!)

so where were we? ahhh yes. so she meets this guy. well, "meets" is a loose term because he is her producer. he is also 'roided out of his mind and sorta looks like he could benchpress me or whatever. he scares me. and i want him to cut his hair and stop looking at everyone like they're his next meal. but irene likes him and that's what's important. i'm here for her. all the best. RIGHT. she doesn't know she lurves him yet though, so she keeps dating.

she meets a guy who's nice but weird and says stupid one-liner type things like, "we will all laugh at gilded butterflies." not really. he is not that smart. not really either. she hates him and dumps him and then it's back to the bathrobe and the wine and the solitaire. THE SINGLE GIRL'S LIFE FORREAL Y'ALL.

this just in! her old ex is back in LA and wants to go to dinner with her. COOL! but he wants to double date. oh boy, what'll she do now? easy. get her lesbian friend to do her a solid! because that's what lesbians are here for! to go on dates with your ex's friends.

so on that date she and her ex go to the bar and talk, leaving the lesbian and dude sitting there. the dude decides she is who he was waiting for (of course!) and asks her out. this is maybe 20 minutes deep into the "date." she says, "you know i am into women. sorry." he kisses her and then she says, "no sir. i will not take your offer for which i would glady date a woman tomorrow." something like that. back to irene. her ex, who hasn't seen her for seis years wants to marry her. MOVIE OVER! not. because irene's a traditionalist and they haven't even seen each other for twenty minutes yet for god's sake! so she says no. sad panda.

CUT TO the roundtable of women in their over-thirties hanging around talking about their daddies. "my daddy was DA BEST. FOR SERIOUS. HE COULD HAVE BEAT YOUR DAD HARD IN A CORPORATE SOFTBALL GAME"..."my daddy was never around. i hate him"..."my dad was so aloof! ALOOOOOOOOOF! 'tis a word i learned today on the internet. it describes my dad perfectly!" it's so sad! it's like drivin' and cryin' but they're sitting in plastic white lawn chairs wearing bathrobes! it's so weird and uncomfy but i can't look away because a part of me wants to walk out of the theatre!

i almost did. but damnit, i paid my six dollars and bought a fucking drink! so i stayed.

so then they're all eating lunchdinner outside. everyone's there. all friends, all family. irene talks to her mom about her dad and her mom's like, "men suck. do it for yourself." irene is sadfaced. CUT TO the lesbian and her mom. she's finally coming out. her mom is shockedface. she's like, "how long have you known?" (because when the stork makes you gay he mails you a confirmation letter and then you KNOW you're gay) and the daughter's all like, "well i used to have crushes on girls but i dated guys and then you and dad made me all angsty and i dated girls." because lesbianism and homosexuality is a form of teenage rebellion! you guys, this is it! we've cracked the code. let's infiltrate the high schools already.

CUT TO one scene where irene and lesbian friend are hanging out with straight and lesbian friends. lesbian #1 is like, "irene kiss her!" lesbian #2 is all smiles. they kiss. because homosexuality is fun! it can be a big fun experiment! get more wine! let's try again! they keep going with other people. it's like girl's night out but no one's standing on the bar and they are in the living room. sadface.

also creepy producer guy is 'bout it, 'bout it with irene. they hang out and kiss and things are greeeat. so she's found a guy. mazeltov! she doesn't need those books anymore. so they have a book burning party because irene is secretly a communist. and she needs to make sure no one else gets those books ever. NO ONE. no one except the fire god, because she must appease him so that he doesn't rip her eyes out while she sleeps. so she sets those pages aflame! a part of me dies inside when this happens. it is still dead.

NOW they're going to move out of their huge villa (villa coola). irene lives in the guesthouse. she is like thirtybillion and living in the guesthouse. she's like will smith and carlton but not as cool because jazzy jeff never comes over. lord knows how many times she invites him. he, too, is ALOOOOOOF! anyway, moving party. enter irene's BRITISH MOTHER WEARING A PINK CHENILLE THROW! because she is old and british. and irene is american! hmmmmm....

in her bedroom, irene is just farting around and finds this hidden secret hatbox that she's somehow missed seeing for fifteen some-odd years. in it are all these pictures. and a leather jacket, so she can look badass. oh, it isn't so she can look badass? pointless, then! the pictures are of this woman who is oldish and brunette and thin looking. irene must find her.

and find her she does. at the catalina jazz club, where all your dreams come true. she introduces herself and blahblahblah it turns out her father knew that lady. she gives her a russian doll set. irene's like, "cool, but what is this?" she's like, "for srs dood? you don't know what this is?" she's like, "okay byeeeee." END SCENE.

then we dig rull rull deep and it turns out the singer lady is irene's real mom. this still doesn't explain why irene is a REDHEAD. i don't believe she's related to anyone. nope. so everyone's sadfaced but then irene's like, "it's whatever i don't care who my mom is. i gotta be finding my papa!" so she opens the russian dolls. the last two are taped. say what (karoake)? it's because there's a message in them. the msg says, go to the sea or whatever! so she does!

and she begins to walk into the ocean and then all of a sudden i'm like, "is she gonna go straight into the ocean? is she gonna die?" i was on the fucking edge of my seat with excitement you people. but she did not die. she found her father who had just been sailin' around for like twenty years. ain't no thang.

OH ALSO the producer guy is married and with child. he left irene and broke the news to her at the airport. because he is an asshole and he's got to get home to benchpress his wife and child.

i hated that movie.

E

in which TV is clearly out to destroy my heart and soul.

(photo via mtv.com or whatevskis)

you guys can i be real for a second?

i love TV. like i fucking love it. if there was a way for an electronic device/digital cable stream and a woman to be joined together in holy matrimony, i would've swam into the pacific and climbed onto that boat a long time ago.

but why does everything i love have to hurt me in return? WHY MUST YOU DO THIS? THEY DON'T LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVE YOU!

this is probs my fault (that's okay TV...it was never you...it was always me, i know it) because i threw myself into the big masochistic pit of fire also known as watching MTV so in turn i suppose i brought this on myself. i MADE myself watch college life and the phone. i did this.

basically college life is this dipshit - sorry, innovative and compelling, TV show wherein some college freshmen are followed by cameras at ALL times and they talk and sob and wear school hoodies and apparently all attend some kind of prison style college deep in madison, WI. basically i can't stand it because i live(d) it. not to mention MTV just ripped ITSELF off. i wasn't in college back then, but i distinctly remember loving (despite the almost tangible shitty qualities those shows emitted from my TV screen) sorority life and fraternity life. so good going there MTV. you beat yourself to your own original concept like five years ago.

let me synopsize this fucksenserey for you. there are a handful of kids involved but you only need to know about two:

alex: she is 19. she is a bonerkill. this girl is like one walking livejournal entry and all the entry tags are FML. she's like "waaaaah waaaah boys won't put their penises in my vagina! i have no hope with dudes for the rest of my life! the boy i like didn't text me after we watched one tree hill together waaaahhhh even after i put an 'i like you. check yes or no' note in his locker!!! wahhh!!!" okay i know colleges don't have lockers but you see where i am going with this. essentially she is what i am slowly but surely becoming.

no one said i was proud of it you guys. no one.

and then you have kevin. he is everyone's bro-dude. if you give a mouse a cookie, he'll like ask you for milk or something (don't really remember) but if you give kevin a few hours, he'll make you a party. like a mysterious and magical little keebler elf whose medium is hard liquor and red plastic cups. he is that guy that you will want to punch repeatedly in the face sober, but who's meaty arm you will more than gladly cling to when blackout drunk. (you will probably say "more, more, more! and tell me that one story of how you once sucker punched your seven year old neighbor when he took your frisbee! holy shit did you just pull that red cup from behind my ear?! i love you because you're magic! pour me more sam adams!) i imagine the following things go through his head on an hourly basis:

"tits! i hate math! this baseball caps is too tight! tits! ass! i love college! asher roth! i love drinking! i love women! miller lite! beer pong! man, i really appreciate how hard my parents worked so that i could go to school despite the poor grades i achieved in high...whoops! TITS! ASS! DRINKINGSMOKINGSEXCOLLEGE!"

college life is an epic fail of a television show. you guys at MTV want drama? you should have let me film my dorm experience. bitches were threatning to pee on my washcloths and get their sisters to beat me up. because of loofahs and thermostats!!!! there was some diddy approved dramz going down dudes. did i get a show? no. does that leave me feeling bitter? no... does that make me not want to watch this one? YESYESYES.

i was also going to talk about the phone (ay dios mio) but because i have spent so much time ranting about this fuckery, i will just leave it with this equation i have created (in my opinion) perfectly summarizing what you've got here:

mtv's the phone: phonebooth + eagle eye + M.I. - colin farrell - being interesting + money + teenagers.

there's some cloverfield style filming and mildly (like, mild salsa mild) intense and dramz music thrown in for good measure.

TV WE CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS. GET IT TOGETHER. IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE. WE CAN WORK IT OUT. but the sadfaced kids, fleshbeards, gripping reality television, and all other no-noes must GO.

E

Everything's Better With Porno!

Soooo...as sadcute as it is to admit, I didn't have anything better to do tonight than go see a movie by myself. It was either that or sit home eating those fancypants Stouffer's TV dinners that I bought on sale from Ralph's 10 for 10.00, but those were just glorified Kid Cuisines (remember those? My epic domestic fail mawm basically fed those to me at least three times a week during mid to late childhood), so I chose the former option.

I went to the theatre and after a brief scuffle with a man with a super intense stutter and overflowing amounts of pedo-creepiness (for surrious sir, I don't want a boyfriend on the side and even if I'm lying by saying I'm still in high school, you shouldn't be hitting on me) I sat down to watch this lovely piece of cinema entitled Serbis with the other eight people in the theatre.

I'm not gonna sit here and be like, "Ooooh, it made you think and it was soooo arthouse and good and even though you're not gonna get it, you, like, get it, man. You just get it." Because you won't and it isn't and I didn't and two hours later, I still don't know what I saw. Plus it had subtitles. And the sneak-uppy kind that don't hit you until three scenes into the movie when everyone stops speaking English and starts speaking this English/Spanish/Filipino hybrid and the subtitles kick in.

Um, basically it's about this family that lives in this huge theatre where they also, oh, you know, just happen to show pornos. Pretty run of the mill. All the gays come to the theatre and then sell their bodies (totally just thought of that to the tune of Mariah's "Touch My Body") and so while the movie's running, everyone's pretty much sucking dick for dollars or pesos or chocolate coins or whatever the currency in the movie is (I'm not really sure) and then a goat turns up and then a girl gets pregnant (this is not a spoiler) and trannies give "strutting" lessons. The house is pretty cool though, really big and ornate with a fuckload of stairs. I mean seriously, by now I would think someone might have looked into putting in an elevator or an escalator, but, you know.

Oh and people are naked a lot and there's a non-porno sex scene which is hot in a strange way (kind of like how really fucked up porn still turns you on even though you tilt your head and squint to look at it) and I guess this movie is fantastic if you really feel like bumming around in a theatre for an hour and forty-five minutes and have a friend to talk through throughout the whole thing, because really, you could tune in at any given time and have the same amount of back-knowledge.

If all else fails and my deeply introspective and incredibly riveting review of this feature didn't satiate your needs, here's the trailer. And if that doesn't help, then get the fuck outta my face, because you're probably hopeless and have no business watching movies or reading about them.



E

Baby Dick...?

This whole thing is disturbing for a couple of reasons. First, Dirt Nasty (Simon Rex) is rapping. Second, this entire song is set to various scenes from Family Guy. Third, the idea of making a song about baby sized dicks is just plain weird.



Deuces,
Erika