I feel so bad about all the entries I've written that have fallen through the cracks. I bring you a clusterfuck mash-up of my unfinished work. Enjoy having no idea what is going onnnnn
1. dear cara, how can i tell if i am frigid? should i meet the men off pof? why am i a slut?
None of this makes any sense. Do you get wet/hard when you watch porn? If you don't get wet/hard, you might be watching the wrong kind. That happens. You should only meet the men off of POF if you
I've been hearing good reviews of this movie for about a month now, and since I'm a newly minted single (CALL ME, GENTLEMEN!), I decided to do what every old, lonely, bored single woman does: goes out to the movies alone (wait...right?).
Let me say, I plan on reviewing more than just the movie - after all, a trip to the Millcreek Tinseltown is more than a movie, just like making a guy shoot his nut off with your hand while you sit in his rusted-out green pick-up in the mall parking lot is more than just a hand job (am I right, Brittany?).
So it's a warm day, which I hate. I don't need much natural heat to survive. That's why there are Snuggies. I cranked up the air-conditioning in my car because there is nothing worse than doing something kind of embarrassing - while you're sweaty. A woman wearing capris which fell in what Tim Gunn termed 'the dowdy zone' shuffled into the foyer and ticket-buying area before me. I started to feel uneasy, but I'd come this far. There would be no going back.
Standing in line, a gaggle of old, good-humored ladies cackled behind me.
"Oh, what was that movie we saw last weekend?"
"Oh, Brenda, that was it! Tron!"
So this is like an every-Friday kind of thing for these ladies. A grab the early movie, it's only five bucks kind of thing. Whatever the new flick is! I was chatting with someone on my phone and they asked, 'Are they wearing red hats?' I about lost it.
I purchased my ticket (the shame lasted little longer than thirty seconds, something my former, frat-boy-banging self would understand) and as I hoisted open the door to concessions, I heard the first among those ladies trill, 'One for Bridesmaids!'
At which point, I wanted to turn around and take her hand in mine and say, 'Kate Hudson is not in this movie. Try again.'
But I didn't. And when they came into the theater to take their seats, I found myself sitting directly behind them. And they must have put the word out in the church bulletin, because three became six and they were chatty!
So the movie opens with some kind of funny, vanilla sex between the main character, Annie, and her booty-call, ... whatever his name is. The guy from Mad Men.
And I hate to start on a negative note, but there were only two things that I didn't like about this movie, and the first: ON WHAT PLANET DO WOMEN HAVING SEX (WITH FUCK BUDDIES, NO LESS!) KEEP THEIR BRAS ON? I mean, come ON, isn't that like, pg-13, Marisa Tomei in 'What Women Want' territory? I thought I paid good money for an r-rated film. I want to see TITTIES, goddammit. TITTIES.
WOULD YOU LOOK AT HER? sheesh.
(does it piss anyone else off that 'sheesh' would be a palindrome if only it was spelled 'sheehs'? you get what I'm saying there, don't you? you do.)
I wrote a long review for Bridesmaids but never finished it and never posted it. It was the very first movie I saw by myself.
Midnight In Paris, then, is the second.
I heard someone say that "Lost in Translation" is Sofia Coppola's "love-letter to Tokyo," and I feel that Midnight In Paris is Woody Allen's to the City of Lights. It floats along with whimsy and humor and
I realize this partially infringes on Nader's 1900's post, but whatever. LOOK AT THOSE DRESSES AND PARASOLES! Have any of you read Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow? I recommend. Conjugal visits, people. Conjugal visits.
Let's start with 1912 and my personal favorite: the sinking of the Titanic.
Way before that movie came out I was in the second grade (okay, maybe not way before), doing a report on something nonfiction. I have no idea where the idea came from, but I opted to do mine on the Titanic. I read some books (the internet didn't really exist when I was in the second grade - wrap your minds around that, you whores) and got really, really, really into it. I get 'into' things - like The X-Files - and this was my first major obsession. I thought it was all so fascinating. It had everything! Drama! Irony! Class wars! Man vs. Nature! And women in pretty dresses. Really.
I'm sure you all know the story: 'Ship of Dreams', a supposedly unsinkable vessel assembled in