2004-10-20 - 8:18 a.m.
Tommy Lee Makes Me Smile
I know I should totally hate Tommy Lee for being all scuzzy, but I don't. He seems to have a good heart underneath all the tatoos and domestic violence convictions. And he seems to be trying to become a better man. Or at least to slap less people around and consume less controlled substances.
So I read this article on CNN about Tommy going back to school and trying out the college life for this show. At first I thought it sounded like a dumb idea. But now I'm all for it. He's really studying and working hard to make the band and avoiding breaking any rules. See? I wasn't wrong about him after all!
NBC has given Tommy the chance to be the band dork he was before Motley Crue, and what a relief that must be to him to embrace his nature. I'm looking forward to watching this show when it comes out. Good going, Tommy!
2004-10-18 - 11:16 a.m.
Between A Rock And Some Hard Abs
We watched two filmic non-masterpieces this weekend, 50 First Dates and Walking Tall. 50 First Dates was really dumb and started out atrociously. We were literally five seconds from stopping the disk, that's how bad it was. But it started to get better once the big scary chef guy started talking about peanut butter cups. I love Reeses. Anyway, the completely impossible story was endured thanks to the chemistry of Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler. I can't help but like him, especially when he plays one of these besotted guys who grows up in a hurry for love.
Walking Tall was enjoyable, although completely dumb and silly. It's all about The Rock. He has such great energy, fantastic presence and crack comedic timing. I even bought his anguish and crap when he served as his own lawyer in court or when his ugly ass nephew smoked crystal meth and The Rock goes into berzerker vigilante mode.
The original is a classic, and a family favorite (don't ask; we just like ass-kicking, particularly in the name of vigilante justice), but the new version is pretty improbable. I could buy that stuff happening in some backwater southern town in the 60s, but the Pacific Northwest now? No. And The Rock kind of lost me when he decided to leave defending his family to Johnny Knoxville's care whilst boning the stripper with lockjaw from the Wild Cherry Casino in front of one of their jailed goons. The ensuing gun battle she participates in, WEARING ONLY HER BRA, really was irksome.
But whatever, I still liked it overall. And that is solely because of The Rock. I've seen all of his movies, and while none of them is mentioned for Academy Awards or anything, they're always fun. Because he's in it, and he's charming and talented. And have you seen his abs?
2004-10-15 - 5:20 p.m.
Alas, Poor Britney
I just saw a picture of Britney looking really super extra gross on the brilliant Go Fug Yourself site. I feel so bad for her. I love her in all her ridiculousness, and I feel that she's acting out as only one in her situation would. But this whole trashy marriage to Mr. Trasherline is such a mistake.
I think she can get past it. I won't give up on her. This girl has many awesome dance tunes to tantalize us with in the future, much like Cher. And many husbands to go through, like Liz Taylor (she's had her John Warner, and is working the Larry Fortensky marriage right now). She also has a stalled acting career to nurture, like Cher (again) and Liza. Hell, I liked her in Crossroads, even if it was a steaming pile of dung.
Above all, I believe in Britney's good heart. Maybe it's a little naive of me, but I see it shining through the hot pants and the "Carpe Assum" trucker hats and the songs about being a whore. She's still a nice, talented girl and she may be all messed up in the head because of the fame, but she's not hurtful about it and I still find her antics at least mildly amusing.
I'll stick to my guns with Britney, even as she moves into her later years and becomes completely batshit crazy. At the very least, it'll be fun to watch her downward spiral and eventual triumphant comeback cycles play out every few years.
She's with us forever, and I for one am glad for it. I can't wait to see her in 30 or 40 years, on the stage of the Kodak Theater, torn envelope in hand, lipstick smeared just so, eyes glazed over, crazily slurring the words, "Gladiator! GLADIATOR!!"
2004-10-15 - 3:20 p.m.
Roadkill Capitol, USA
I love my car. I love driving. I like enjoying the many sights that pass outside my windows during the journey. Except, of course, for the wildlife reserve's worth of deader than dead animals I see every day on the way to work, the gym, the store, the pharmacy, the EVERYTHING.
There's nothing sadder than a hugely enormous rigor mortised raccoon lying by the side of the road with his legs stuck straight up in the air, like he's just a big poseable koala bear toy whose owner was enjoying simulating pilates positions with him when Mommy jammed on her gigantor SUV's brakes to avoid a crack in the road, sending the toy sailing out the window and into the mean streets below.
How could such a grotesquely obese raccoon even think to try to run across that road? Animal control should pick this thing up, cause it's so big that I worry some days that it is, in fact, a little person in a raccoon suit. It's been 8 days now. I don't even know who to call.
And this morning, someone mowed down a cat in the middle of the main road in my new town, and to avoid hitting it again you basically had to align your tires just right to run over it. Much like Sandra Bullock did in Speed when she had to drive over Keanu without putting any scratches on his gorgeous bod.
Come on animal control! It's not healthy or sanitary or pleasant. The highway running over Fort Washington is not some remote wooded area where these animals chose to keel over. They were obliterated by our stupid driving machines. Please pick up their remains and honor their sweet animal souls with a few kind words of remembrance.
RIP Fat Raccoon. RIP.
