March 2010
22 posts
3 tags
February 2010
26 posts
“Now five more movies have been offered to the Twilight Saga’s...”
– Nikki Finke’s Taylor Lautner coverage is beginning to read like Taylor Lautner slash fiction. You bet his April slot’s open. He can probably fit two movies in there.
Whenever I meet a handsome young physician—doesn’t matter what his specialization is—I kind of want to slip him my grandmother’s phone number.
“It has to be done all CG because I would not know how to shoot this thing in...”
– Roland Emmerich, speaking volumes about his planned adaptation of Asimov’s Foundation trilogy.
1 tag
There ought to be a word for the awkwardness that sets in when you’ve neglected a friend for so long that their attempts to engage you take on the halting politeness of someone who isn’t fluent in English.
If you want a high-resolution snapshot of who you were at a specific point in your life—moreso even than the way you wore your hair, your favorite fragrance, the music you listened to—try remembering who you were trying to impress, who you wanted to like you, at a given moment. We all contain multitudes.
These gilded, almost pastoral Los Angeles evenings always remind me of that Gary Oldman movie where Beethoven’s dad beats the shit out of him.
Over dinner we were discussing ways that Avatar’s villainous WeHo muscle queen jarhead could’ve Billy Zane’d things up a notch and reached a consensus that Cal Hockley would probably have raped Jake Sully in the tanning bad while Jake’s avatar was perving on Neytiri in the disco forest.
Lethal Weapon 555⅕
Kevin Smith’s manufactured kvetching over Warner Bros.’ refusal to release Cop Out under its original title, A Couple of Dicks, is just a smokescreen for the fact that Smith refused to cooperate with the studio’s original plan to market the feature as Brett Ratner Movie.
Poignant thing a girl said to me tonight, unintentionally in the cadence of a Beyoncé song: “If I were a boy, I’d grow my beard out to here.”
When someone is exceedingly knowledgeable about a subject you love, discussing it with them can feel like slipping into a nice warm glove … that they may slap you across the face with at a moment’s notice.
One of the more specifically terrifying things in modern life is when you zoom in haphazardly on a Google Map and wind up becalmed in the middle of the deep blue sea.
1 tag
I have a very specific sexual disorder: I get off whenever I hear Sherri Shepherd say the word Chyron.