I haven't done a Bad Movie Review in such a long time. It's probably because, usually I love bad movies. I love the attempt at trying to be great on a shoestring budget. The overacting in place of talent. Bad costumes with the glimmer of hope that maybe, the audience wont notice.
But. Sometimes, there comes a movie that dares us to sit through it, while it slaps the intelligence out of you.
I saw Disaster Movie. And how well named this movie is! So, I am now planning to find who made this movie, and going back in time to make sure they can never be born and poison my mind like they did. I used to have such a beautiful mind.
For the sake of your own lives, I will now tell the entire movie, in the hope that you'll never have to suffer such as I did. Spoilers be damned, this is compassion that I do this for all of you.
While watching the movie, I noticed that the filmmakers were so much in love with their genius, that they actually edited in 30 second pauses after each joke, as to allow the people in the audience time to catch their breath and fully recover from the obvious conniption fit of laughter that must be issuing forth from them. How thoughtful. Although, it came off in the theater as mournful moment of silence in honor of the humor that just died. I did hear some children laugh at the two minute belching joke. I'm guessing these are the kind of children that laugh at their feet.
And so the motion picture begins:
The movie starts out with the audience disappointingly getting their hopes up that they wont be wasting two hours of their lives. It also begins with a 10000 BC sequence. the "comedy" starts with a falling into dinosaur poop joke. Our main character (i really can't say "hero", as this no name actor has the presence of wood glue). He runs through bushes, and gets into an American Gladiator joke for no apparent reason that goes on far too long. He then runs into Amy Whinehouse...
How do we know it's Amy Whinehouse? Because whenever a imitation of some kind of current pop culture bad imitation, SOMEone always says something like, "Hey! It's Amy Whinehouse!". To which the said identified person will say "It's me! Amy Whinehouse!!!"
Anyway, She goes on way too long and we got the joke minutes ago. She produces a crystal scull from between her legs (an ongoing theme, as you see), and says if this skull doesn't return to it's proper place, disaster will befall the earth...and our movie begins!
...as our hero (dammit...), wakes up from this dream. Yeah, it's a dream opening of the jokes the "writers couldn't figure out how to place in the rest of the movie. He brakes up with his girlfriend who leaves him and...I even started to taste a little vomit here as I recalled this moment...leaves him and takes the midget. That's the joke. And I'm guessing the producers thought this was such comedy gold, they have an entirely different midget joke later. But I digress...
The hero has a (joke) MTV sweet sixteen party for himself where (joke) he meets the guys from Superbad, where is best friend/funny black jive-ass sidekick does some (joke) Wanted shtick with the real Kim Kardashian and Carmen Electra where they (joke) wrestle in a dream sequence yet again, and then (joke) a High School Musical number plays out entire parody songs...
Interspersed within all this are more and more side jokes. I also realized that these...writers...were making "funnies" on the trailers of all these movies! They never saw any on these actual movies of these parodies they're doing! Oh, and you've just saw the biggest stars of the pic: A chick whose claim to fame is being rich and a boring sex tape, and Ms. Electra, who'll do anything for a cig and a ride home afterwards. Ask Dennis Rodman.
Back to the epic! The ground shakes and (joke) Cloverfield like destruction starts. So, Mr. Wood Glue, talentless Kim, Jive-ass Sidekick, and (joke) the preggo kid from Juno, try to find Wood Glues girlfriend and stay alive. By the way, we've wasted almost an hour of movie before ANY disasters happen, not counting the actual existence of this celluloid piece of crap. Wind and tornadoes. Yes. That's our marque named disaster.
While they're walking about in the streets trying to get... somewhere... They run into, (joke) the Hulk who loses his pants and (joke) gets hit by a cow, pass (Joke) "Hey! It's Hannah Montana! Who gets crushed by a meteor, who turns out to be (joke) "Hey! It's Miley Cyrus! Meet (joke) the princess from Enchanted, run into (joke) the Sex in the City girls, do the exact jokes from (joke) Don't Mess with the Zohan...
Que dream sequence numbah three! (joke) Jumper, and (joke) Prince Caspian. back to the waking world...
Then meet (joke) the Chipmunks.
Who sing not one, not two, but THREE full fricken songs! With shots of our protagonists enjoying them all. They attack and kill most our heroes, and the whole of human culture thanks them. But unfortunately, Wood-Glue, Jive-ass, and Enchanted escape, and are headed to the (joke) Night at the Museum, where Gluey's GF works. So our group (joke) steals Speed Racers Mach five (which looks nothing like the Mach 5) . Oh yeah, (joke) "Hey! it's Batman!"
Enter the museum where the girlfriend is rescued, produces a Crystal Skull from between HER thighs and says they need to replace the skull in this very museum to save the world. To get from A to B, (joke) Beowulf attacks them, Kung-fu Panda attacks them. And they get to the Crystal Skull room where...
oh Jesus. Midget number two. a tiny black Indiana Jones.
Okay, i'm sick of all this crap. needless to say, as if anyone cares, they replace the skull. and people pour out of the theater angry they've just spent hard earned cash that could have been spent way more satisfying, paying a hobo to beat you with a dead rat behind a dumpster.
the end.
And just as some kind of redemption to myself, I didn't pay to see this. No one should.
I have just saved your soul.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Secrets of the Male Species
Seeing as that I don't have many guy friends and don't fully subscribe to the male-mind set of misogynistic buffoonery, I feel I might be the only outlet to the other half of the human race for the secrets of the male mind.
And seeing as i'm totally clueless about females of any type. I'm kinda hoping for an information exchange.
yeah. I'm a traitor to my gender. But, we're guys. We can get into a fight about something, totally forget about it when we see a nice looking girl, then forget what it was all about and go have a beer and talk sports, or boobs, or whatever.
1) the man-hug
It's a written rule from back in Roman times that a man to man hug last exactly 2 seconds or less...and no more. You are not allowed to swoon, cry, close eyes, or sigh. You place your hands, closed fingers, in the middle of the back and pat continuously (i.e. no rubbing!!!), and you don't place your chin on the others guys shoulder. You also do not stroke his hair.
2) "WOOOOOT!!!"
When humans are just babies, to get attention, they would cry. While women grow out of this, males evolve the screeching wail, into one word: "wooooooooooot!" This is usually answered with a pack mentality amongst nearby males, and accompanied with the pumping of a fist into the air. Don't believe me? Go to a MTV event at a beach and watch when a bikinied girl walks by. Watch a sports event of any type. Witness a drunken frat party. It's a species war cry that transends all other drives. I think it's the same urge that fuels dogs to occasionally eat their own poop.
3) Boxers or briefs?
Actually, it's three choices: Tighty Whities, boxer-briefs, and boxers.
Tighty Whities should only be worn by pre-teens, and that's it. End of story. If you date any guy, and you find out he's wearing white "panities", he needs to grow up. No guy looks good in tighty-whities. Even those male models you see in wal-mart and target ads look...odd, with their perfect hair and flashing smiles as two guys are wearing nothing but white Haynes and sharing a pillow fight. And if you notice, they're as smooth as a Ken doll. Somehing to think about.
Boxers. I just don't get those. It's like wearing an ass cape with a waistband. Whats even worse is the guys trying to look "street" by wearing low cut pants exposing some very rumpled boxers. Not a sexy sight, many women tell me. And wearing the voluminous boxers is like throwing a hot dog in a shoebox: no protection in any shape or form. Bits get crushed and are all a-sway in very unflattering ways.
Now the way to go for all guys are the Boxer-briefs: the hybrid of all the forms of pantinones! has the security of the thightys without being that tight, and the coverage of boxers without looking like you're wearing your dads underwear.
Oh, and never buy white in any form. Men can't maintain a whiteness in any cloth. The most we can manage is a dull yellow.
And whats with the 1000's of panties that women get to choose from in specialized stores? Unlimited designs and cuts! What we guys get is a 3-pack on sale at Target.
4) An ongoing list of words no man should use, ever.
Garment --- Periwinkle --- Magical --- Supple --- Duvet --- Precious --- Faaaabulous --- Adore --- Lavender --- Mommy or Daddy --- Scootch --- Weewee --- "teeheehee" ---
5) Urinal commandments
No excessive or undue conversation in the restroom. Keep eyes forward whenever possible, if you have to, go into a trance and stare at the tile in front of you, or admire the urinal cake intensely Always close the stall door, even when going #1. If you have an option, never use the urinal right next to a man who is already "underway". Never talk to another man while your junk is hanging out. Never discuss shape. Never say "ooooooh...impressive...".
I'll be leaking more information soon. Every pun intended.
And seeing as i'm totally clueless about females of any type. I'm kinda hoping for an information exchange.
yeah. I'm a traitor to my gender. But, we're guys. We can get into a fight about something, totally forget about it when we see a nice looking girl, then forget what it was all about and go have a beer and talk sports, or boobs, or whatever.
1) the man-hug
It's a written rule from back in Roman times that a man to man hug last exactly 2 seconds or less...and no more. You are not allowed to swoon, cry, close eyes, or sigh. You place your hands, closed fingers, in the middle of the back and pat continuously (i.e. no rubbing!!!), and you don't place your chin on the others guys shoulder. You also do not stroke his hair.
2) "WOOOOOT!!!"
When humans are just babies, to get attention, they would cry. While women grow out of this, males evolve the screeching wail, into one word: "wooooooooooot!" This is usually answered with a pack mentality amongst nearby males, and accompanied with the pumping of a fist into the air. Don't believe me? Go to a MTV event at a beach and watch when a bikinied girl walks by. Watch a sports event of any type. Witness a drunken frat party. It's a species war cry that transends all other drives. I think it's the same urge that fuels dogs to occasionally eat their own poop.
3) Boxers or briefs?
Actually, it's three choices: Tighty Whities, boxer-briefs, and boxers.
Tighty Whities should only be worn by pre-teens, and that's it. End of story. If you date any guy, and you find out he's wearing white "panities", he needs to grow up. No guy looks good in tighty-whities. Even those male models you see in wal-mart and target ads look...odd, with their perfect hair and flashing smiles as two guys are wearing nothing but white Haynes and sharing a pillow fight. And if you notice, they're as smooth as a Ken doll. Somehing to think about.
Boxers. I just don't get those. It's like wearing an ass cape with a waistband. Whats even worse is the guys trying to look "street" by wearing low cut pants exposing some very rumpled boxers. Not a sexy sight, many women tell me. And wearing the voluminous boxers is like throwing a hot dog in a shoebox: no protection in any shape or form. Bits get crushed and are all a-sway in very unflattering ways.
Now the way to go for all guys are the Boxer-briefs: the hybrid of all the forms of pantinones! has the security of the thightys without being that tight, and the coverage of boxers without looking like you're wearing your dads underwear.
Oh, and never buy white in any form. Men can't maintain a whiteness in any cloth. The most we can manage is a dull yellow.
And whats with the 1000's of panties that women get to choose from in specialized stores? Unlimited designs and cuts! What we guys get is a 3-pack on sale at Target.
4) An ongoing list of words no man should use, ever.
Garment --- Periwinkle --- Magical --- Supple --- Duvet --- Precious --- Faaaabulous --- Adore --- Lavender --- Mommy or Daddy --- Scootch --- Weewee --- "teeheehee" ---
5) Urinal commandments
No excessive or undue conversation in the restroom. Keep eyes forward whenever possible, if you have to, go into a trance and stare at the tile in front of you, or admire the urinal cake intensely Always close the stall door, even when going #1. If you have an option, never use the urinal right next to a man who is already "underway". Never talk to another man while your junk is hanging out. Never discuss shape. Never say "ooooooh...impressive...".
I'll be leaking more information soon. Every pun intended.
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