This video pretty much made my day.

Labels: Film Geekery

Labels: Film Geekery

God, I wish my fridge opened into another dimension populated by strange dog-like demons who spoke to me. Life would be so exciting! Maybe I would finally have someone to play Boggle with.

So lately I am loving Regina Spektor's "Hotel Song". There are worse things than suddenly breaking into song at your place of work with the lyric "a little bag of cocaine" ... I think. I've been finding Regina pretty hit and miss though. Either I love her stuff (Hotel Song, Samson, On the Radio) or the very sound of her voice hitting syllables all over the place makes me want to burst my ear drums with jagged chopsticks.

I've also been digging Seu Jorge's "Life On Mars" cover (think The Life Aquatic ... the guy who sings David Bowie tunes in French Portugese. Christ, Sovereign.) and "Ping Island Lightning Strike Rescue Op", which I might have mentioned last post. I figure it needs a mention again, because if y'all aren't dancing to that song like it's 1978 and you're overcome with the rhythm of the night, then you are MISSING OUT. And are no longer cool. And no one will sit with you at lunch in the caf. And Todd Valento won't ask you out for Spring Formal, and you will stay at home that night with your mom watching Wheel of Fortune, slowly adding layers of fat directly to your thighs with the aid of Doritos and emo tears.

But then again, what do I know. I didn't roll with a lot of guys back in high school because I spent most of my time between the computer lab, library and my basement room when putting pants on and not sleeping proved much too hard, so my prom date was Tanya Martyn. We were the most stylin' prom couple ever. My one bitter regret is that we didn't make prom King and Queen. On a sidenote, I remember when I first got my license I would drive the Buick to school ... a giant grey boat that really should've belonged to someone sixty times my age so that they could drive it recklessly around the elementary school ... and I would gaze out of it from the window in my Creative Writing class, longingly, desperately, sensually. I'd usually end up missing my afternoon class because the pull of my 1992 Buick would eventually have me running outside in slow motion, slipping behind the wheel and rekindling my love affair with Taco Time.

I am not sure why my Prom Date story lead to that Buick memory, only that I've gone far too long on this blog not mentioning either of those awesome events and .... really. Five years later, I think it's time.

Anyways, I must go prepare for the coming of Gozer, but I promise to update more often. Or at least make some vague attempt to stop making empty promises.

Labels: Film Geekery, Suitcase of Memories

I am a girl who enjoys zombie movies.

My most favourite zombie movie of late is "
"Slither". Not only does it include a hilarious Nathan Fillion, but there are space slugs. Everyone loves space slugs. It's like, proven.

Some of my other favourites in the realm of Le Zombie Filme are Night of the Creeps, Shaun of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead, blah blah blah it goes on and on. I love zombies. I dream about them all the time, and I'm still trying to figure out that one dream I had where me and a member of the living dead were slow dancing to Private Dancer, which is so bizarre and completely wrong because everyone knows Private Dancer is the kind of song you rock out to. Hard.

I've watched my share of zombie movies. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things gave me nightmares for weeks because of the ending. There should be an unwritten rule that zombies shouldn't be anymore than 6'5" because anything taller than that makes me want to live under my blankets with protective, makeshift weaponry. Because sharpening a spoon into a sharp jabby spike is like, the world's best defense against hordes of the undead.

But Land of the Dead? Granted, I own this movie, but it's only because I rented it once from Blockbuster and took so long returning it that I was eventually forced to buy it. It may be embarrassing that it took me three months to return it to, seeing how I lived about five blocks from Blockbuster at the time. Somehow, when I was in a daze, going through all the things I needed to get rid of in Thunder Bay, the idea of getting rid of Little Shop of Horrors and keeping Land of the Dead seemed perfectly natural.

Of course, I must've been incredibly delirious because even zombies can't quite beat out Bill Murray screaming in ecstasy while Steve Martin tries to wrench teeth out of his mouth.

Not to mention that Land of the Dead is a movie that contains this gem, "I need to go to where there are no people... Canada." And everyone nods as if that's the best piece of advice they've heard all day. No one lives in Canada. That's right. Gold stars all around.

Also, zombies using guns. That is sacreligious. George Romero would be rolling around in his grave. OH MY GOD, WAIT NO. Oh George. My heart.

But maybe I'm being too hard on this movie. After all, it does illustrate the incredibly touching, poignant lifestyle of the Zombie, deftly capturing the eternal struggle of .... zombies trying to pump gas.

All in all, this movie is pretty mindlessly amusing. I've watched it twice since moving here so it can't be all that bad, and it's infinitely better anything I've yet to see by Fulci. (Except the zombie versus shark scene. That is liable to never get old. If I were a Zombie I would totally be all up in that.)

Labels: Film Geekery

Back when I was about eleven I had a dream wherein I married Bruce Willis. We were vacationing in France, spending a romantic evening by a large stone fountain when he got down on his knee and proposed. Up until then my main choice of spouse included Joey McIntyre, Joey from Blossom and sometimes, although I'll deny it up and down if really pressed, a polygamy Disney tag team lead by Eric from the Little Mermaid, followed by the Beast post-turn. While still including dishes that talked. That was my number one Christmas wishlist item: teapots that sang and candlesticks that danced and spoke in French accents.

So I hadn't really given Bruce Willis all that much thought, which is a shame because he is so awesome. If you don't believe me, I have the time, nay, the will to give you a rundown of my favourite Bruce Willis movies. ... and some of my not so favourites. We went through a dark period, him and I a little while ago... but I think we've made it through.

Die Hard :... DIE HARD - I miss the time in action movies when being German meant you were secretly plotting to take over giant skyscrapers and kill polite Asian people who didn't follow your every whim. This movie features way more Carl Winslow action than the sequel to Die Hard, which is great.

Die Hard 2: DIE HARDER - Some may wonder why I haven't included all these in one big awesome trilogy. The truth is, I really can't call this a favourite. However, I'm watching it right now and watching Dennis Franz finally get his comeuppance is sweet bliss. It's a shame that being yelled at by the imposing black guy who once played Lisa's father on the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air didn't send him careening into a downward spiral that didn't end with him taking his pants off on Primetime TV. Don't think I've forgotten, Dennis Franz. I can never forget.

Die Hard 3: WITH A VENGEANCE - This is better than number two, but still not as great as one. Jeremy Irons also stars, but I really haven't been able to respect that man after seeing Dungeons & Dragons. I'm admitting to having seen that now, ... in a theatre.

Die Hard 4: LIVE FREE OR DIE HARDER - Technically this hasn't been released yet. But you know it'll be unfathomably awesome. Don't pretend.

16 Blocks - This one makes me a little sad. There is nothing quite as satisfying as hearing Mos Def say "Berfday cake", but even that doesn't make up for the fact that Bruce Willis looks like he could barely get out of bed, let alone FIGHT A BAD GUY ON THE WING OF A SNOW COVERED, MOVING PLANE. After seeing this movie I was forced to implore, "My Bruce looks really downtrodden in it though, and that makes me sad. Put down the Canadian Club, Bruce, dear. Come over to my house. I have pie."

Hostage - I don't have anything vaguely clever for this one at all. It's just awesome and if you haven't seen it, you're retarded and need to be resmarted by renting it. Or poor. I will lend you money. I will lend you money to see this movie. Hopefully the rental places will accept Monopoly bills and used stamps.

The Jackal - This is the movie where Richard Gere plays some kind of Irish or Scottish or something, and ... and Bruce Willis is a bad guy. Normally this wouldn't be so bad. I am a big girl and I can handle a Bruce Willis who lives on the wrong side of the law. But what I can't handle, is a Bruce Willis and Jack Black showdown. I love Jack Black. I love Bruce Willis. WHO DO I HOPE FOR? *SPOILER... although, to be honest, you might not want to care anyways because this movie is so godawfully bad that I might be saving you two hours of your life. You could use those two hours. You could knit a sweater. You could play a strained family board game. You could perfect your Irish accent. You could bathe an elderly person.* So, Bruce Willis suddenly just shoots Jack Black. Out of nowhere. And he SHOOTS OFF HIS ARM. You think it's going to be this touching tale of friendship between two different people from two different walks of life, but touching tales DO NOT INCLUDE THE LOSS OF LIMBS, unless those touching tales are about veterans who save each other and in doing so, learn hard lessons about life and love. JACK BLACK NEEDS HIS ARM, BRUCE. HE NEEDS HIS ARM SO HE CAN PLAY HIS GEETAR AND SING TO MY HEART. / End Spoiler.

... Not to mention the fact that Richard Gere shouldn't be allowed to act. He should've just preserved our memories of him in Pretty Woman and then retired in the South of France.

The Fifth Element - I love this movie, moreso because I've finally managed to forgive Milla Jovovich and come to terms with the fact that she really wasn't the reason Resident Evil 2 was so heinously bad. Slow motion zombie scenes? The ridiculous Nemesis fight scenes? WHY IS SHE ALWAYS WEARING A TOWEL? HOW DID HER MOTORCYCLE GET UP THAT HIGH?

Pulp Fiction -

"Butch: I think I cracked a rib.
Fabienne: Giving me oral pleasure?
Butch: No, retard, from the fight. "

Sin City - ... I haven't seen this yet. I know. I'm ashamed for me, too.

I was going to pepper this entry with awesome Bruce Willis pictures, and I still may, but finding awesome pictures of Bruce Willis proved harder than previously thought. Likewise, I left out the truly obvious -- The Sixth Sense, etc.

Labels: Film Geekery

(The above line as stolen from livejournal's incognito_rico. Someday I might need to emblazon that on a tshirt.)

So a few weeks ago we had AAAAAAAGH ZOMBIE!! movie night at the apartment, and it featured an increasingly drunken Brad, a Banangela bearing s'more deliciousness, Lindsay + Regis (Regis Philbin's automotive soulmate) and Yan, who is Russian.

Yan's Russian'ness really has nothing to do with anything, except that ... Russia. Come on. That is cool.



It was awesome hanging out with my film buddies once more, as we tore into Fulci's "Zombie" and "City of the Living Dead" like so much delicious, gooey brain matter.

I really didn't care for either. I heard once that Fulci was the answer to Romero, but honestly, Romero didn't really need an answer BECAUSE HE IS SO AWESOME. The two movies we watched were just... boring. And sadly lacking in super awesome zombie action. Of course you expect the usual overly gross devouring of human innards, etc, but you also expect people to be RUNNING FOR THEIR LIVES rather than calmly watching while the ravenous Undead jab at their eyes with wood splinters of hunger.

I say of hunger because I assume the Zombie was thinking shish kebob, but wound up getting confused. I mean, honestly. It must be overwhelming to be a Zombie. I'm pretty sure I've seen the same effect on elderly people at the Old Country Buffet. There is so much to choose from, not to even mention how embarrassing it is to approach to meat guy for the third time to grab yet another piece of ham. Of course, that is neither here nor there because.. we are talking Zombies, and I'm fairly certain Zombies wouldn't be ashamed to ask for more ham. They probably wouldn't even ask. Zombies are kind of rude. Anyways.



Also, I realize having never actually been involved in a Zombie Apocalypse, Happening or Hoedown kind of doesn't make me the most brilliant authority on the subject, but if I were being attacked by a ravenous member of the Undead, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't just stand around screaming as he continued to advance on me, eventually just digging out the back of my skull with his hand, or pushing my eyeball through a jagged piece of door, etc. Fulci's zombies are more vicious that your uncomplicated Romero zombies, (at least pre Land of the Dead) but that doesn't make them all that interesting.

Point for Fulci however... SHARK VS. ZOMBIE!! I mean, that is amazing. If I were a unliving member of the undead I would totally crawl across the ocean floor fighting sharks and riding whales and starting a ten-piece sea creature band fronted by a spunky lobster.



We also watched Michael Jackson's Thriller, tore apart oven S'mores, some with experimental caramel sauce, bought an obscene amount of five dollar pizzas from Little Caesers, (these taste like cardboard and should be eaten with the understanding that they are likely made of recycled people and unfortunate kittens) and then made super awesome words with my plastic alphabet magnets on my fridge.

As far as Zombie movies go, if you are looking for excellent ones I would recommend anything from the Return of the Living Dead series (except for number three, which was awful, and possibly number four which just looks awful), Romero's Dead series (even the 1990 Night of the Living Dead remake, which was the first zombie movie I ever saw and scared me so badly that my 13 year old self stayed up all night convinced that Schreiber was going to be overrun by hordes of the living dead.) and Night of the Creeps, source of this magnificent line.

Labels: Film Geekery

"FAIR IS FAIR!" is something that someday I may get emblazoned onto a tshirt, or tattooed across my breasts, or something that I might just start yelling out in public places while raising my fist into the air in the manner of a fed up and rebellious teenager who is just not going to take it anymore.

This movie is super rare. The only reason I was able to find The Legend of Billie Jean (1985) is that someone stole it from a small town video store and then converted it into cash at a pawn shop. Apparently they had grown tired of their love affair with Billie Jean. There is really only so many times you can hear Helen Slater pronounce "motoscooter" before you want to flip over a table and storm out of the room.

People don't do that enough anymore, so I'm glad I have this video as an excuse. Out of nowhere, someday, she'll be confronting Mr. Pyatt for the six hundred dollars he owes her for the motoscooter and I'll spaz out, flip something over, karate chop the bookshelf and throw a plant across the room and storm out. Watch out.

Billie Jean's brother Binx (played by a young Christian Slater ... pre-Heathers, when he became the psychopath of my heart. These days, I'd just like him a lot better if he'd brush his damn hair in a manner that doesn't make him look like a startled muskrat.) is being bullied by Hubie. Obviously Hubie is expressing his pain with brute strength directed at those younger than him, due mainly to the fact that his name is Hubie. If the Emo movement had been available in the Southern States back in 1985 Hubie could have changed his name to Wandering Despair Pit, sitting on the bleachers during gym class because his heart was too full of pain to play volleyball, or team sports, or comb his hair symmetrically. And then, maybe none of this would have happened. Which may have saved my afternoon.

Anyways, Hubie steals Binx's "motoscooter" and as a result Billie Jean confronts Hubie and demands the $600 it'll take to fix it. At this point Hubie's father Mr. Pyatt comes in and tries to develop a "payment plan" with Billie Jean -- payments from the $600 in exchange for sexual favours. In the resulting fray, Binx accidentally shoots Mr. Pyatt and they're forced to run from the law with a Pre-Simpsons Yeardley Smith.

I love adventure movies of this sort -- when teenagers take the law into their own hands and run away on an adventure of everyday proportions. Yet something takes a wrong turn in Billie Jean, either because you CAN wear too much spandex, even though my ten year old self is vehemently arguing that statement even as I write it, or because watching someone raise their fist in the air and yell "FAIR IS FAIR" is right up there for me with nails on a chalkboard and the musical stylings of "Michael Booble". Just grating in an almost undefinable way.

However, you really should watch it just once, if only to see Christian Slater in drag or to watch a giant papier mache homage to Helen Slater burn. 5 out of 10... because fair is fair.

Labels: Film Geekery

I finally got around to uploading Muninn to YouTube, and as such -- here it is!

You'll want to turn your speakers down until you get to the 10 second countdown, just because my video comes complete with the super irritating bars and tone.

Film students will note the two jump cuts but WILL JUST HAVE TO LIVE WITH THEM.





Update: The video doesn't seem to be working for some, so here's a direct link to the video on YouTube. Let me know if it still doesn't work, guys!

Labels: Film Geekery

When I am not editing, I will be doing these fabulous things:

• Getting my eyebrows waxed, for the love of God, I look like the Absent-Minded Professor. But if, like, the Absent-Minded Professor were an exhausted, anemic mental ward patient bent on genetically engineering dinosaurs to take over th-- oh, for Chrissakes, we've already been down this road.

• All of my laundry. Lord knows finding a bra has been about 10 million times harder than it's ever been before. If I'm looking through boxes from circa 1997 in the vain hope that I'll find something wearable for the girls, it might be time to wash something and stop editing.

• Rocking a little city by the name of Winnipeg with Laura, Parker, Laura's Grandma and a bunch of Laura's family. Also, the Forks. The Forks has buskers, and y'all should know how I feel about those public singers. Especially since sometimes, I am one. But unofficially. Aka, YOU DON'T NEED TO PAY ME, or even ASK ME, because I AM ALREADY SINGING LIKE I'M MARIAH CAREY PART TWO, but Mariah Carey if she put shows on at the A&P and had ruined her voice with four consecutive cases of bourbon and long bouts of uncontrollable sobbing in between "sessions". So about five years from now.
• Also, sidenote, if I actually were a washed up diva, I hope I would still have the sense to say things like, "I've got to sparkle!" while doing jazz hands and wearing a tattered evening dress, or to throw vases full dead flowers at public transit workers screaming, "I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU TOMMY MOTOLLA," before getting on the bus, and finishing with, "Why couldn't I just go back to Daydream? That was the Mariah everyone loved. A little Love Takes Time is all they asked for and instead I gave them Rainbow. I'M SO SORRY, SARAH SOVEREIGN. SORRY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY BURNT OUT HEART."

• Moving! Brad is actually moving a bunch of his stuff / the major stuff into the apartment this weekend whilst I'm away, and I'll be getting my stuff together next week. We'll also be having a yard sale, which is great, because I think I'm finally ready to part with Virus starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Sutherland doing just... just a dead on accent of a sailor. "Sheee's enshooooored, she is." Oh, Donald. It's almost like you ARE a seaman. Nevermind. How could I possibly part with that wonderful film?
  
• It looks as though my plans to post The Carnival were vetoed, and it's entirely possible I'd rather have friends than the fame and fortune showcasing Laura doing the Robot would bring. That said, I shall be posting muninn, my silent colour short film after I get back from Winnipeg. Or this afternoon. Whenever I get off my ass and make a quicktime movie and decide to upload something. It's about a minute and a half long, and the last bit was overexposed so I used the stills from the shoot. I am most proud of the music. Soundtrack Pro, I will always love you -- Bodyguard style.

I am off though now. I need to do four more things before school officially lets me go. Let's hope none of them takes 12 hours, a great deal of caffeine and the dodging of one embittered, kittyless security guard.

Labels: Film Geekery

So on Monday Lindsay / Ange / Bryden / I all got entry permits and endeavoured to throw an all nighter in the school editing our final film. As such, I am now finished!... 30 hours of straight editing later.

I will post it on the Internet as soon as all my actors see it. The soundtrack is mixed by yours truly and currently knocks my socks off out of orbit. Perhaps I will attach my singing to it and wow Canadian Idol with my talent next time they come down. "Take that!" Sass Jordan, I will scream, as my body does the Robot of it's own volition to "Middle Eastern Sound Number One" mixed with "Hip Hop Drum Beats 3".

I have no idea if I'll pass, but if I do it'll be by the skin of my teeth. ... teeth of my skin? For some reason I want to put "Teeth of my pants" there, but I'm fairly certain that's not even a saying. What the hell. It is now. I will pass this year by the teeth of my pants if I pass at all.

This is not entirely okay by me, but it's my own fault. Procrastination + Underachieving has finally had it's rogueish way with me and has resulted in all night editing stints coupled with post midnight college forays, playing the Mission Impossible theme song whilst Lindsay and Bryden and I make a desperate run up to the vending machines, avoiding the surly night Security Guard at every turn.

He is so cranky. I really think he just needs a hug. Or perhaps he's just lost his kitten.

Labels: Film Geekery

I am horrified, sickened and terrified to report that I saw the Benchwarmers tonight and .. and .. oh, God, Internet. I found Rob Schneider attractive.

That's right. This is Rob Schneider,



and this is Rob Schneider,



and oh, God, THIS is Rob Schneider,



and tonight.. tonight he was makin' copies of my heart.

In my defense, I must admit to having a bit of a thing for men in uniform. Baseball shirts, men who know their way around a sporting arena ... it goes hand in hand with being attracted to a man who has a hammer and knows how to use it.

(This is an important point, as if any of y'all are dating a man who doesn't know how to use a hammer, you should probably like... have him tested or something. I mean really. It's ... it's tapping a nail into a piece of wood. This shouldn't be a challenge.)

Benchwarmers was fairly decent. A League Of Their Own wins as my most favourite movie about a sport I never play ever, but Benchwarmers, while not in that league, had a boy with agoraphobia and as everyone knows, crippling phobias are hilarious.

I do adore Jon Lovitz in most things as well, and ... without giving anything away, watch out for a truly magnificent scene involving - what is probably my favourite pasttime and should be yours too -- making Peanut Butter Dragons and makeshift castles made of cardboard. AKA WHAT I WILL BE DOING NEXT WEEKEND, BIATCHES.

Anyways. Back to me and my movie going experience, because really. This entire thing is about me, and maybe a little bit about how bad I feel for Napoleon Dynamite and what is doubtless his endless bout of typecasting. He needs to do something really drastic to change things up a bit. I'm thinking ... nudity.

I would totally recommend seeing it, although I wouldn't recommend losing complete control of your body, falling down clumsily into your seat and unknowingly spilling a load of popcorn into your purse which you end up finding later while at Seattle Coffeehouse, feeling around inside your purse and wondering why "everything is greasy". And yet, so delicious!

.... THE NEXT DAY....

I'm fine now. There is no residual Rob Schneider attraction. Thank you, God.

Labels: Film Geekery

Before I begin this review, I feel as though I should give a little shoutout from my heart to Johnny Castle. In his black spandex, with his sensitive feelings and rockin' dance moves he's thoroughly taken a little piece of my heart.

But I just can't handle non-Johnny Castle Patrick Swayze. His power mullet makes me itch for scissors, and his tucked in burgundy blouse that he wears through the entirety of Ghost makes me itch like scabies on a Subway train, but with like, irritation and rage. And vague hunger.

I watched Ghost a few nights ago. Somewhere near the end Brad wandered in, and we placed our own sarcastic running commentary over everything. Because heartless mockery is a Sovereign's bread and butter.

Here is the synopsis, for those of you not yet blessed in witnessing Patrick Swayze's amazing acting range: Sam, who is in love with Molly, is killed one night in a botched mugging. He ignores the Brilliant Studio Light of Heaven to stay with Molly and look out for her. After discovering that his death was no accident, he has even more motivation ("What's my motivation?" you can hear Patrick asking the Director. "Well, Johnny Castle," the Director would say, "your motivation is yearning ... but also slightly hungry. Just go with that. Through the whole movie.") to warn Molly. Blah, blah, blah, etc, etc, eventually he meets Whoopi Goldberg, aka, Oda Mae Brown.

Which leads me to my next point: Most Disturbing Scene With Whoopi Goldberg Ever. I haven't been able to watch a wide breadth of Whoopi movies, thank God, but in my experience thus far this one disturbs me the most. In one scene, Whoopi feels Demi up, and that's just about as close to a Whoopi Goldberg sex scene than I'd ever like to be. She's the kind of woman where you're never quite sure what's going to be under her pants until she officially takes them off.

That said, she actually does a fairly decent job in this movie. I know it's supposed to be one of her best roles ever, but really. IT'S GHOST. She didn't have far to stretch to BE THE BEST ACTOR IN THE FILM.

I'd probably give it a 6 / 10, mostly for memories and partly because I really like that scene when Patrick learns how to do ghost tricks from the crazy actor guy who I always mentally picture as carrying a monkey for some bizarre reason. (My grammar throughout this review is knocking your socks off, I bet. I am the Queen of the Run On Sentence.)

Finally, I dare you to:

A) Sit through the clay making love scene without giggling.
B) Think of "your motivation is ... yearning" through EVERY SINGLE PATRICK SWAYZE SCENE. Look at his eyes. That man is tortured... inside. If he lived today he'd be wearing black lipstick, listening to My Chemical Romance and learning how to manipulate physical matter so he could update his livejournal from beyond the grave.

"Dear Livejournal,
Death is the same as living. Nothing has changed. My soul is a black tarpit of abysmal decadence.
I am vaguely hungry though.
Love, Patrick Swayze."

Labels: Film Geekery

Thanks to Lindsay for the picture of awesomeness. David Bowie has a delicious chocolate centre and loves kitties.

Labels: Film Geekery, Projects

Tonight was David Bowie Night with Angela and Lindsay.

David Bowie Night consisted of the following:

1) Renting "The Man Who Fell From Earth" from Hill City Comics, with me nearly getting myself killed on the way when I nearly ran through a red lighted intersection because I was looking for the correct turn off. I am a fantastic driver, as breaking heavy on ice covered roads is the absolute best form of action when one is FACING IMMINENT DEATH.

2) Making a David Bowie cake. Our David Bowie cake was magnificent. Made of chocolate, as the real David Bowie most likely is, David Bowie in delicious moist cake form wore sparkly festive pants, a t-shirt emblazoned with "Kitty" (with a picture of a kitty over top), a purple guitar and a super fashionable red mullet. And, lest I forget, his pants had the tell-tale bulge that accompanied The Bowie in the Labyrinth. You can't do a David Bowie cake without the spandexed package, and that's all there is to it.

3) We also watched the Labyrinth. We couldn't finish "The Man Who Fell From Earth" as it proved to be all over the place, entirely confusing and full of strange Freudian sex scenes. Plus, watching David Bowie stare in wonder at his nipples and start tweaking them as though he was pretty sure any second they'd explode into party sparklers or fluffy kittens chasing balls of yarn or something (At least this is what my nipples do.) was just too much for me. Watch out for the scene of David Bowie screaming at the tower of televisions. FUNNIEST THING I'VE SEEN ALL YEAR. But I love the Labyrinth. Even though it's terribly over acted and nearly everything that Jennifer Connelly said made us laugh uproariously, it's still a great movie.

4) Salad Fingers. (Creepy and yet strangely hilarious.)

Labels: Film Geekery