Trailer Trash: Wanted

There are three new generation filmmakers who are on my hot list. Timur Bekmambetov is one of them.

Although I haven't seen any of his films yet, judging from what I have seen of his work (the trailers for Night Watch and Day Watch are awesome), the guy has a great sense of visual style. This is further evident in his new (and debut American) film, "Wanted." Featuring James McAvoy and Angelina Jolie as trained assassins, the new trailer for "Wanted" has some shots that make me reminisce the awe I felt when I saw "The Matrix." In addition, Angelina Jolie could not be more perfect in the lead role of the bad ass hot chick.



Note: In case you were wondering, the other two guys I love are Francis Lawrence ("I Am Legend") and Zack Snyder ("Watchmen").

With great power, comes great responsibility...

Tim Duncan is the bomb.

Since basketball season begins today, my daily ritual of checking Yahoo! Sports returns. And to my surprise, what do I find when I click on it? Well, actually its a giant picture of Kobe "Douchebag" Bryant putting up his daily fuss about jumping ship and leaving the Lakers. But, in the small bottom left hand corner, printed neatly in size 10 font is a headline, "Duncan Signs on." Clear, straight, and to the point - like the man himself.

This isn't actually the surprising part. Tim Duncan (my all time favorite basketball player mind you) is pretty well known for his loyalty and dedication, so it's only natural that he continue his unbelievably successful reign with his current team. The real shock is actually what follows when you click on the preceding headline.

"Duncan will take less than maximum salary - re-signs two year extension with San Antonio Spurs."

In a world where money is motivation to do anything and everything, Tim Duncan turns down an extra 11 million so that the Spurs can hire more talent and build upon their dominant franchise. Sure, you could say that maybe he is just using this as leverage for the future, but honestly, the man is 31 years old. When his contract "expires" with the Spurs, he will be 36 years old and probably past his peak years. This guy is just pure class.

No sir, if anything, we should be bowing down to you.

Day of the LOCUSTS.

My head hurts.

When it rains it does indeed pour. After my summer of nothingness (didaly!), every day back at work is insanity. It's like the freaking Reaping is coming or something (and yet my project doesn't even open until July 2008!). I so can't wait to go to NY and not take any effin' phone calls. I got called 9 times in twenty minutes while trying to eat lunch today. To make matters worse, my stupid ass computer is on the fritz and keeps changing the meeting times of my work calendar. I think the push (in date) of the time change made everything go haywire. I'm about ready to blow my brains out.

Note: A phone is such a double edged sword. Sometimes, it must be nice to be Amish.

The Dog Ate My Homework

It's one of those days.

You would think that if you leave past 8:00AM traffic would get better since all the damn kiddies would have been dropped off to school by then. But no, the overpopulation that is our Earth continues to have its presence felt on the freeways, despite my crafty plan of being tardy to avoid it.

Being the diligent employee that I am, at 9:15AM I figure I might as well call in to work to check up on everything. Crap. I left my phone in my charger at home. Strike one.

After an hour and 30 minutes of being in the car, I finally stumble into work around 9:45AM (parked on the 5th floor!!!). Since I feel like shiite, I go over to our newly installed coffee kiosk to pick up some java when I realize that my wallet is missing. So, no coffee for me. Strike two.

Apparently, my wallet and phone decided to take the day off without telling my brain. This would normally be ok, except that I have photo class in LA tonight and have to pay for the $6 million dollars in parking somehow. I also attend with a co-worker and we rely heavily on our phones to sync up meeting with each other. Instead, I'll just be a huge loner with a parking ticket.

I was going to write a paragraph on how things usually come in threes and how I wanted to crawl into a hole for the rest of the day, but in between this post my sister calls me to tell me that my hamster just attempted to commit suicide. Apparently, she walked in to check on them this morning after I had left, and one of them was hanging in mid air (like with its neck alone stuck between the metal rungs). Luckily, it wasn't dead yet, even though it had shallow breathing, and she got a pair of pliars to free it. This is actually the second incident in the Bizarre Pet Chronicles as a few days ago one of my fish randomly disappeared. Naively, I just assumed that it died and that my mom or sister flushed it to fishie heaven. Yeah...not so much...which means that its dead rotting carcass is still out there somewhere either in the tank or on the floor.

Strike three, I'm out.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Apparently I like repetition.

For some strange reason, I like J. Holiday's new song "Bed," despite it being really hardcore hip-hop. And as I was listening to the song I suddenly found myself able to sing along, even though I haven't heard it that many times yet. This is because the song is DAMN repetitive. Take a look at the pre-chorus:

[Pre-chorus:]

I love it (I love it)
You love it (You love it)
Everytime (Everytime)
We touchin (We touchin)
I want it (I want it)
You want it (You want it)
I'll see you (see you)
In the morning (In the morning)

If you ignore the words and just concentrate on the structure, it's pratically like a Hooked-on-Phonics teaching course. When I say A, you say A. But the revelations get better:

[Chorus:]

I wanna put my fingers thru your hair
Wrap me up in your legs
And love you till your eyes roll back
I'm tryin to put you to bed, bed, bed
I'mma put you to BED, BED, BED (<~~~ GASP!)

If you actually listen to it, it sounds more like he's saying "put you to Bed, eh, eh...".


Eh?


Eh?!


EH!


Yes, that's right folks. This little ditty is ripped straight off of Rihanna's "Umbrella" (which probably explains why I like it)!!!

she'sagreatperformer.jpg

So last night I went to see Rihanna perform at the House of Blues on Sunset. Yes, Rihanna, the little 19-year old Barbados native who performs my love "Umbrella" ella ella eh eh eh.

Four words: She Tore It Up.

Maybe I am just completely disheartened by the tragedy that is Britney Spears, but Rihanna revived the icon that is a pop star by embodying what a great performer should truly be like. She burst onto the stage with a bang. She was sassy and playful with the crowd. She sounded great and in tune (with what I assume was her real voice, ahem). She wore a cute (albeit, short) memorable outfit - and was not riding L. Lo style. And even though she was at a venue way too small for her (the place was packed!), she filled the room with such infectious energy that by the end everyone was rocking out like pawns in her hand.

Though she may not have the range of Mariah or the dance moves of Ciara, she certainly knows how to captivate a crowd by shaking and shimmying what she's got. All 7 feet of it. (She's actually 5'8'' I guess, but she looked like a behemoth on stage. HUGE stage presence, natch!). And while the set was a little too short, nonetheless, it was pretty sweet.

Catch Me If You Can

This discussion has come up frequently of late (mostly with my friend, Mold Eater) so I decided that I'll just do a post about it.

It's kind of funny because anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a mushy, romantic, ga-ga type of person. But for some strange reason, I loveeee romantic comedies.

Though it's really REALLY rare that you find a good one, when a romantic comedy is done well, I literally just melt into a puddle of sappy goo. After breaking it down, I realized that the part I enjoy most about rom-coms (or actually any form of romance for that matter) is the Chase.

Because honestly, who really wants to see the part after that. If I wanted to see people suck face and grope each other I would look into Senor Cluck and the Robot's bedroom. I mean do you really want to watch people sit around and talk about their lame daily existence? Going to work, picking up the dry cleaning, making dinner... Please, I've got my own lame existence to bore me.

This is why the Chase rules. It's really the fantasy of seeing people do things they would never do, say things they would never say, and be with people they would probably never get. And, at the very core of it all, is the beautifully agonizing yearning process.



Ahhhhh, the straining tension of it all. It really only makes moments like this all the sweeter.

FOCKtober.

It's sad that 90% of my blog is bitching but I guess that's what blogs are really good for.

Thank god it's more than half over, because my October has been one giant piece of turd so far. The only thing sustaining me from a nervous breakdown right now (or going postal office on everyone) is the fact that I'm going to NY in a few weeks. It's going to be my first break since Europe and I really cannot wait to get the hell out of town...for four days =(. Hopefully the weather will be nice (aka brisk but no rain please!) so I can just wander around and take some pictures. Or sleep. Sleep is fine too.

I don't know why I feel so stressed out. It's like that moment in LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring where Bilbo (while zombied out by the presence of the ring) was like "I feel like butter over too much bread." My life just feels really choppy and disorganized and I feel like I'm always running next to the train trying to jump on but not quite making it.

To make matters worse, my back has been sore for like a month. I really think I'm getting posture problems like Heather from ANTM with the Ass Burger's. Maybe it's time for me to stop sleeping on the couch and get a new bed.

On the bright side, "Chuck" is on tonight! Thanks for making life a lil' less crappy for 42 minutes NBC.

Bonus lesson:

Today's list of stupidity revolves around the letter "E."

1) Evite.
2) Ebay.
3) Ecoli. (I mean who really likes E.coli anyway.)

Trailer Trash: Stop-Loss

I've decided to create a series on trailer reviews in my blog since my life revolves so heavily around the lil' marketing buggers anyway. Mostly, I will post trailers that I think look cool or interesting (yes, the title is an oxymoron), but every once in a while I will throw up the cream of the crap as well.

Below is the trailer for Kimberly Pierce's ("Boy's Don't Cry") new film "Stop-Loss." Besides the obvious fact that Channing Tatum is in the movie, I really liked the overall style of the piece. Particularly awesome is the first minute or so, where big war propaganda like copy is being splashed across the screen cut perfectly to a death metal song with random stock photos. Then they decide to end it with Snow Patrol ("Open Your Eyes") and that just clinched it.



Note: If you're ever in doubt of the power of Snow Patrol, watch "The Last Kiss" trailer.

Feeling like 2 of the 7 Dwarves...

Sleepy and Grumpy.

I think the world woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Everyone that I have talked to has been having a crappy day, and to make matters worse, it's also dragging like a mofo.

I totally made the mistake of taking two classes at the same time. Even though they are fun classes that I wanted to take, the two together plus 50-60 hours of work a week and 10 hours of familial slavery makes me a SAD PANDA. All I want to do right now is climb back under my awesome comforter (the burrito) and watch the 25 hours of TV that is sitting on my exploding Tivo.

BTW, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAC! One year close to being rapable...

Title Wave

I'm sure most of you (all two who have read this) are wondering what the hell the title of my blog means. It's actually from the ABC show "Pushing Daisies," which I find to be one of the best new shows on TV.

In last week's show, introverted Ned (the pie-maker) makes the mistake of telling everyone that he hates secrets, to which Chuck (his resurrected BFF) says, "What? You love secrets. You want to marry secrets and have little half-secret, half-human babies."

Essentially, this quote surmises the blog into who I am. Yes. Only half human.


Damn, I should have used dashes.

Congratulations! It's a ...

So I've decided to create a blog. I really don't know why since usually blogs are either for people with fascinating lives or people without fascinating lives but who write their mundanity in a way that is fascinating.





I am neither of those people.

...which I guess makes me a boring idiot. But luckily, you get to read about it! Yay!

Not quite sure what I will be posting on this blog. Most likely my thoughts (when I have them).
In fact a friend of mine (I use that term loosely in case he's reading), who I shall call Senor Cluck (SC) to protect his identity, even told me:

Senor Cluck: what are you gonna write on it

you don't seem like the type to write about your daily happenings

So there you have it. The disclaimer that I will probably update this thing like once in a blue moon. Check back in November. Seacrest out!

Note: This damn spell checker is telling me that mundanity is not a word. Since I am addicted to Scrabulous (on facebook) , dictionary.com is practically my homepage. It's a word biyatch.