Monday, November 22, 2004

I Broke My Fan

I did my laundry last night. I know that's the kind of interesting, cutting edge information you come here for, dear readers. I left the pile of finished laundry on the floor, intending to deal with it later. This morning, I grabbed the pair of pants I was going to wear to work and noticed how wrinkled they are. My personal appearance matters little to me (can't polish a turd) but the pants were so wrinkled they were bound to get me a lot of smartass comments on their behalf. I can hear it now: "Nice wrinkled fucking pants, shithead". So I picked up the pants by the waist (46) intending to give them a mighty shake, I flipped them over my head, and they got caught in the ceiling fan. Even though it's really cold in my apartment, I keep my fan running at all times. Despite my efforts to the contrary, there are all manner of weird smells emanating from the place, and the only thing that seems to help is keeping the air circulating. So my fan was going at a healthy clip and when my pants got caught the fan seized up, shot out a puff of smoke and froze in it's tracks with a very nice pair of my pants wrapped around it's axle. My landlord is a humorless fuck, who is still is angry over the time I asked him to fix my heater. It worked like this, I was really cold. Went to turn on my heater. It didn't work. The only external operating mechanism on the heater is a flip switch. I tried it. I tried it both directions. Nothing worked. I called him. He grumbled and bitched and moaned and came few hours later. He tried it. It worked fine. He patiently explained the concept of a flip switch to me. He left. The heater didn't work. Now that there is a chill in the air, I tried the heater again to no avail. I think I'm just going to have to wear pants and a sweater around my apartment the entire season.

Oh, the movie 'Overnight' piqued my interest enough where I rented 'The Boondock Saints' last night and watched it with my date, a extra large pepperoni and sausage pizza, and her close friend, a case of Miller High Life. I was going to write a review of it on my lunch 'break' (which doesn't really ever occur) but now I don't think I'm going to. There is just so much juvenile, improbable bullshit I wouldn't know where to start. The horrible performances, the wretched writing, the total lack of any understanding of police procedures, the type of misogyny that can only originate from a filmmaker with deep unresolved issues with the opposite sex, the entire movie stinks. On the plus side, the production values are pretty impressive. If anything, the movie made me want to form a vigilante group that murders lousy filmmakers. Adding to the 'what the fuck was that?' jaw agape feeling the movie throws at you every few minutes, absurd macho man Duffy packed his movie with enough homoeroticism (both overt and somewhat subtle) I was wondering if he was just a figurehead for the actual Director, Tom's Of Finland. Trying to write a full review, analyzing all the elements of the film that don't work, and the strange ones that come out of nowhere, would be like attempting to write a detailed blog entry summarizing and encompassing all of human history.

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