Outdated Movie Review

I caught Jon Favreau's new movie, ELF today. Well, its not really that new at all...now is it. I got to admit, for a kiddie movie/hollywood fluff there was a lot there to stare at. The north pole scenes made me think of those old ass stop motion animation Christmas specials that they used to show on CBS when i was a kid and that took me back into all these childhood memories about Christmas. Like the time I bitched to my parents that they didn't even try that Santa Claus gag with me, and the next morning (like december 3rd) there was a gift from Santa under the tree. Or that time my mom took me to Toys-r-Us and asked me which toys I would like for christmas, promptly bought them all, wrapped them, threw them under the tree and handed them out to all my cousins on Christmas, while she handed me some socks or underwear...(f*** YOU, dude! I want Zartan!)

Where was I? Oh yeah, the movie! So what I liked. I liked Zoey Deschanel! She rocks. She is really attractive in a japanese anime kind of way. I like her being cynical and with a slouched back, in my wierd fantasies that's usually how she is. I liked the cameo by Amy Sedaris (sister of David) and the shout out to David Sedaris' book Santa Land Diaries , " Did Crumpet send you?". Nice, subtle. Well played. But what was not subtle and what saved the movie is Will Ferrell. I have decided that will be in my movie when i make it and he's going to play my brother. Damn that dude is great. Hah!

Evil

THANKSGIVING AND MY FAMILY (PART 1)

For the most part, my family doesn't eat together at the table anymore. It started years back -- I had just entered college at the time -- and my parents moved from Jackson Heights to Flushing. The new house had a dining room, but from the start my dad claimed it as his office space. Besides, with me leaving the house, my sister already in college, my dad with his erratic work schedule, it only made sense to use the dining room for something practical. On occasions when we did get together as a family, we would just eat scattered about the house and that seemed fine to everyone.

I mention this bit of history because I spent Thanksgiving with my parents and grandparents. My uncles, aunts, and cousins were there too. This was at my grandparents' house so they actually had a dining room table and as such, I sat down to a meal with family for the first time in quite a while. My dad made me sit next to him, which I guess was fine because it beats sitting next to any of my strange uncles.

We have this one uncle, Second Uncle, who was in the military for many years and fought on the front lines in Vietnam. We're all pretty sure that the experience made him somewhat crazy. He's unmarried, works in a factory, and has several gold teeth -- old school style. He likes to talk about "the war" and offer to break out the old black and white photos of him in his army uniform.

And then there's Third Uncle, but everyone calls him Fat Uncle because, well, because he's fat. My family is creative like that. But anyway, I try to avoid Fat Uncle as much as possible because he's always pestering me to mentor his son, who of course, is my cousin. My cousin is 2 years younger than me and has been trying to complete his undergraduate degree going on 7 years now. He's declared and undeclared majors in business management, American literature, and international relations. He lives in his parents' basement and emerges into the light only to play networked games on the PC. I mean really, what am I supposed to do for this kid?

Lastly, there's Fourth Uncle, but since he's the last, we call him Small Uncle. In his youth, Small Uncle dreamed of being the biggest pop star in all of Vietnam. He's 36 now and in some ways, he's still holding on to that dream. About once or twice a month, he'll work a gig at a Vietnamese wedding, doing the MC'ing and singing. Apparently (according to my dad), there's quite a demand for Small Uncle in the Vietnamese wedding circles. Who knew?

One time, my dad told me that Small Uncle has promised to sing at my wedding and my immediate reaction was to make this gesture of a noose going around my neck and snapping taut. My dad was so disappointed at my outright disrespect that he simply lowered his eyelids and shook his head. My mom caught hold of the entire exchange but she kept in the background, as she was nearly doubled over in laughter. My mom does a lot of that stuff -- hanging in the background and laughing at other people (mostly at family).

Part 2... coming soon.

Road Trip!!!

In a couple of hours, I will be leaving for O-Town, Orlando for those not familiar with the "Dirty South." I am going to be hanging out with my former roomate Bad Will Hunting and his brother (his fantasy baseball league team name was CreamOfSomeYoungThai).

I think we are ready to start scouring the Magic Kingdom for some boobage...I am ready to try one of those patented moves I read here in the blog a while back, you know, the one where you just grab the girls arm or something or other.

If you get a collect call from Orlando, please take the call. Its probably me calling for bail money because Minnie is pressing charges.

I just hope its not as lame as when Los Bros. Barrera invaded Miami.

Big Head / Little Big Head

Yo, are you guys going to be in town for Thanksgiving?...I have been meaning to pay a visit to that hot spot of Orlando's nightlife, what is it called? Oh yeah, Rachel's Steak and Gentlemen Club...Give me a call on my cell if you want to hang...

I just spent two hours editing video of myself conducting an interview with a Product Manager at a company called WindRiver (they do embedded systems).

First off, I am one ugly mofo...and apparently (according to the interview) I am also quite dumb asking inane questions, like Charlie Rose, only with a much poorer vocabulary.

Excuse me, I msut go drink...

Happy Thanksgiving!



[courtesy of www.ocfan.blogspot.com]

Xtian, your previous post is titled "morning wood" and the content refers to myself as well as Steve. Hmmm...which one of us does your subject line refer to? We don't know whether to be honored or worried. Actually, Steve is really hoping its about him. I don't want to have to food-fight him over your attention.

morning wood

I think i have found my soulmate and her name is Rina. Rina, check out my Friendster photos, I'm good stuff. I just have less time on my hands than Sleeve does.

BTW Sleeve, nice job with the photoshop. It would be funnier if you cropped out Paris' face and crop mine in...WTF???

I wholeheartedly agree with Xtian's rant concerning TV characters who just get too f**king lucky. Its screws up our youth.
Do you remember when Saved By the Bell's Zach - a moron who couldn't even think of clever schemes to avoid detention or that horny psycopath Screech- got a near perfect SAT score and was recruiruited by Harvard? Godamn Harvard, people. Zach Morris would not even be capable of handling ITT Tech.
I blame shows like this for scewing my vision of reality and contributing to my breakdown when I ate ding-dongs, watched the Nanny, and played foosball during senior year instead of studying and was then rejected by Harvard. "Zach got in - so why can't I?"
I'm so sick of situations working out for TV characters. Although I love them, I kind've want to see them suffer [is that normal?]

However, I disagree with you XTian concerning Kelly. I want to see more of 90210 Kelly Taylors -- pretty girls who get shot at, burned, robbed, abused, kidnapped, cheated on 18 times, in addition to getting drawn into a cult by lesbians [Dec. Season five]. Now that's refreshing and entertaining.

BRITNEY SPEARS PERFORMING ARTS FOUNDATION CAMP APPLICATION:


NAME: Rina [last name withheld by COB]
AGE: 21
LOCATION: 200 [street name withheld by COB], New York, NY
TALENT: Being just like Britney
DID YOU INCLUDE $25 APPLICATION FEE? Yes, and one of my favorite thongs as well

PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY YOU ARE QUALIFIED AND WANT TO JOIN CAMP BRITNEY:


When I first performed on Star Search, I remember losing to some Ku Klux Klan 10 -year old pimply shithead who sang Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." After he kicked me in the groin, infected me with Type 2 cooties, and stole my candy machine money, I held my arm out to heaven and swore as God as my witness, I'll never let white trash win again. To me, that's what Britney embodies - not letting trash like Christina Aguilera or Willa Ford prevail in the radio-airwave battle for pop music icons. Over the past years, I’ve studied and emulated Britney's strategic moves: pigtails, wearing slutty clothing while claiming to be wholesome, lying about my sexual history, dancing erotically, dating a gay pop singer, and kissing older women.


I've taken numerous belly-dancing and stripper dance classes at New York’s esteemed Baby Doll Gentlemen’s Club in addition to training with zoo snakes and sea lions in preparation for my future MTV VMA skanky dance performance. Whenever I wrap a baby seal around my shoulders and swing my hips back in forth while singing "I'm a Slave For You," I can strongly feel the presence of Britney's spirit. I think of how Britney overcame her leg injury and gathered the courage to pose virtually topless in Esquire and it gives me the strength to venture sans-bra to the corner supermarket to pick up some Campbell's canned tomato soup. I understand the incredible impact Britney has on my generation and I want to join the forces of Britney's PR campaign to help transform more young pre-pubescent girls into her hot-ass image.



At Camp Britney, I intend to express my singing and acting talents and hopefully pick up a nasally Southern drawl - just like my BritBrit. In addition to performing in my 2nd grade "Hanukkah Maccabe spectacular," I also hum the Beverly Hills 90210 theme every time I drive in L.A. and know all 23 Old Navy commercial jingles by heart. In addition, I have recorded, on my Hello Kitty personal tape recorder, my very own version of Sir Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back" called "Brit's got a rack"

I hope you will consider me as a candidate for Camp Britney as I look forward to spreading the gospel of Pop's Princess to those less fortunate without MTV or Access Hollywood.
I can't wait to have naked pillowfights and roast nuts Brit! See you soon!
XOXO,
Rina

TV Educations

Had a pretty long breakfast conversatin about Party of Five this morning with one of my roommates. After a while we realized that neither one of us remembered anything about season 6. Although I do recall a lot about the ill-fated, Time of Your Life spin off that featured Jennifer Love Hewitt's character.

Anyway, interest pequed I hit TvTome to figure out what fate befell the poor Salinger family, kids that could never catch a break.

Apparently, Julia wrote a book (the hell? wasn;t she like a stripper? and what about Griffen? Was he still working as a grease monkey?)
Charlie married Kirstin (i guess it stuck that time)
Claudia went to Stanford (over Julliard...weren't these kids left orphan?? are they actually the descedants of JD Salinger?)
Here's the kicker....freaking Baily, useless quiter, boozer baily who managed to flunk out of San Fran Community State College (or was it Pen.) somehow moved to Philly to attend the Wharton School of Business????

The hell??? that's bullsh*t. In a rage, I checked with Scooter about this. He was amused and confused as well, but also pointed out that 90210 ended with boozer, coke head, cultist, Kelly leaving the zip code we all don't know but love for the warm embrace of morningside heights, to attend Grad school AT COLUMBIA!!!

Are you kidding me?
Are there any other shows where characters get cut a break on the season finale just so no one has to worry about them anymore? what a cop out! write me if you can think of another one...

See that's what made Buffy the Vampire Slayer a superior show, most characters (Zandar, Cordelia) didn't even get into college (freaking Oz got held back!!!) and those that did (Buffy and Willow) quickly flunked out admist a wave of slaying, lesbianism, S&M and addiction....that's reality (well except the vampires maybe)

A Man of Limited means and talent...

can still put it on Big Dog style when he needs to.



Fill in your own backstory. Here's mine:

His suit looks sharp, but its bargain basement from a Ralph Lauren Outlet store. It was one of those rare finds. You know how it goes at the Outlets, you walk from rack to rack, sticking your hand in there and fishing about, bogarting every old lady within 5 ft of you. Most times you come empty handed, every once in a while you find a sharp pinstripe suit and somehow run out with it. The shirt looks decent too, except our hero neglects to tell anyone its a Today's Man knock off of a far more expensive shirt. The cigar is of the low end on a good brand.

The whole look costs 200 bucks at most....what a posuer

While we're on the subject, why are his eyes closed? Like I said, posuer...

Green Hue

I had a dream last night, it was The Chad throwing a slant to Santana and then doing a fade to the back of the endzone to this guy.

Evil
Yo X-TIAN... stop hating women. Who are you, Mr. Shoulders?

Fighting Crime


What's her super hero name?
Dirty Ho?

Evil

A conversation between Bill Singer (Mets special assistant) and Kim Ng (Dodgers assistant general manager), according to the New York Times:

Singer -- "What are you doing here?"

Ng -- "I'm working."

Singer -- "What are you doing here?"

Ng -- "I'm working. I'm the Dodger assistant general manager."

Singer -- "Where are you from?"

Ng -- "I was born in Indiana and grew up in New York."

Singer -- "Where are you from?"

Ng -- "My family's from China."

Singer -- Nonsensically mock Chinese, then "What country in China?"

Dude! That is sooo right out of second grade. People need to grow up. Besides, is Bill Singer gay or what? (Personally, I think the entire Mets organization is gay, but that's another topic altogether...) Kim Ng is a 31 year old chick who's assistant GM of the Dodgers. When she was 29, she was assistant GM of the Yankees. That chick sounds like a winner. If I ever met her, I'd be busy trying to hitch my wagon to her star instead of making fun of her.

Kim Ng, if you're reading this: email me or link up on Friendster, yo!

A Decade of Deviance...10 years of Hard Ons


There's a new No Doubt CD coming out, well a compilation of their hits actually,The Singles, 1992-2003 and its been 10 years of me wanting to bang Gwen Stefani! The compilation has all those songs you pretend you don't like but can't get out of your head and includes a new track, well a cover of It's my Life, a Talk Talk song from the early 80s that even a 9 year old X-Tian could not get out of his gigantic head. I visualize myself wearing karate shoes for no reason and a preposterously tight shirt singing along. Then I started thinking back on the decade and got back to the first time I realized Gwen was like the hottest chick ever! It was the Don't Speak video. Granted it was not their first video, but it was the first time i was like "damn, i wanna bang this chick" I was living with Weber on Riverside drive and it was the first time in my life I had cable. DAMN! This continued on till I read somewhere that she and Gavin Rosedale liked having sex to my favorite At The Drive In CD, Relationship of Command. After that, my love only grew stronger! And now even at the age of 34, I swear to god, I think she looks even better.

Annecdotal Evidence

Messr. Evil is speaking entirely from second sources on this whole B School Busines. But as someone who is living it, I must agree wholeheartedly. In Haasweek (home of the Hustle, published weekly!) at the beginning of the year there were over 2 pages full of wedding photos. Everyone in site with a rack to speak of was getting married. Now Haas, is an interesting scenario because there are not a lot of women here, but the women in general lean towards the attractive (well, far more so than Columbia Engineering did, with the possible of exception fo sexpot Janice...and maybe the short friend, on a very good day) The one thing that blows you away though, is the first week, you're walking around eager to make a pitch, and bam! you get poked in the eye with an engagement ring. Some of these things are so big, I expect Chad Pennington himself, to line up, take the snap and throw these things 15 yds. Its all about insecurity. Its like the dude is sitting there playing his playstion one day peaks up and realizes his GF is leafing through B School apps. One thought races through the mind.

"Holy Sh*t, this girl could meet and marry a banker at any moment!"

Next thing you know, the dude is overcompensating for his penis size with an engagement ring! Ladies, if you are at the point where its "shit or get off the pot" time with you man, just request some b school apps from Kellogg, Columbia and Wharton (and of course Haas...GO BEARS!) and just leave them around. Quickest way to close the deal I ever heard of.

Of course, if the lady does accept your work doesn't end there. My friend just started school and I dunno what her man is waiting on, but he has not produced the ring yet. Something about "the moment" or some crap. Dude, hurry up, there's a line forming yo! I mean sh*t I'm running around here hitting on everything in site, engaged chicks, single chicks, lesbians...(so sad)

On the ROI issue, its a good question, at least these Google chicks are going to generate some cash. Sounds great. These B School chicks are just racking up debt...debt and potential suitors for when you screw up. It's a loose loose situation. Fellas, think twice!

Evil

IPO FEVER

I've been at my new job for three weeks now and one thing is clear: IPO Fever is in the air. Now, all this IPO talk is pure speculation (and sooo 1999 at that), but a lot of people are really into it. Specifically, the boyfriends of females in the company.

Since I started work there, I've noticed a rash of marriage proposals. Every Monday, multiple chicks come in to the office wearing huge rings and bigger smiles. Clearly, their boyfriends are locking them up before the big IPO.

I guess it's like buying options on a stock. You don't actually own the stock (that would be marriage), but you own the option to buy. I think the boyfriends are making a smart play here, for several reasons:

For one thing, once a chick knows she's getting married, she starts working out like a maniac. Gotta look stunning in that wedding dress right? If you ask me, that's just an excuse for being vain. But hey, what man doesn't want his girl to lose a little chub off her thighs?

Secondly, the engagement ties her up until IPO time. If the IPO goes well, then marriage is obvious. If the IPO bombs, then... no commitments right? Isn't that what engagement is all about? Seeing if things will work out BEFORE getting married?

This situation in general also reminds me of dudes who propose to their girlfriends who are about to enter bschool. I mean, because everyone knows that bschool is a sausage factory and any girl who is unattached going in will surely have sausages waving at her face. I'd just like to point out that while the pre-IPO proposal is a good play, the pre-bschool proposal is risky at best. It's not like buying options. It's more like a venture capital investment. That stuff is so early stage, it's really hard to predict how things are going to turn out. But more importantly, remember the "capital" in venture capital. While your girl is back in school, guess who's paying for her Louis Vuitton handbag and other junk of the next two years? Yes, you! The VC game isn't for everyone, kiddies. How many John Doerr's are out there?

By the way, if there are any chicks out there reading this, I'm sure you've noticed that I'm quite the sensitive and caring guy. And oh, I'm pre-IPO!!! Drop me and email and a picture. You don't have to be naked in the picture, but it's preferable because if you're not, I'm just going to assume that you have bad stretch marks.

Here is an excerpt from next week's edition of the Hustle (appearing weekly in HaasWeek)

You know it’s bad when you can’t see.

Here I was sitting in this air-conditioned cab wondering where exactly this cab driver was taking me, becoming more and more convinced that he was more interested in taking me on a tour of Ft Lauderdale rather getting me back to my hotel in a timely fashion.

My excuse is the drinking. Somewhere between being sober and being drunk I’m just paranoid. As he sits there telling me stories about Nigeria and driving at his own pace, my mind is racing. Trying to figure out if I had seen any of this strip the night before or if I was anywhere near my hotel. At one point he slows down looking for my hotel in an area that I KNOW is not my hotel. That’s it. Party over.

“Let me out here”

“Sir, its no safe here”

“Shut up, pull over and let me out. You don’t know where I’m even going.”

“Sir I go to the address I gave you…”

This goes on for another block; I shove some bills at him and tell him to [expletive] off. This goes on back and forth for a minute as I get out of the car. The second I do the humidity in the air causes condensation to form on my glasses and they mist up something awful.

Like I said, you know it’s bad when you can’t see.

Anyway, now I am just pissed off and he drives away I drive home the meaning of my hand gestures with a series of disparaging comments about the Nigerian National futbol team.

As I wipe my glasses I evaluate the situation, I have no idea where I am and start walking. I dial 411 and narrow down what hotel I am staying at and get some directions. Apparently, the cab driver did sort of know where he was going, I just have 10 more blocks to go. En route, I interrupt a drug bust to ask the police officer if I am heading the right way.

I survey the detainee and ask him if he’s Haitian, the cop seems more than a little bothered by the fact that some possibly drunk dude who has managed to sweat straight through a wool suit is interrupting his bust. I tell the cat to “stay strong” and bop off towards to my hotel.

To read more, Please visit my site after Friday.

Evil

Today, I spent two solid hours sitting in on a conference call where people were throwing out issues left and right and nothing was getting done. It was the best two hours I've spent in a long time. Possibly, the best two hours ever! Let me explain...

I was in a conference room, the long-ass kind, where they put the long-ass table. You know, like a 20-foot table or something. The conference room has a row of windows that look out onto a skinny little hallway. The only reason why anyone would be in the skinny hallway is to get to the women's bathroom. During the entire conference call, I was looking into the hallway, but I couldn't see everything... because the window shades were pulled half-way down to make the room dark for the projector. As a result, all I could see was a little 18-inch sliver that extends from a normal person's waist up to that person's shoulders.

Is this all coming together? I spent the entire two hour call watching an endless parade of breasts saunter past the window. Breasts and breasts only. No head. No legs. Just jugs. Some great ones at that.

Having seen all this, I now realize what a tool I was to spend the last 3+ years of my life in the telecom industry. I should have been in the advertising industry all along. What scenery. Damn.

Evil
I saw on the news today that the unemployment rate dropped by 6% last month, which is pretty great news I think. The indicators are pointing toward an economic recovery. And even though I'm typically skeptical about these things, something happened last week to finally convince me.

I caught Sleave on IM and asked him is Falling Apart Index. Sleave reports that he's at 90. Then I caught X-TIAN, who reported that he's at a whopping 101 on the Index. Dude, X-TIAN is literally off the scale. I would have figured that living in a loser state like California (crazy Governor, out of control fires, the Oakland Raiders, etc.) would automatically knock 5 points off your FA Index, but apparently not. Pretty amazing stuff.

Then I thought about myself. As much as I like to claim that I'm falling apart, it's been a pretty good few weeks. For one thing, I'm part of the 6% who no longer wake up at noon and spend the day scratching our collective balls. That was fun the first 3 or 4 months, but you can only scratch so much before developing some bruising. Really. Take my word for it.

The other thing is that I actually managed to do that marathon thing last week. I don't really know why I decided to do it in the first place. I mean, I'm the type of person who won't get off the couch to pick up the remote control if I've knocked it to the floor. Instead, I'll try to change the channels with my toes. I've gotten decently good at it, actually. But anyway, now that the marathon is done with, I can do things that I enjoy, like resume my alcoholism. Boy, I really miss sitting on my living room floor on a Saturday night and popping open cans and cans of Natty Lights. Strictly a class operation.

So if you're watching Moneyline with Lou Dobbs and he throws a bunch of economic indicators your way, take all that stuff with a grain of salt. If you really want to know where the economy is headed, ask Sleave, X-TIAN, and me for the current FA Index measurements. (For the record, I am at 85.)

Evil
Every once in a while, people will insinuate that I'm a bad person. I hate that. You be the judge... this conversation took place recently, the night before the NYC Marathon:

Frog: It says here that the wheelchair record for the marathon is one hour something.
Evil: Big f'ing deal. Those guys don't need to do any work on the downhill. They get half the race for free!
Frog: I'm sure they'd trade that in for the use of their legs.
Evil: Oh.