Lay Off That Whiskey & Let That Cocaine Be

Hahahahahacokehahahahaha.

You really have to look at the entire series of pictures...

Truly stunning. My personal favorites involve the coke & the root beer.

Super-meta-ed-out

Like I'm staring at a window that reflects a mirror that reflects a pool of water that my double is staring into.

To wit: Last night an April asked me if I was born in April.

We know how I feel about that question. And I ended up catching a bit of foot-in-mouth disease.

"You're an April! You can't ask an April that question!"

After I chided her, I was informed that she was in fact born in April & that her parents did in fact have no imagination. She actually spent the first week of her life with no name.

I find that a bit disquieting. And I wonder whether her middle name mightn't really be "Mayjune".

LOL

Shit like this is what teh internets are fucking made for...

Song charts. How did I not know about this? I'm glaring at you, Mandy.

You can't beat that one for sheer simple brilliance, but I'm also partial to this:

Which reminds me, I need Blur back in my life. To the Music Millennium!

These Shoes Sing To My Soul

This is the present I awarded myself after I managed to select a pair of boring plain brown flats (for comfortable non-sneakered city walking) without crying or throwing up:


Lots more views are available here. I wish Zappos weren't so expensive (for ince, I picked these up on clearance at DSW for $42 less than what they're charging), because I would dearly love to support their shoe pornography on a financial basis.

And yes. This post's title is an accurate recount of the exact words that came into my mind when I saw these. What can I say? They were made just for me.

Also, let the record show that I indulged in mad shopping this weekend past & purchased not one single sparkly thing. Marvel at my self-restraint. Bow down before my greatness.

Finally, speaking of sparkly...I spasmed when I saw these. If I ever see them on sale I will buy them, but they are waaaayyy too impractical for me to throw $100 at 'em.

My Bitches Wear My Collars

Let's be clear about one thing: I adored the first Elizabeth movie. The palace intrigue, the betrayed young princess, the sumptuous costumes, the oh-so-meaningful shadows & light. ALL of it. I get into that bodice-ripping double-crossing soap operatic stuff like nobody's business. It is a shameless & naive love, & Elizabeth the first is a near-perfect example of its shiny dollar store beauty. It also bestowed upon me a decade-long adoration for Cate Blanchett that no number of middling Oscar bait vehicles can diminish.

There are two things of which I was unsure: (1) Why did they make a sequel? and (2) How did I not even know it existed until the Oscar nominations were announced? The former remains a mystery, which goes a long way toward explaining the latter. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I have not seen a movie made in this century that I have actually enjoyed since early November, when I saw Ang Lee's Lust, Caution (N.B. It's totally worth checking out). Well, I did like the Lindsay Lohan stripper movie. But I also hated it, so I'm not sure it counts. Don't do this to me, brain. I love tawdry! I love slick! I love sprawling epic! Lately every movie I've watched ('cept M. Hulot's Holiday & Mon Oncle) has bored me senseless. I actually fell asleep in a movie theater during Michael Clayton last week. I was sober. The last time that happened, I was drunk, high & stuffed full of Vicodin. I cry foul.

ANYWAY. Back to Elizabeth: The Golden Age. It's pretty awful. Everybody looks bored out of their minds. Abbie Cornish, who plays Elizabeth's little handmaiden (& is called Bess though her full name is ALSO Elizabeth OMG totally meaningful!!!1!!1!!), is boringly pretty in an utterly typical fashion & appears to have all the mental faculties of Tupperware (& that curtain in the picture at left looks almost exactly like the shower curtain I had before I got my silver disco-tastic one). The usually yummy Clive Owen, who generally manages to be the only generically handsome leading man type that I crush on & I admit provided quite the impetus for me to move this to the top of my queue, delivers the most ridiculous lines as though he believes them not one iota. You must say the platitudes as though they emerge from the very bowels of your shallow soul, man! His clear disdain for his words makes him a poor character. And, really, the entire cast seems to be comprised of somnolent Cesares. Sheesh. With the sole exception of Ms. Blanchett, who (1) appears marginally interested & (2) has the dignity to believe in her dialogue cliches. Should you insist upon watching it, just compare the moment at which Owen says, "We mortals have many weaknesses; we feel too much, hurt too much or too soon we die, but we do have the chance of love" with Blanchett's delivery of "I have a hurricane in me that will strip Spain bare when you dare to try me!" It's no more possible to believe that Sir Walter Raleigh has any fucking clue about love than it is to doubt inner fury with which Elizabeth burns. Actually, the scene in which she exclaims with righteous fury, "You ask my permission before you fuck. Before you breed. My bitches wear MY collars" whilst slapping the bitch in question is the single moment of fabulosity in the film entire. (Though...if her bitches really did wear her collars, it probably would have been a way more interesting movie.)

The problem is, this Elizabeth is simply not as compelling or interesting as the first film's. She has already chosen power over love, & apparently the writers' solution to creating romantic intrigue is to make her a whiny vicious sex-starved shrew. I don't know. Shouldn't it, to paraphrase Mel Brooks, be good to be the queen? I mean...surely she could get herself some ass right quick. Which wouldn't really solve the whole love-hungry thing, but at least it'd take care of the sex, right? UGH. I really fucking hate it when movies make me play feminist. It is so very irritatingly inimical to my nature. My solution then? Focus on the production elements to maintain interest. And, oh my, I want, I need, I long for a foyer that would do justice to this:



We'll ignore the raging obviousness of that purple. I, um, actually got bored enough to take my own pictures during the film, in case I couldn't find any online. So here's another:


And, holy cow, the horse frills & THAT MARVELOUS CAPE:


I want that cape. Were I a butch lesbian, I would probably have serious Cate Blanchett fantasies from the armor, too.

I also decided that feathers are totally ready for their accoutrement-status comeback in both clothing & home fashion(love the collar too):


Seriously, I'm starting to think I may have missed my calling. I would be a fantastic decorator.

Pop Quiz, Asshole

Exhibit A most fully illustrates which of the following:


(a) Why April actually really doesn't need to force herself to emerge from her hermit-hole more often.
(b) Why nobody should ever give April pen & paper when she's four deep in whiskey & ginger ales (despite the atrocious penmanship & extra period in the ellipsis I'm pleased to note my confidence in my spelling wavered not).
(c) Why April should never go see Paul Thomas Anderson movies that make her want to drink large amounts in short periods of time.
(d) All of the above.

Re: There Will Be Crap Blood - I had a dream on Saturday which I think exemplifies the way I felt about it. I dreamt that I was in one of those super-cheesy rent-to-own furniture places, with all those tacky wares, & I was secretly smoking cigarettes inside. And the character of Eli was the manager of the chintz & the cheese.

If that doesn't make sense, how 'bout this:

"Sometimes I look at people & I see nothing worth liking."

I felt the exact same way. When I was fifteen. And that is one reason why I didn't like it. I don't need happy-happy-joy-joy, y'know, but for heaven's sake, if I want to gorge on the relentlessly downbeat & the thoroughly misanthropic, if I want to nurse disdain & hatred for all mankind,

well,

I'll watch the news. There are enough puppy abusers & wife beaters & school shootings to give me a veritable feast of vitriol.

Not to give anything away, but I totally misjudged it from the preview. I thought it was going to be...more. An exploration of something besides ugliness. I expected, well, I expected the dynamic between Daniel & Eli to be...less material.

There is one single element of that film by which I have been interested these last few days, however, & that is the character of Paul. You know, the guy who was onscreen for five whole minutes. Who I think may have been the character that I expected Eli to be. The fact that they were played by the same actor muddles things. Oh, & I will grant you the film was pretty to look at.

But now I implore you - did you see this movie? Did you like it? WHY? I'm so serious, you have no idea. I need to know. One of the people with whom I went to the theater had seen it four times before, & so I asked him why he liked it so much, but...I didn't get a real answer & I know that people are creaming themselves over this & I want to understand. Need input, Steph-a-nie, input.