The week of December 3rd through December 9th.
Welcome to one lame and slow week here at the Whoop-doo Nation. There's not much going on in Hollywood. At all. Even the cunt rollcall quintet seems rather absent. Heck, we've had to run goofy stories about the The X-Files 2 movie (twice) and fan art of the Cloverfield monster just to keep the blood flowing through these writers' strike-stricken veins. I think the on-line community is about to have a heart murmur.
Ouch, did you feel that?
No biggie! We'll keep breathing. There's still a modicum of excitement going on somewhere. Take a look...
17? Boo!
17? Boo! When I first heard about this film, I thought, "Well. Alright. This could be fun." Then they added Zac Efron. "Hmm? I haven't seen High School Musical. But the kid was pretty cool in Hairspray." I was still on board. Then I read in In Touch that the creepy phenom known as the Zef! was sporting cake make-up and long fake eyelashes on a non-shooting day. That really creeped me out. Next, they cast Chandler Bing. Sorry. I'm still not over the trauma he and Bruce Willis caused with that gruesome anal rape scene in The Whole Ten Yards. I forgive Bruce, cause, you know...He's Bruno. He's also John McClain. Who the fuck is Matthew Perry? A pinched-faced cock sucker as far as I am concerned. Now they've hired Michelle Trachtenberg as the film's quasi-love interest. That didn't totally ruin it for me, though she reminds me of the girl in middle school that had infatigo scabs all over her upper lip. It's what her character does. She falls in love with the 17 year old Efron. Not knowing that he's her father. This is clearly a rip-off of "Back to the Future". Blatant. And it stings the tongue. Someone, please, remind me why we are having a writers' strike again? Oh, I get it now. These writers aren't being compensated enough for producing original works. So, to make up for that four cents, they are whoring out their old ideas to get the money they originally desereved. Okay. I am in. Give them their four cents! I would much rather watch Back to The Future a thirteenth time then have to swill this generic black-and-white labeled beer down the back of my throat. It sounds about as attractive as wrapping myself in a cum-covered blank that Elliot Offen spanked on.
Bale? Whoop-doo!
Christian Bale in Terminator Salvation: The Future Begins? Whoop-doo! I like this a lot. Christian Bale is a consummate performer, and he adds a bit of class to this, a film begging to be called stale and crusty. For a while, it seemed about as appetizing as a bit of snot crust that had fallen into my chili. I can't wait to hear the direction they are taking with the rest of the cast. I personally wish Schwarzenegger would come back. I don't care what anyone says, he isThe Terminator. I enjoyed Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines, but that Loken chick was just too damn hot to be scary. Add to the fact that she is a Lesbo, and I'm all but humping the screen. I never thought I'd be caught in the dormitory bathroom tickling lil' Denzel's 4-skizzy to a killing machine, but those pictures of her tongue wrestling with Michelle Rodriguez were a little too over powering. I need a Terminator that will scare the shit stains out of my shorts. I need a Terminator that is Tony Cox scary. Javier Bardem already cornered the market this year with his screen rendition of Chugar. Dj Qualls would make for a pretty scary Terminator. "Oh, shit! It's the nerd kid! He's the machine! Kill him!" Perez Hilton and that "Leave Brittany Alone" tine-tickler are pretty scary, too. "Oh, shit! It's the annoying gay dude! He's a machine! Kill him!" Maybe they should just make the Terminator a shape-shifting dog this time out. That would be awesome. Look at me, I just saved the AMPTP four cents! I'm a hero! And a scab. Boo!
Knievel Makes the World's Biggest Jump? Boo!
Evel Knievel has made his last jump? Boo! Wait, I thought he was already dead. Seriously, I didn't even know this guy was still alive and walker-jumping the early bird buffet. Now I am sad all over again. I mourned his loss sitting up late one night, watching Viva Knievel. That is a superior shot of cinematic magic. Hopefully, Knievel and Gene Kelly are dancing around in heaven, having a good laugh and a pull of jerky over the whole thing. I'm happy for ol' Evel. Instead of trying to land that squirt shot in a bedpan, he's up above us leaping over fifty cloud shapes that look like various vehicles while a choir of angels sing the Star Spangled Banner. It's Christmas season. Someone, please, ring that telephone so he gets his red, white, and blue wings. I'd want Knievel watching over me. A true guardian. Looks like I am going to have to pull his chin trimmings off of Ebay this afternoon. I think I've decided that I want to keep them.
Pam Quits Show Business? Whoop-doo!
Pam Anderson retires? Whoop-doo! Pam was cute around the time she was dating Scott Baio. And then it was all down hill. From there. I never got the whole "She's the most beautiful girl in the world" thing. She always looked like a CGI cartoon to me. Don't get me wrong, I was infatuated with her work boot facade as a kid when she had that small role on Home Improvement. But I never could get into the whole Baywatch thing. When she had her natural face and body, she was perfect. I could watch her chug Labat Blue all day long. But then the girl started to look like a melted candle version of herself. And there was that unfortunate mishap, where she wound up with Tommy jizz all over her face. It was like you could always see a bit of dried chizzum around the corners of her mouth ever after that. It was slightly disgusting. Any promise she held for screen glory was destroyed with Barb Wire. She added a bit of whimsy to Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. But then what? She is a cultural stigmata. And I'm sorta glad she is going away. Of course, we all know this is a rouse. She's just testing the waters. She wants to hear the cumulative disappointment from her fans. She'll sneak back onto the scene just like Jay-Z and J-Jizzy, respectfully.
The Joker? Boo!
New Joker Pictures? Boo! These are awful. This Heath Ledger guy looks like he's headed off to a High School Halloween party being thrown by the class president of Dawson's Creek. Someone in our on-line discussion boards stated that these look like pictures off a cheap trick-or-treat costume package. I couldn't agree more. I thought this movie was supposed to be good. These photos make it look like an after-birth turd. Michael Cain has been spouting and touting the scariness of Ledger's performance. Yeah, right, he looks about as scary as a gay cowboy on his way to a pride parade. I don't care for Batman much. And this makes me want to see the new one even less. I realize now that Cain is a brilliant actor, and he is just trying to sell this swamp dog. God, I wish that was not the case. BUT LOOK AT THESE PICTURES! They are atrocious. Down right disappointing. Who let this shit out of the bag? I would have bottled this stuff until at least a couple of months prior to release.
Patton Screams? Whoop-doo!
Mike Patton Makes some noise for I Am Legend? Whoop-doo! I am a huge Mike Patton fan, and this news actually makes me excited for this project. I knew something funky was up with the Vampire screams in this Will "I'm not a Scientologist, but I spout Dianetic lingo every chance I get!" Smith horror festival. They didn't sound computer generated, or artificial. They also don't sound like anything manmade either. Of course this thronic screeching came from the throat muscles of Eureka's favorite child. His neck is thicker than Michael Clark Duncan's upper thigh. Patton is hands-down the best vocalist on the planet. Who else do you know that can go from singing Opera, to Pop, to horrific demon squelches at the drop of a dime? I'm glad to see that more and more producers are recognizing his unique talents. Though, it is quite strange that Grey's Anatomy has taken a shine to his Ipecac record label. It seems like every episode is supporting one of Patton's acts. Good for them. I'm glad Patton is getting some much-needed mainstream attention.
Cox Live? Whoop-doo!
Cox Across America? Whop-doo! I am wholeheartedly impressed with Jon C. Reilly. He took his Dewey Cox musical act on the road and sold it with true authenticity. I caught the Roxy performance the other night, and it was as good and tight as any fourteen-year-old virgin. Reilly belted out each song with gusto, selling the whole shtick without a bit of irony or cheesiness. This is serious business. And great entertainment. The songs are really good, too. Without them, the film would be nothing. It just wouldn't work. Sure, there are one or two clunkers in the entirety of the cannon. But for the most part, this whole thing is a shinning success. I wish Reilly and the Hard Walkers would tour annually. I would pay to see these guys perform. Reilly should be really proud of himself. I'd say this is the best example of an actor turning into a rock star that I have ever witnessed. He actually sells it. I'm a believer. And I'm on the fence with the movie. If you get a chance to see Dewey Cox perform live, do it. It's more exciting than the time Lenny and Squiggy played the Roxy. And they were backed by the Blues Brothers Band and members of Spinal Tap (not joking, Google it!)
Alright. That's it for me this week. We'll be back next week with an extensive look at birds in the media. Woodstock, Woody Woodpecker, Big Bird, Gonzo, Foghorn Leghorn? What sort of cultural impact have they had on our community? Join us for the answer. Its one you wont want to miss!