I should have known when I fell asleep in
Ring Two that it does not quite match up to the not-as-craptastic-as-I feared “original.” (And of course by “original” I mean “the American version they raped from the Japanese version and added a blond-haired chick and made all the frightening parts ridiculously blasé”). So I finished it last night. It’s not even worthy of a paragraph, so I’ll just entitle this piece:
Crap Ring Two expected me to believe about the afterlife- Videotapes that kill people seven days after viewing just appear in random cities when a poltergeist is apparently pissed. Evidently the afterlife is more technologically advanced than one would assume given their typical communication of Ouija boards and banging pots and pans together at three in the morning.
- A poltergeist that has up until this point been trapped in a video cassette can follow people she does not like to their new town. One could only assume that supernatural beings have also discovered the intricacies of rapid transit.
- When one’s wall starts to carve (all on its own, mind you) a rather large mural of a burning tree into your son’s bedroom wall...this really isn’t much cause for concern.
- Nor is drowning one’s child in the bathtub.
- Speaking of all things bathing-orientated, the bathroom is the undisputed portal to the underworld. Even if the bathroom is in a large state fair. The dead presumably find urinals quite homey.
- When you hit a deer, that deer will send a telepathic message to all other deer in the vicinity to chase and trample your car. This is especially true if this activity does not have a damn thing to do with the poltergeist chasing you.
I am SUCH a geek
So it’s that time of the year when Jenn cleans off her bookshelf to make room for the constant influx of new books. Here’s a couple things that got voted off the shelf and into the “bin to be donated to the book cart at the library/hospital/wherever will take them”
- Science Fiction – The history of Sci-Fi films - This book is mo fo-ing huge and takes up entirely too much space on my shelf. However despite my desire for more bookshelf space, it may not in fact go as I’ve been looking at it sadly when I see it in the bin. It may be giving me puppy eyes too.
- Spells, Charms, and Amulets – I was using this as a reference book for a fiction story, and I generally do not like getting rid of reference books because you never know when you might need them again. But people keep looking at me strangely when they see it on my shelf, and I get enough of that outside the privacy of my own home.
- Ed McMahon’s Biography – I have no idea how it got there, but it is ruining my street cred, and therefore it has to go.
- The biography of Hanna Barbara - Now I can rest easy knowing where Yogi Bear came from. However, now that this information has been obtained, I see no need to constantly reference it.
- An unusual mass quantity of Batman and Robin Coloring books – I’m really hoping these are not mine as I was in high school (maybe college?) when this movie was in theaters. But I do lapse into an embryonic state often (see mad Harry Potter Dash on July 15th), so I can’t be overly sure of this.
- A not-so-unusual mass quantity of books on Irish folklore – I went into an Irish kick not all that long ago, mostly because I have a bit of a thing for red-haired men. Then I realized I could still bang red-haired men without knowing anything about banshees. Hence, interest in Irish folklore waned significantly.
- Charlton Heston’s Hollywood – I have never looked at this as far as I know, nor do I have any desire to do so. And it’s a picture book. I’m frightened.
Postal Work Charged in Coffee Urine CaseAnd the weirdest goddamn thing I've seen in a whileNew exhibit at the zoo - HumansAll righty....that's enough to send you along on your merry weekend. I'll be back next week when I am not hacking up phlegm.
Still sickBut better. I actually underestimated how sick I was yesterday, because I didn’t even notice until much later that I had a fever. And I haven’t had one of those since I was eight years old, had the flu, and ended up puking in my sleep in my hair (apologies to those of you reading this at lunchtime). So, my night last night was basically an attempt to make the one-hour drive home without falling asleep on I-95, and laying on the futon watching SVU while moaning incoherently every couple of minutes. And the most frustrating thing was I could not regulate my temperature AT ALL. Turning on the air conditioner made me too cold, but when I turned it off, I was having hot flashes. So I turned on the air conditioner and got under a feather comforter. The current score is Brain 1, Body Temperature Regulator Center 0.
But I’m better today
Tired, a bit incoherent, and still oozing ectoplasm from various orifices, but I’m not ready to jam a pick ax into my skull. Obviously, I am making progress.
Nuns gone wildNun's condom commercial dropped Nun reprimanded after wild dancingAnd, um, Bats 2?I always thought that sequels were warranted when there was actually a fanbase for the original. Does anyone remember how bad the first
Bats was slammed when it came out? It was like the
Gigli of horror. And this one is direct-to-video, so I’m sure it will be promising.
Where the HELL have you been?Um, sorry. I just had a hectic week last week, and was experiencing a bit of writer’s block. I know that doesn’t make my shortcomings any less painful for you, but it will have to do.
So what the HELL were you doing?I had a couple shows and wrote a bit on the novels and scripts. Oh, and
Law and Order SVU Season 5 came in from Netflix. So, as you can see, I was entirely too busy to talk to you. And actually, the only reason I’m writing now is to whine. I have a cold, which as you might imagine is a real treat when it’s 90 degrees outside. And my air conditioner is not working. So now, my apartment and my nasal passages are competing to see which can percolate the most humidity. I believe the victor is determined by which one makes my head explode first. Currently the left nostril is leading. Updates as warranted.
But, solace is still found….In Wonka candy.
I was having a bit of a Wonka candy fit last night. See, even though I am presumably female, I’m not all that into chocolate. When I eat candy, I prefer either the confectionary stylings of Just Born (who makes the Peeps and Mikes and Ikes….the best candy in the whole wide world) or Wonka, who makes the cool candy like Nerds, Laffy Taffy, Sweet Tarts, Bottlecaps, etc., etc. etc. Anyone who brings me Wonka candy…it doesn’t matter what kind, really…is automatically proclaimed to god status, and I listen to their every beckoning call and become their indentured servant for the rest of my natural life. Or at least I won’t tell them to go fuck themselves.
I’m not like that with chocolate. I don’t really care for milk chocolate unless peanut butter, crispy rice, or some kind of fruit filling is involved. The thought of eating a plain Hershey bar is nauseating to me. Dark chocolate even more so. When given the choice, I’ll always go for white chocolate over any of the other types. I suppose this makes me a white chocolate supremacist. I hope this does not mean I have to move to Montana.
So, as previously stated, I can completely resist any and all forms of chocolate.
Except for Wonka bars.
I have no idea what Mr. Wonka puts in his chocolate….it could be Oompa Loompa toe jam for all I know…but his candy bars are divine. So last night after the show at Backside, my Wonka candy fit moved into the point of no return. And Nerds, Bottlecaps, even the beloved Sweet Tarts -- none of them will do. It had to be the ever coveted (not to mention really hard to fucking find) Wonka bar.
So I left the aftershow early (this should give you some indication how bad this craving was. Alcohol usually beats out chocolate on The Jenn Food Chain). There is a grocery store next door to Backside. I staggered into the store in my best Ash at the end of
Evil Dead fashion (this was done completely for dramatic effect.) I saw the Wonka candy bar box in Aisle three. Its lilacness beckoned to me. Its golden edges gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. It may in fact have been encased in a halo with a serenade of cherubs singing. As I finally reached the beloved box, I reached up to glaze my fingers over the beloved chocolate wrapper. My mission was finally accomplished.
The box was empty.
Screaming the Darth Vader “NOOOOOOOO!” would not have been inappropriate.
I left the store a changed woman. Jaded, hardened, but changed. I staggered to my car contemplating why Mr. Wonka found it necessary to fuck me like a twelve-cent hooker. Needless to say, these questions remain painfully unanswered.
And then opportunity knocked on the door a second time. This time in the form of Blockbuster Video advertising “Three DVDs for $25.” It was 11:45. Blockbuster closed at 12:00. There wasn’t much time.
I entered the store, determined. Right at the get-go, I knew this was no easy task. Racks of craptastic-but-somehow-desirable previously viewed films taunted me, begging me to waste valuable time flipping through them. “Three for $25” they whispered, “You can’t resist that deal, motherfucker.” (oddly, I believe it was
Winn Dixie who called me a mother fucker. Bitch.)
In my weakened state, I managed to avoid their persuasive grasp (I attribute this to The Force as I was wearing R2D2 socks at the time). I made it to the Blockbuister candy stand, and (insert “Ta-da”-type climax music score here) there lay a whole end cap….a cornucopia, if you will….dedicated to the candymakers of Wonka. Movie theater boxes of Nerds, Runts, Gobstoppers, Bottlecaps adorned the shelves, and at the bottom, glimmering in the soft glow of the moonlight, was three jumbo-sized Wonka chocolate bars. As I was checking out (with a box of Runts, Gobstopprs, Bottlecaps, and Sweet Tarts as well), I could feel Mr. Wonka looking down from his chocolate factory in the sky, smiling (he was in the form of Johnny Depp, of course, because Johnny Depp is HOT). “Mission accomplished,” he said. (Actually he quoted
Babe by saying, “That’ll do pig, that’ll do.” I see no need to point that out.) And once again, peace was restored to my digestive track.
I’m sure there was a much less verbose way I could have said all that.
Decrease in movie ticket sales worries HollywoodIt really just surprises me that they are SHOCKED by this news. With such sure blockbusters such as
Herbie Fully Loaded and
Deuce Bigalow: European Gigalo, I can't imagine why they would be worried.
What Jenn is readingThe Crimson Petal and the White, which as far as I can determine is 800 pages about 18th century hookers. Just in case any of you had any doubts I was expanding my mind, you can now rest easy.
CNN Scrolls the funniest thingsSo I was watching Bill Maher on
Larry King Live last night, and I saw…or I’m almost sure I saw as I caught it in the middle of scrolling….the following text scroll across the bottom of the screen.
The study that suggested people who masturbated before age 12 became overweight adults was discovered to be unfounded.
Well thank God that was cleared up. Now if only we can get some sort of ruling on the correlation between glass dildos and Athlete's foot.
By the wayIf someone can either confirm or deny this is what I saw, that would be great. Because at the moment, I currently have little hope we’ll find a cure for cancer anytime soon.
Why yes, humanity has hit rock bottomMan lies about being an Oompa LoompaOopsiesThree wives discovered after man's surgeryAnd finally, a lesson in Words That Have No Business Being TogetherArizona Ostrich Rancher Loses Balloon SuitA Walk Around Jenn’s Abode
Since my body has decided for whatever reason that it was going to lose weight with or without my assistance, I have recently started to go for aerobic walks around my condo complex. Here are my observations from this new activity:
- Regardless what time I disembark on my walk, it will be the time of day when the entire condo complex is returning from work. Hence the Walk for Health turns into Game of Frogger to Avoid Death.
- Circuit training occurs inadvertently when one’s walks turn into a 50-Yard Dash to Get Away from Smelly Summer Dumpsters.
- My presence causes walkers ahead of me to fart. This is likely some sort of walker-specific defense shield.
- There are generally two types of condo complex walkers – Those with Strollers and Those Who Are Reenacting the Slow-Motion Plodding from Chariots of Fire. When it comes to sharing sidewalks, both groups should be treated as friends of Satan.
More observations forthcoming, I'm sure.
Hollywood elbows me hard in the boobsFirst it remakes all my favorite classic horror movies.
Then it's remaking
Hairspray by my favorite director, John Waters.
And now....it's fucking with the First Lady of comedy, Lucille Ball, by remaking
Yours, Mine, and Ours.
And....Rene Russo is playing Lucille Ball's part.
Fine....you win Hollywood. You hear that? That's me under my desk in a fetal position whimpering in defeat.
For Gene, King of Juxtaposed LinksThese headlines are currently one right after another on
Yahoo!I entitle this
, A Story Unfolding.Python found in the Back of a UPS truck Woman finds Snake in Post Office BoxAnd this one just becauseHumpty Dumpty stolen from homeNow, one would assume that the suspects' list for this crime would be fairly limited to high school pranksters, people who have a vendetta against the family, and all the king's horses and all the king's men. Unfortunately, this took place in Florida where the average person is 113 years old, there is no known vendetta against the guardians of Humpty Dumpty, and all the king's horses and all the king's men have assured us that they have recently changed to egg beaters in a cholesterol-preserving move. Therefore, there is only one alternative.
This was clearly a hate crime.
The obvious suspect would of course be the Hamburgler (he has been touchy since the infiltration of the Egg McMuffin....the McGriddle reportably threw him over the edge). We can only hope the expertise of The Cookie Crisp cop, Captain Crunch, and that prick cop from the
Frosty the Snowman cartoons will bring the famed egghead home safely.
"He was kidnapped," Fuller said. "We're waiting for a ransom demand."I'm assuming this would have to be paid in small, unmarked
PAAS color pellets.
And, I’m back.
Not that I have anything exciting to tell you, but
Andrea has emailed me saying that she is going through withdrawal from this blog. So this is for her. The rest of you just get to muddle through this crap.
A great shirt from T-Shirt Hell“125 out of 126 students say – Viva Aruba!”da Plane! da Plane!So I flew from Boston to Buffalo this weekend to visit my family because I need some new clean material for my act. My plane was delayed, so I got a slice of pizza and a bottled water. This cost me $10.00. I promptly reactivated my Ebay account in the oft chance my pizza crust showed the face of Jesus.
March of the Penguins – I saw this on the presumption that I would be incredibly bored with it in 15 minutes. This couldn’t be further from the truth. One has to remember that there is minimal backdrop and no humans in the entire film. And there is only so much breathtaking cinematography one can do with a continent completely encased in ice. With all that working against them, this is a fine film. Well worth your time, despite the fact that there is no penguin fuckage (admittedly, this may disappoint bestiality fans). And all that stuff about it being “too harsh for little ones”…bull crap. First of all, the death scenes….while sad…were glazed over so that they were “kid friendly.” Secondly, these people seem to hold some delusions that humans under the age of 17 have never ever seen a dead bird. Evidently, these reviewers serve tofurkey for Thanksgiving.
And in the NewsWhoopee cushion mistaken for a bombSome dude sews his lips shut Police thought they smelled a corpse….turns out to be big fungus Who here still thinks we’re the dominant species?
Da’ StudioTomorrow, I’m at
The Studio. And I’m going to be doing some newish stuff that seems to be working (read: I am having delusions of grandeur that it is comedy gold), so we’ll see how it goes in front of a real audience, and not just bull riders who believe humor is foreplay and comics who go up to the bar and order a Bucket o' Beer.
Blog VacationDue to circumstances beyond my control (most likely, supreme laziness), I’m taking off from blogging for the rest of this week. I’ll see you all Monday or Tuesday.
Just a quickie todaybut I'm sure some of you need to take some time out to register...
Slut RegistryBe back tomorrow with a fullish post.
My Latest Visit from the Fat FairySo I’ve lost weight. The thing is…I had no idea that I did. And when one is fat, one tends to notice crap like that. It’s a fair bit of weight too, because at the beginning of the summer I was not even able to fully pull up the pants I’m wearing right now. Today I just tried them on, because I’m out of laundry and being uncomfortable/embarrassed-by-pants-ass-seam-rippage is a much better alternative than the thought of actually washing 6+ loads of clothes. Especially on a Monday. Well, they fit perfectly. So, knowing my body as I do, I’m thinking about 10-15 pounds was lost in the last two months or so. And I had no freaking clue. Obviously, I’m thrilled about this change, but I wish I knew what the hell I did to cause it. I’m thinking it’s partly because I now park in an area where I have to walk 10 minutes uphill everyday. Or I have a tapeworm who's a particularly unstable emotional eater.
