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I don’t know what the fuck they call it down here, but when Jamaican women hear the right song they start this spastic booty giggle thing that has had my dick hard for days. For the first time in my life I can say I am actually stoked when a Shaggy song comes on the radio.
I found some easy work this week as a body guard for a few of the celebrities that are accompanying the Hawaiian Tropic tour down here, as my eye heals from the wound I sustained a couple weeks ago. Good news for you is that I can see good enough to start doing my reviews again. Bad news for me is that Rosie O’Donnell punched me in the mouth last night for various comments I have made about her in the past. It’s not my fault she looks like a water balloon wrapped in masking tape when she puts on her bikini. If we hadn’t been in a public place with lots of witnesses, I swear to Jesus H. Mannigault that I would have choked that bitch with her girlfriend’s penis.
Oh shit, they just started playing Sean Paul, "Gimme The Light". That has to be the most joints I’ve ever seen lit at one time. All the ass-shaking thongs makes this almost better than a Thai brothel with a good donkey show. Now that I’m at full attention, let’s see if I can’t get my chicken jerked and bust out some reviews.
– Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! – Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby – Three Ears for well-rounded but average...like a white girl's ass – Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch – One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons. – An added testicle for shit that is in between.
I should've known the second I walked in to a movie named after a song by the Cure that there was no way I could walk away happy. Is it really a good sign for your movie when audiences start cheering for Napoleon Dynamite every time he appears on screen instead of laughing at the five jokes that were written for the film? Me not tink so, as they say on the islands. Isn’t it also a bad thing when a movie’s star, Reese “Twilight Titties” Witherspoon, really reminds me of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? There is some shitty “high concept” romantic comedy like this every single fucking year, and for some reason people still keep watching this crap. Fuck the love from beyond the grave thing. You want a “high concept” movie that I’ll go see? How ‘bout, after a car accident, Reese Witherspoon finds out that the afterlife has doomed her to a hell of dyking out on Scarlett “Love In An Elevator” Johannson and Wynona “I’d Love To” Ryder, until she realizes that the only way she can get into heaven is to either let Satan take her down the dirt road, or to shoot her way through 300 demons and angels with an M-60. Now that’s a good date movie compared to this sappy, five-joke tearjerker. If I’m gonna spend ten bucks to jerk something at the movies, it ain’t gonna be tears. Mark Ruffalo should be castrated with a high-tension rubber band for taking this part, especially after he had finally gained my respect for flopping around with Meg Ryan’s flab bags in In The Cut. This was an unforgivable backstep by the actor in my book, and can only be forgiven by a cameo on "Will and Grace", where he mercilessly slaps the shit out of each character until they bleed out from their rectums. Unless you are on a first date and haven’t been laid for two years, then skip the shit out of this turd.
You have to be fucking kidding me. Apparently if a butterfly sneezes in China it winds up in America as a movie that is 36 years past its time. Who the fuck is gonna wanna see a roller skating disco movie in 2005? This movie is about ten years late to even capitalize on the seventies nostalgia factor. Plus, how am I supposed to look at Lil' Bow Wow and think anything but, “I wonder how fast I could kill this pretentious prick with my bare hands?” I wonder if he got the name Lil' Bow Wow: does he like to take it up the ass doggy-style? This movie would lead me to believe the answer to that is a resounding yes. Only decent things in this movie are Nick Cannon and the soundtrack. But if that is all I get, I could just have easily put on a Chic record at home and jerked off to a freeze frame of Christina Milian in her undies in Love Don’t Cost a Thing.
The twist is that this is the exact same movie that has literally been made over a dozen times. This take on the oft-optioned Dickens tale might be a little darker since it was helmed by Roman Polanski, but the slight child rapist overtones and anti-Semitic themes don’t compensate for the fact that this story is still devoid of bare breasts, bawdy jokes, guns, cursing or anything that might make it watchable for two hours and ten minutes. Plus, it’s about a bunch of orphaned kids with thick accents. Ben Kingsley has been the mack as an actor ever since Gandhi, but if I’m gonna watch a movie about orphans, I’ll stick to Annie. At least then I can imagine how hot those girls grew up to be, and get a laugh out of hearing Jay Z in my head during "Hard Knock Life". Plus, Carol Burnett and Tim Curry got mad jokes, son. One day Polanski might make a good enough movie to erase the fact that he drugged and raped a 13-year old girl at Jack Nicholson’s house and fled to France before he was sentenced, but a twisted look at orphaned 13-year old boys ain’t the way to do it. I wonder if anyone has a bounty on his old ass for extradition back to the States? I got some extra time next week, so holler if you do.
If you are really concerned with plot, I recommend watching all of the Lord Of The Rings Trilogy back to back. If, however, you want to see a movie with lots of titties and guns that has the weakest plot since the second season finale of "Golden Girls", then I highly recommend this Skin-A-Max classic. It is amazing that Andy Sidaris, the father of late night bare boobs/big guns classics like Savage Beach and Hard Ticket To Hawaii, actually got his start working on "Monday Night Football", "Kojak" and "The Hardy Boys Mysteries". I’d say those things led to a solid foundation for making his classic flicks, but in reality what it took for Sidaris was half a script and enough money from his rich Texas buddies to get a couple of past-their-prime Penthouse Pets to whip out the milk mounds and have a few bucks left to blow up some 16-scale models. By the time Sidaris got around to making this movie, he had this formula down to a science. Not only did he cast Pets Julie K. Smith, Shae Marks, Tammy Parks, and mid-nineties Queen of B Julie Strain, he also wisely casted “pro” wrestler, Marcus “Buff” Bagwell as the Warrior. If you’re gonna have to have random man-meat in your flick as an excuse for chicks to get naked, you might as well have one with a slight familiarity factor. I’d tell you what the movie is about, but honestly, all you need to know is that for every one minute of dialogue that weakly advances the plot, there is two minutes of shit blowing up. For every two minutes of shit blowing up, there is four minutes worth of bare breast on the screen. And for every four minutes of bare breasts on the screen you are 30 seconds closer to needing another bottle of Jergens and some more Kleenex. If you are still reading this instead of filling up your Netflix cue with Andy Sidaris movies, then I highly recommend you go see Brokeback Mountain when it comes out, since that might be more your speed.
When they said someone was going to finally get into the hatch, I thought Matthew Fox was going spread Evangeline Lilly all over the island like butter on a hot griddlecake. To my dismay, all I got was a reject from MTV’s "That 70’s House" playing pong and flicking his flashlight. You gotta feel bad for anyone trapped in a hatch with a TRS 80 that can’t surf porn. Anyway, "Lost" has the right idea; give the viewers some of what they want and then create new mysteries. I just hope they are careful not to fall in to the trap that "Twin Peaks" and "Alias" did by changing the show so much overnight that no one cares about the world they were invested in for the entire previous season, though on "Lost" zombies or a backwards-talking, dancing midget might just be the thing to make the whole show make sense. My theory about "Lost", by the way, is that they are all in purgatory and this is a test of Science and Logic versus Faith and Belief to see who is going up or down the elevator. I can only pray to god that Evangeline is going down for all the right reasons.
If monkeys pooped on a stick and sold it as a Popsicle, it would make me feel about the same as I do for buying this record: very confused about what the fuck is going on. Lt. Shrapnel recommended "Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV, Volume 1: From Fear Through The Eyes of Madness" as the next great modern prog-rock record, but this sure as fuck ain’t Yes or King Crimson. In fact, this is more like King Diamond meets Mudvayne with more auto-tune on the lead vocals than an Ashlee Simpson song. Mars Volta may defy logic with their prog sound, but this band defies common sense with lyrics about parents eating their kids or something and songs that force you to take more left turns than all those one-way streets in downtown Columbus, OH. Some of the heavy riffs are growing on me, but it’s a bad sign in my book when the songs sound like they’d be more exciting with Eminem rapping over them than the chorus of robot-y emo-core whining they currently contain. I think I’m gonna go crack a few Pabsts, dig up my copies of Abigail and Islands, and smoke some medicinal marijuana. Maybe that’ll put me in a better place for listening to this Todd McFarlane-esque comic book of a record.
…Two days have passed. Last night I brought this super-fly Jamaican chick back to the room. Not only did she bring a bag of bamma the size of my head, but she kept wanting to fuck to Shabba Ranks songs. I knew the way her ass was moving that I was fighting a losing battle, so instead I popped in the Coheed and Cambria record and did her straight-up like any smart man whose dick was about to be broken in half would do. Anyway, a lot of cush and a truckload of ass make the second listening of this record a much better time.
Besides a whole lot of late-night scrumping on the Korean chick and that lottery guy hoarding all the boar bacon, what do you think is really happening on "Lost"? And if you say it’s just the next "Gilligan’s Island", I will dig up Bob Denver’s skinny ass from the grave and tea bag you with his rigamortised balls.
agree with your take (thats the only way the old bastard could walk again), although i wish the big 'secret' in the jungle would be fuckin t-rex or raptor or something to corn it up a bit..
i liked your review on the new co-ca album.. there can only be one geddy lee and claudio certainly is not him.
chris c
gilligans island
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Posted: 9/23/2005 10:57:25 AM
I'd say 90% of this artival is on point but i do have to say, Lost is Gilligan's Island on steroids.
lisa
lost
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Posted: 9/23/2005 11:32:24 AM
Lost is the best tv show ever. It has everything. If it pulls a Twin Peaks, it was Bob! surprise, or a Dallas, it was just a dream!, I will go on a shooting spree in a kindergarten.
Christine
Lost
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Posted: 9/23/2005 1:41:54 PM
JJ Abrams confirmed in entertainment Weekly that the cast is not dead nor in purgatory.
I think it is like the cast has been saying: They are being punished for past errors and the Island has called them there. I also think Hurley's numbers are going to have a lot to do with this season. I think each of the numbers will have an effect on each character. Kate already has a connection with the #23.
I also think that there is going to be a test between good and evil. Locke believes so strongly in the power of the Island because it allowed him to walk, that he is too blind to see that it is evil. He may lead others against Jack and the goody goodies.
Side Note: My goosebumps were like Everest when the guy in the hatch started talking. I knew it was gonna be the guy from the stadium. I am still freaked out.
Man, this is getting long . . .
Christine
Devastated
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Posted: 9/23/2005 3:01:04 PM
I come back after about two and half hours and no one had anything to say about my theories??? No one even made fun of it or me???
Did every office in the country close except mine??
Smokey Cloud
Lost...
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Posted: 9/23/2005 3:34:30 PM
Was anyone else hoping that jerry bruckheimer would show up due to desmond's training for a "race around the world"? now that woulda been a twist.
Mike
Just a Guy
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Posted: 9/23/2005 3:42:25 PM
Holy man, could somebody please help me! My DVR went tits up this week and I missed the season opener. If anyone has a copy of it on VHS (Betamax fine too) I'd glady compensate them for their time.
Teaser
Christine
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Posted: 9/23/2005 4:49:10 PM
So it's a teasing you want huh?
Your breath stinks
J-Rock
Well
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Posted: 9/23/2005 6:58:57 PM
Lost is an alien experiment. That is the only way to explain invisible dinosaurs that run around in a cloud of smoke or the fact that "the others" signal fire had no footprints leading to it. The hatch has been a giant red herring the whole time.
J-Rock
PS
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Posted: 9/23/2005 7:01:17 PM
It's not that no one wanted to make fun of you, christine... It's that your theories were actually pretty decent and we are now all scared of you because of your psycho obsession with lost. I bet your panties got wet as soon as mathew fox appeared on screen last night.
Use the form at the right to log in for more options.
– Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! 
– Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby
– Three Ears for well-rounded but average...like a white girl's ass
– Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch
– One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons.
– An added testicle for shit that is in between.
I should've known the second I walked in to a movie named after a song by the Cure that there was no way I could walk away happy. Is it really a good sign for your movie when audiences start cheering for Napoleon Dynamite every time he appears on screen instead of laughing at the five jokes that were written for the film? Me not tink so, as they say on the islands. Isn’t it also a bad thing when a movie’s star, Reese “Twilight Titties” Witherspoon, really reminds me of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? There is some shitty “high concept” romantic comedy like this every single fucking year, and for some reason people still keep watching this crap. Fuck the love from beyond the grave thing. You want a “high concept” movie that I’ll go see? How ‘bout, after a car accident, Reese Witherspoon finds out that the afterlife has doomed her to a hell of dyking out on Scarlett “Love In An Elevator” Johannson and Wynona “I’d Love To” Ryder, until she realizes that the only way she can get into heaven is to either let Satan take her down the dirt road, or to shoot her way through 300 demons and angels with an M-60. Now that’s a good date movie compared to this sappy, five-joke tearjerker. If I’m gonna spend ten bucks to jerk something at the movies, it ain’t gonna be tears. Mark Ruffalo should be castrated with a high-tension rubber band for taking this part, especially after he had finally gained my respect for flopping around with Meg Ryan’s flab bags in In The Cut. This was an unforgivable backstep by the actor in my book, and can only be forgiven by a cameo on "Will and Grace", where he mercilessly slaps the shit out of each character until they bleed out from their rectums. Unless you are on a first date and haven’t been laid for two years, then skip the shit out of this turd.
You have to be fucking kidding me. Apparently if a butterfly sneezes in China it winds up in America as a movie that is 36 years past its time. Who the fuck is gonna wanna see a roller skating disco movie in 2005? This movie is about ten years late to even capitalize on the seventies nostalgia factor. Plus, how am I supposed to look at Lil' Bow Wow and think anything but, “I wonder how fast I could kill this pretentious prick with my bare hands?” I wonder if he got the name Lil' Bow Wow: does he like to take it up the ass doggy-style? This movie would lead me to believe the answer to that is a resounding yes. Only decent things in this movie are Nick Cannon and the soundtrack. But if that is all I get, I could just have easily put on a Chic record at home and jerked off to a freeze frame of Christina Milian in her undies in Love Don’t Cost a Thing.
The twist is that this is the exact same movie that has literally been made over a dozen times. This take on the oft-optioned Dickens tale might be a little darker since it was helmed by Roman Polanski, but the slight child rapist overtones and anti-Semitic themes don’t compensate for the fact that this story is still devoid of bare breasts, bawdy jokes, guns, cursing or anything that might make it watchable for two hours and ten minutes. Plus, it’s about a bunch of orphaned kids with thick accents. Ben Kingsley has been the mack as an actor ever since Gandhi, but if I’m gonna watch a movie about orphans, I’ll stick to Annie. At least then I can imagine how hot those girls grew up to be, and get a laugh out of hearing Jay Z in my head during "Hard Knock Life". Plus, Carol Burnett and Tim Curry got mad jokes, son. One day Polanski might make a good enough movie to erase the fact that he drugged and raped a 13-year old girl at Jack Nicholson’s house and fled to France before he was sentenced, but a twisted look at orphaned 13-year old boys ain’t the way to do it. I wonder if anyone has a bounty on his old ass for extradition back to the States? I got some extra time next week, so holler if you do.
If you are really concerned with plot, I recommend watching all of the Lord Of The Rings Trilogy back to back. If, however, you want to see a movie with lots of titties and guns that has the weakest plot since the second season finale of "Golden Girls", then I highly recommend this Skin-A-Max classic. It is amazing that Andy Sidaris, the father of late night bare boobs/big guns classics like Savage Beach and Hard Ticket To Hawaii, actually got his start working on "Monday Night Football", "Kojak" and "The Hardy Boys Mysteries". I’d say those things led to a solid foundation for making his classic flicks, but in reality what it took for Sidaris was half a script and enough money from his rich Texas buddies to get a couple of past-their-prime Penthouse Pets to whip out the milk mounds and have a few bucks left to blow up some 16-scale models. By the time Sidaris got around to making this movie, he had this formula down to a science. Not only did he cast Pets Julie K. Smith, Shae Marks, Tammy Parks, and mid-nineties Queen of B Julie Strain, he also wisely casted “pro” wrestler, Marcus “Buff” Bagwell as the Warrior. If you’re gonna have to have random man-meat in your flick as an excuse for chicks to get naked, you might as well have one with a slight familiarity factor. I’d tell you what the movie is about, but honestly, all you need to know is that for every one minute of dialogue that weakly advances the plot, there is two minutes of shit blowing up. For every two minutes of shit blowing up, there is four minutes worth of bare breast on the screen. And for every four minutes of bare breasts on the screen you are 30 seconds closer to needing another bottle of Jergens and some more Kleenex. If you are still reading this instead of filling up your Netflix cue with Andy Sidaris movies, then I highly recommend you go see Brokeback Mountain when it comes out, since that might be more your speed.
When they said someone was going to finally get into the hatch, I thought Matthew Fox was going spread Evangeline Lilly all over the island like butter on a hot griddlecake. To my dismay, all I got was a reject from MTV’s "That 70’s House" playing pong and flicking his flashlight. You gotta feel bad for anyone trapped in a hatch with a TRS 80 that can’t surf porn. Anyway, "Lost" has the right idea; give the viewers some of what they want and then create new mysteries. I just hope they are careful not to fall in to the trap that "Twin Peaks" and "Alias" did by changing the show so much overnight that no one cares about the world they were invested in for the entire previous season, though on "Lost" zombies or a backwards-talking, dancing midget might just be the thing to make the whole show make sense. My theory about "Lost", by the way, is that they are all in purgatory and this is a test of Science and Logic versus Faith and Belief to see who is going up or down the elevator. I can only pray to god that Evangeline is going down for all the right reasons.
If monkeys pooped on a stick and sold it as a Popsicle, it would make me feel about the same as I do for buying this record: very confused about what the fuck is going on. Lt. Shrapnel recommended "Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV, Volume 1: From Fear Through The Eyes of Madness" as the next great modern prog-rock record, but this sure as fuck ain’t Yes or King Crimson. In fact, this is more like King Diamond meets Mudvayne with more auto-tune on the lead vocals than an Ashlee Simpson song. Mars Volta may defy logic with their prog sound, but this band defies common sense with lyrics about parents eating their kids or something and songs that force you to take more left turns than all those one-way streets in downtown Columbus, OH. Some of the heavy riffs are growing on me, but it’s a bad sign in my book when the songs sound like they’d be more exciting with Eminem rapping over them than the chorus of robot-y emo-core whining they currently contain. I think I’m gonna go crack a few Pabsts, dig up my copies of Abigail and Islands, and smoke some medicinal marijuana. Maybe that’ll put me in a better place for listening to this Todd McFarlane-esque comic book of a record.
Besides a whole lot of late-night scrumping on the Korean chick and that lottery guy hoarding all the boar bacon, what do you think is really happening on "Lost"? And if you say it’s just the next "Gilligan’s Island", I will dig up Bob Denver’s skinny ass from the grave and tea bag you with his rigamortised balls.
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