Jul 9, 2012

It's Raining Men...

Howdy howdy. It's been awhile since I just rambled about something that's unrelated to work, so let's dig in, shall we? 

I wouldn't call myself a "movie person." Especially since as a child, I would rent the same movies over and over for fear of renting a movie that I wouldn't like, and it wouldn't have been a waste of money. My go-to's were Carpool, My Best Friend's Wedding, Selena and Clueless, masterpieces, obviously -- until Mom bought them, realizing we were spending too much cash at Blockbuster just to rent the same four movies over and over. Anyway, summer is always the season that I empty my pockets and hit up the theater to see movies the day they come out.

Going to all these movies, my inner critic comes out. But I'm a realist critic. I know that going into Magic Mike, Rock of Ages and Savages, I shouldn't expect an academy award winning speech from Channing Tatum, Julianne Hough or Blake Lively. That's half the fun of movies. You go to be entertained; to stop thinking about whatever was bothering you before you went in. If I'm going to Magic Mike, I'm going to this movie to hoot and holler and hopefully see a handful of sexy abs and a whole lotta chiseled butt. And that's exactly (and then some) what I got. So I can't understand the women who are all, "I was disappointed." 

Ladies, not sure if you know this, but any more exposure and it would have been soft-core porn. When they dig on the (lack of, poor) storyline, I have to wonder: what did you expect, exactly? This isn't an Aaron Sorkin movie. It's Channing Tatum. He put together a movie loosely based on his stripping days. Matthew McConaughey gets his thong ripped off. Joe Manganiello pumps his (prosthetic, for the movie's sake) penis to enlarge it before they all dance in glittery outfits to "It's Raining Men." I don't think there's too much room for seriousness here, people.

Same with Rock of Ages. It's a musical about classic rock. A MUSICAL. If you expected to hit up a movie that had any stitch of reality, I wouldn't recommend going to a movie where Tom Cruise is playing a rock star. If you take the movie for what it's worth -- fun music, dancing, blah blah then you'll enjoy it. If you go in expecting Alec Baldwin to give an Oscar-winning performance... you're going to end up pissed.

And Savages. I love drug cartel movies. I think it's because it's so far away from anything I've experienced in reality, it gets my juices flowing. I'm always thinking, "WHY DID YOU GET STARTED IN THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE!" But it's entertaining to say the least. Taylor Kitsch and Aaron Johnson are foxes, and regardless of what turmoil John Travolta is going through in his personal life, I love him as an actor. Salma Hayek is painstakingly gorgeous badass, but I almost vomited watching her slather on La Mer like butter. The cream is $140 for one ounce. ONE OUNCE! And Blake Lively hasn't been typecast or anything (ha)... but I hope one day she'll take on a role with more substance than "I'm a ho" or "I'm a the trophy to be won."

Speaking of hos... the harlots are out in full force this week since the ESPYs are this Wednesday in Los Angeles. Hoville is alive with the sound of murdered-out Bentleys rolling by and bottles poppin', since any athlete worth caring about from the past year will be in attendance. I mean if you think NBA All Star Week is bad, just imagine having every professional athlete from all sports: baseball, basketball, hockey, football, soccer, etc. -- in one central location. Ladies of Los Angeles, be sure not to wear your cleavage-bearing tees or short shorts this week or you *may* end up in a hotel room as another groupie ho. On a somewhat related note, I still want to hit up some parties so if you're looking to hookup a non-heathen with a passion for sports, set a sister up.

Lastly, is there a reason why people feel the need to go crazy on social media? This woman responded to a comment I made on the 4th about how I was worried a firework might set a tree on fire, and it all went downhill from there. The follower is a so-called "journalist," who I might have believed since she has several prestigious reporters following her, but I have to wonder if they're following her because she tweets like she's incoherently drunk. I'm not kidding. One minute I'm asking her to have a sense of humor and the next she's tweeting about she would call her attorney and file a defamation suit. 

I will have a whole other blog dedicated to defamation and how just because you claim someone is defaming you, doesn't mean it's a reality: I've never claimed my opinions were the truth, yet this woman barely scrapes 300 Twitter followers, and she thinks that someone like myself, someone with a measly 1,100 followers, stating an opinion (that being which I thought she was highly intoxicated, if not blackout drunk, based on the syntax of her tweets) would be defaming to her. It's laughable. The best part is that she thinks she's going to call up an attorney and threaten me with that is hilarious, and also proves that absolutely anyone will use the law as a threat in order to get what they want.

She's delusional, and I blocked her. I can shake most people off but this time... I needed to take serious measures. She's since protected her account because various followers of mine started wondering the same thing ("Is this woman drunk?") so I guess the moral of this story is a) don't respond to randoms on Twitter whom you don't know because they could end up driving you insane -- she responded to everything I said, unrelated to her, for about 24 hours straight (hence the blocking) and b) please try to construct reasonable, grammatically correct sentences on Twitter. It's a website meant to be clever. You have to carefully construct coherent thoughts. It's not a site where we revert back to 1999 text slang. (Hay, r u do-n nething 2nite?)

Lastly, there are some JUICY spoilers up on RealitySteve.com. And if you don't know what show I'm referring to, it's clearly The Bachelorette. Let's just say everything I thought was going to happen is apparently not... and I may just have to submit for The Bachelor next season. Yes. Me. The person who is vehemently against the show in the first place... this next season might just be the game-changer, folks.

Happy Monday! And stay tuned: hopefully I get involved some ESPY shenanery this Wednesday.

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