wojr - words, occasionally sentences
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
The Nazi Pope vs. Inmate #9818783 (or Vote for Today's Favorite Headline)
Now, I’m paraphrasing myself here, but news headlines can be peculiar things. And you don’t even need to take the time to closely examine them.
Take this article at TV Week, which just tickles my secular funny bone:
Luckily, I then stumbled upon this lovely headline on eonline.com:
However, the article is referring to computer virus and not venereal diseases:
Some guy has a job that involves finding how likely it is to get a computer virus when searching for the phrase "eating spiders while sleep"? Kinda sad. True, it’s not as thankless a job as waiting tables at the Red Lobster, but there has got to be better ways to earn your money.
The survey does explain some of the more wacky search phrases that led people to my site. Like "girls in cocaine", "massive bowel movement", or "Paris Hilton Dead Pool." And those are just for June.
I do wonder if Paris's current stay in jail will make her more or less associated with computer-based hazards. Not that I’m making fun of Paris'’s stay in jail. Everyone else is doing that and no one will reach the heights of Sarah Silverman's slam.
Bronc would so let Paris Hilton go down on him.
wojr
Edited: If you want you can write Ms. Hilton in prison, you can do so at the following address:
Paris Hilton, #9818783
PO BOX 86164
Terminal Annex
Los Angeles, CA 90086-0164
wojr
Now, I’m paraphrasing myself here, but news headlines can be peculiar things. And you don’t even need to take the time to closely examine them.
Take this article at TV Week, which just tickles my secular funny bone:
Pope To Be Named NBC Studio Head, Sources SayOf course, the actual story is about a Katherine Pope and not my boy, Papal Benny. So, all the gullible Catholics (and atheist fans of the Peacock) can relax. The rebound pope is staying in his Italian crib. However, given that Ms. Pope is only a few months older than myself, any chuckles found from the headline were overcome by my cries of rage and jealousy.
Luckily, I then stumbled upon this lovely headline on eonline.com:
Nude Britney More Infectious Than Nude ParisGiven Britney’s propensity to walk barefoot in public bathrooms as well as her marriage to Senor Federline, this should surprise no one.
However, the article is referring to computer virus and not venereal diseases:
Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are more likely to give you a virus than a nude Paris Hilton, a new study finds."Britney Spears nude" ranked higher than "free porn"? Interesting.
The State of Search Engine Safety report, released Monday by McAfee's SiteAdvisor group, evaluates the risks associated with approximately 2,300 of the most popular search terms based on the sites they return.
According to the study, conducting an online search for Suri's parents returns a slightly higher percentage of sites bundled with spyware and other malicious code than a search for the hotel heiress in her birthday suit.
Determined to be far more hazardous than searching for Cruise, Holmes or Hilton was scanning the World Wide Web for "Britney Spears nude," a search term that ranked above "free porn" in terms of the risky results it returned.
Less predictably, searching for a (presumably clothed) Lil' Wayne proved sketchier than hunting down either a nude Pamela Anderson or a nude Carmen Electra, while a search for Nicole Richie was determined to be more dangerous than the term "eating spiders while asleep"
Mark Maxwell, a senior product manager for SiteAdvisor, said the number of risky sites turned up by a search for a given star is not always a factor of their public profile.
"It's not necessarily an attribute of the celebrities themselves," Maxwell told E! Online.
He pointed out that typing "Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston" into a search engine returned a significantly higher percentage of undesirable results than a search for the actor and his current flame, Angelina Jolie.
"Are Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston truly riskier than Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie as people? No," Maxwell said.
Some guy has a job that involves finding how likely it is to get a computer virus when searching for the phrase "eating spiders while sleep"? Kinda sad. True, it’s not as thankless a job as waiting tables at the Red Lobster, but there has got to be better ways to earn your money.
The survey does explain some of the more wacky search phrases that led people to my site. Like "girls in cocaine", "massive bowel movement", or "Paris Hilton Dead Pool." And those are just for June.
I do wonder if Paris's current stay in jail will make her more or less associated with computer-based hazards. Not that I’m making fun of Paris'’s stay in jail. Everyone else is doing that and no one will reach the heights of Sarah Silverman's slam.
Bronc would so let Paris Hilton go down on him.
wojr
Edited: If you want you can write Ms. Hilton in prison, you can do so at the following address:
Paris Hilton, #9818783
PO BOX 86164
Terminal Annex
Los Angeles, CA 90086-0164
wojr
Labels: Bronc, Crackers, DeadPool, Hollywood, Porn, Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores, Youtube
Monday, June 04, 2007
"I'm a realist, I like to see real shit going down"
Just putting this deleted scene from Knocked Up here because Broncatello is too lazy to search youtube for it.
Bronc would so let Jake Gyllenhaal go down on him.
wojr
Just putting this deleted scene from Knocked Up here because Broncatello is too lazy to search youtube for it.
Bronc would so let Jake Gyllenhaal go down on him.
wojr
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Steak, Eggs, Tierney & Gold!
This week, the LA Weekly ran this great article entitled "I Ain't Working Unless I Get Steak 'n' Eggs!" about the late Lawrence Tierney. Most of you, like myself, know him as Joe Cabot from Reservoir Dogs - The gruff old guy that forced Steve Buscemi to be Mr. Pink. “Cause you're a faggot, ok?”
The article is basically two of his drinking cohorts recounting tales of Tierney’s tough guy status and frequent benders. You can read the article here.
If you’re too lazy to click that link, then just be sure to read this excerpt:
wojr
This week, the LA Weekly ran this great article entitled "I Ain't Working Unless I Get Steak 'n' Eggs!" about the late Lawrence Tierney. Most of you, like myself, know him as Joe Cabot from Reservoir Dogs - The gruff old guy that forced Steve Buscemi to be Mr. Pink. “Cause you're a faggot, ok?”
The article is basically two of his drinking cohorts recounting tales of Tierney’s tough guy status and frequent benders. You can read the article here.
If you’re too lazy to click that link, then just be sure to read this excerpt:
One day, I was walking along [New York’s] Upper West Side, on Columbus Avenue, and there was this old, old Irish bar, like something out of a film. All the guys in there were Larry Tierney’s age and talking exactly like him. I was laughing to myself, and after a couple of cocktails, I said to one of these guys, “You know, you really remind me of an acquaintance on the West Coast, the way you talk. His name’s Larry Tierney.”I’m telling you now, I’m going to write a script one day and that is the opening scene. I don’t care if it’s outright theft. I'll pay someone off for the rights. That is gold, pure unadulterated gold.
And the guy goes, “Oh, Larry Tierney! He used to come in here. One time, he was sitting right where you are now and the cops came up to the door and they said, “Send Tierney out here!”
They were scared to come in. For an hour, Tierney wouldn’t come out — “Screw you, I’m not coming out!” Finally, they all convinced him that sooner or later he was going to have go out. So he opened the door, stepped out on the sidewalk, and the cops beat the living shit out of him. He took his lumps.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Intoxication
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Because It's Not Always About Me (Even Though It Should Be)
Been meaning to give this a "shout out" for a while now.
(click on pic for larger version)
My friend from Villanova, Chris Cashman, wrote and directed an independent film called Carts.
He's still in the post-production phase, but you lucky people can go check out the website for the film, www.insamwetrust.com. Be sure to bookmark it as more web content is sure to be coming.
For the myspace folks, there is a myspace page, myspace.com/cartsmovie. So, go and up your friend count by one.
For the people without computers, there is nothing for you guys. I would apologize, but I doubt that you would even be reading this.
wojr
Been meaning to give this a "shout out" for a while now.
(click on pic for larger version)My friend from Villanova, Chris Cashman, wrote and directed an independent film called Carts.
He's still in the post-production phase, but you lucky people can go check out the website for the film, www.insamwetrust.com. Be sure to bookmark it as more web content is sure to be coming.
For the myspace folks, there is a myspace page, myspace.com/cartsmovie. So, go and up your friend count by one.
For the people without computers, there is nothing for you guys. I would apologize, but I doubt that you would even be reading this.
wojr
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
wojr Has A Saltine Ass (Or This Would Never Happen to Diddy’s Mom)
Found on cnn.com:
But occasionally we do need to point out the obvious:
The place is called CRACKER Barrel.
I’m not white enough for the Cracker Barrel and my ass is the color of Elmer’s glue.
I thought to myself, why would an intelligent black woman with a little coin in her pocket want to eat at the Cracker Barrel? Has the woman even seen her son’s stand-up?
The cynic in me thinks there is more to the story than what's in that article.
To be continued in The Case of Cracker Ass Cracker Barrel Conspiracy.
wojr
Found on cnn.com:
Chris Rock's mom: Cracker Barrel discriminatedwojr.com would never condone acts of discrimination that aren’t based on taste or intelligence. This is why wojr.com discriminates against racists.
CHARLESTON, South Carolina (AP) -- Rose Rock, the mother of comedian Chris Rock, claims she was racially discriminated against when she was seated but ignored for a half hour at a Cracker Barrel restaurant along the South Carolina coast.
Rock said Tuesday she planned to sue the Lebanon, Tennessee-based company. A Cracker Barrel spokeswoman said the restaurant chain was investigating and taking the complaint "very seriously."
Cracker Barrel has in the past faced numerous lawsuits and a federal inquiry over complaints of refusing to serve black customers, discriminating against minority workers and firing gay employees. The company has taken steps to rebuild its folksy image and reach out to minorities.
But occasionally we do need to point out the obvious:
The place is called CRACKER Barrel.
I’m not white enough for the Cracker Barrel and my ass is the color of Elmer’s glue.
I thought to myself, why would an intelligent black woman with a little coin in her pocket want to eat at the Cracker Barrel? Has the woman even seen her son’s stand-up?
Whenever an old black man sees an old white man, the old black man always kisses the old white man's ass.But then I read this portion of the article:
''How you doing, sir? Pleased to meet you. Whatever I can get you, you let me know.''
As soon as the white man gets out of sight, he's like:
''Cracker-ass cracker! I'll put my foot in the crack of your ass, cracker-ass cracker! I wish that cracker would've said some shit to me, saltine-assed, motherfucking cracker! Cracker, kiss my ass, you fucking cracker!''
The white man comes back.
''Howdy, sir?''
The Rev. Al Sharpton will join Rock on Wednesday in South Carolina to announce that Sharpton's Action Network will finance the planned lawsuit.So, I thought to myself, one, if Mrs. Rock is so insulted why can't she get her son, Chris, to pony up some of his Everybody Loves Chris money for the lawsuit and, two, doesn't the “Sharpton’s Action Network” sound like a great idea for a TV show? (Maybe it can be sponsored by Cracker Barrel.)
"I'm getting reports from all over the country about Cracker Barrel," Sharpton said from New York on Tuesday.
The cynic in me thinks there is more to the story than what's in that article.
To be continued in The Case of Cracker Ass Cracker Barrel Conspiracy.
wojr
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Further Proof that Lawyers Are Akin to Vampires
I really wasn’t feeling well this weekend. Not really sick, just a general malaise. Thus, my ass was firmly planted on my couch as I caught up with my Tivo and DVDs (both purchased and Netflixed).
During the massive media digestion, my normal disgust with legal warnings reached near epic proportions. Let me walk you through it.
First up, the FBI and/or Interpol warnings. They’ve been on every DVD or VHS I’ve ever watched. I think that’s true for everyone else in this country. Obviously, it’s doing a bang-up job combating video piracy. That was sarcasm. In terms of crime deterrence, that warning isn’t even a speed bump. It’s so worthless that some companies have added commercials dissuading acts of piracy. Why these ads look like they were shot in 1986 with a budget of twenty dollars is beyond me. Just like understanding why the ads lack the presence of any minorities. Are only white folk pirates?
The anti-crime legal warning is then followed, when applicable, by the company’s disclaimer that the views expressed on any commentaries are not the views of the parent company, their subsidiaries, any affiliates, the Tijuana whore that gave their marketing department the Clap or even Whistler’s mother. Good thing that’s there given the recent rash of commentary-based lawsuits. I mean, if Shannon Doherty hasn’t sued anyone based on crappy things said about her in commentaries, I think we’re safe.
The most sadistic part of this process is the film companies’ unwillingness to allow the consumer to fast forward through these parts. No, you need to wait long enough for even the most inbred of hillbillies to be able to read these legal statements. Actually, let me that back. I don’t want to get sued by an inbred individual for inferring that they read slower than those of us spawned by people lacking close genetic ties. I’m sure they read just fine despite any genetic deformities. Just like I’m sure only white people steal.
But I digress...
The entertainment industry has a long history of litigation, so the input of their legal counsel probably holds great weight – definitely more than some cranky white guy that spent most of his weekend on his couch. Given that track record of litigious behavior, the following news item seemed apropos to include here.
Found on cnn.com:
Now, youtube has been under legal fire for copyright infringement and as Warren Ellis hypothesizes on his site:
Enjoy it while it lasts – before the vampire lawyers swoop down and suck the life of it. Faster than a Tijuana whore can snort up 40 tons of cocaine.
wojr
I really wasn’t feeling well this weekend. Not really sick, just a general malaise. Thus, my ass was firmly planted on my couch as I caught up with my Tivo and DVDs (both purchased and Netflixed).
During the massive media digestion, my normal disgust with legal warnings reached near epic proportions. Let me walk you through it.
First up, the FBI and/or Interpol warnings. They’ve been on every DVD or VHS I’ve ever watched. I think that’s true for everyone else in this country. Obviously, it’s doing a bang-up job combating video piracy. That was sarcasm. In terms of crime deterrence, that warning isn’t even a speed bump. It’s so worthless that some companies have added commercials dissuading acts of piracy. Why these ads look like they were shot in 1986 with a budget of twenty dollars is beyond me. Just like understanding why the ads lack the presence of any minorities. Are only white folk pirates?
The anti-crime legal warning is then followed, when applicable, by the company’s disclaimer that the views expressed on any commentaries are not the views of the parent company, their subsidiaries, any affiliates, the Tijuana whore that gave their marketing department the Clap or even Whistler’s mother. Good thing that’s there given the recent rash of commentary-based lawsuits. I mean, if Shannon Doherty hasn’t sued anyone based on crappy things said about her in commentaries, I think we’re safe.
The most sadistic part of this process is the film companies’ unwillingness to allow the consumer to fast forward through these parts. No, you need to wait long enough for even the most inbred of hillbillies to be able to read these legal statements. Actually, let me that back. I don’t want to get sued by an inbred individual for inferring that they read slower than those of us spawned by people lacking close genetic ties. I’m sure they read just fine despite any genetic deformities. Just like I’m sure only white people steal.
But I digress...
The entertainment industry has a long history of litigation, so the input of their legal counsel probably holds great weight – definitely more than some cranky white guy that spent most of his weekend on his couch. Given that track record of litigious behavior, the following news item seemed apropos to include here.
Found on cnn.com:
SAN FRANCISCO (AP) -- Internet search leader Google is snapping up YouTube for $1.65 billion, brushing aside copyright concerns to seize a starring role in the online video revolution.I recall reading an article in Wired from earlier this year describing youtube founders, Steven Chen and Chad Hurley, making the rounds at some tech brouhaha. They were refusing to discuss any offers for their company under a billion dollars. Look at what one plug from Dane Cook can do for your asking price.
The all-stock deal announced Monday unites one of the Internet's marquee companies with one of its rapidly rising stars. It came just a few hours after YouTube unveiled three separate agreements with media companies to counter the threat of copyright-infringement lawsuits.
The price makes YouTube Inc., a still-unprofitable startup, by far the most expensive purchase made by Google during its eight-year history. Last year, Google spent $130.5 million buying a total of 15 small companies.
Although some cynics have questioned YouTube's staying power, Google is betting that the popular video-sharing site will provide it an increasingly lucrative marketing hub as more viewers and advertisers migrate from television to the Internet.
Now, youtube has been under legal fire for copyright infringement and as Warren Ellis hypothesizes on his site:
[N]ow it’s been valued at 1.65 BILLION dollars. If you don’t think everyone and their wife is now going to start suing Google for illegally broadcasting copyrighted material, you’re insane. You’re also insane if you think the companies who weren’t somehow placated by YouTube into not destroying them a few months ago didn’t already have suits prepared and in the drawer waiting for the exact second this was announced.I like youtube. They don’t make me watch legal disclaimers before their videos. If they did, I bet they would let me fast forward through them with relative ease. No need to press stop-stop-menu to get where I need to go. Plus, they have Dave Chappelle singing the theme song from Different Strokes.
At which point they get Napstered: just papered into oblivion by legal action.
1.65 billion American dollars, for some perspective, buys around forty tons of cocaine. Which may, in the long run, prove to be a better investment.
Enjoy it while it lasts – before the vampire lawyers swoop down and suck the life of it. Faster than a Tijuana whore can snort up 40 tons of cocaine.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, News, Snide Remarks, Youtube
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Which Hole Does This One Go In?
Following last week’s butt plug modeled after George Dubya, we know have a product that is less disturbing but should inspire greater disdain.
The Dashboard Mohammed!
This comes mere days after I read the following article on news.yahoo.com (via silentbobspeaks.com):
"I give you... The Buddy Christ. Now that's not the sanctioned term we're using for the symbol, just something we've been kicking around the office, but look at it. Doesn't it... pop? Buddy Christ..."
The Shiite’s don’t like a kindler, gentler Christ – One that just pops? One that just cries out to be on your dashboard?
Something tells me they’ll just hate the Dashboard Mohammed.
Coming to a jihad near you!
wojr
Following last week’s butt plug modeled after George Dubya, we know have a product that is less disturbing but should inspire greater disdain.
The Dashboard Mohammed!
It's pretty simple, really. The Dashboard Mohammed is nothing more than an attempt at a clever play on the Dashboard Jesus. It's a bobble head that can be placed on the dashboard of your car, your monitor at work, in your shower, anywhere you need spiritual uplifting and guidance.Allah help us if someone’s pooper needs uplifting. That flower/lit fuse does not look too pleasing.
This comes mere days after I read the following article on news.yahoo.com (via silentbobspeaks.com):
BAGHDAD (AFP) - Iraqi Shiite residents of Baghdad's Sadr City have expressed anger on over [sic] a picture of a grinning Jesus they mistook for a Shiite holy figure that appeared in the area after a joint US-Iraqi operation.God, I loved Kevin Smith’s script for Dogma.
Residents found a picture of "Buddy Jesus" from the 1999 film "Dogma" posted in the streets, accompanied by a badly photocopied pamphlet bearing a crude approximation of a US military crest and outlining a US "plan" to subjugate the neighborhood.
"That picture abuses our Imam Mahdi and his holy character, and mocks our sacred figures," said resident Abu Riyam Sunday, apparently mistaking the satirical movie still of Jesus for one of Shiite Islam's historical imams, whose images adopt a Jesus-like iconography.
"I give you... The Buddy Christ. Now that's not the sanctioned term we're using for the symbol, just something we've been kicking around the office, but look at it. Doesn't it... pop? Buddy Christ..."
The Shiite’s don’t like a kindler, gentler Christ – One that just pops? One that just cries out to be on your dashboard?
Something tells me they’ll just hate the Dashboard Mohammed.
Coming to a jihad near you!
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, News, Religion, Snide Remarks
Friday, September 29, 2006
Monday Morning Quarterbacks and Sunday Morning Drinking Games
Somehow, I’ve made my way far enough through my Tivo to catch the second episode of Studio 60. (I’m forever placing the clumsy “On the Sunset Strip” portion of the title in the implicit category.)
Last week, I recommended the pilot to the dozens of readers of this blog. Even though Studio 60’s pilot still stands as the best pilot episode I’ve seen for this Fall season (Full disclosure: I’ve yet to watch the pilots for 30 Rock or The Nine. If anyone wants to send them my way, drop me an email.), I found myself enjoying the second episode more (and I wasn’t yet aware of the Studio 60 Drinking Game). Now with all nice things I say, there is a “but” coming. It’s a flaw. I can never leave well enough alone. However, let’s cover the good points first.
“The Cold Open” does not share in the pilot episode’s burden of massive exposition. The audience now understands the hierarchy of the players and the major conflict facing all of them. The second episode gets to explore the characters more closely and strengthens the elements that I enjoyed in the pilot. Sorkin’s dialogue continues to impress. Matthew Perry, Amanda Peet and Steven Weber continue to shine. (By the way, Steven Weber? The other guy from Wings is kicking ass? Who’d a-thunk?) They manage to clearly define Perry’s character, Matt Albie, as a separate entity from Chandler Bing. Plus, there is a massive Pirates of Penzance reference.
Now, here come the buts...
First off, while Perry’s role is clearly differentiated from his previous popular character, Bradley Whitford still feels like he’s playing Josh Lyman from The West Wing. Since Sorkin never wrote for Friends, it is easy to see how this can occur to one lead and not the other.
While I like the character of Josh Lyman very much, I’m not interested in watching a retread. The character of Danny Tripp needs to stand on his own. I have a notion that Sorkin might use Tripp’s sexual preference as a way to distinguish the character. While there is nothing wrong with that in the “nothing wrong with that” way, if I can predict such a turn coming, then it’s by definition predictable.
“The Cold Open” gives us more exposure to the cast of the show within the show and I’m slightly underwhelmed. First off, they all seem rather passive for a troupe of performers with the exception of the jilted lover/branded catholic, Sarah Paulson. I’ve liked Paulson in other roles, but her character here is rather distracting. Plus, as Ken Levine points out in his blog, “they keep talking about how unbelievably talented” her character is, but fail to offer up actual proof.
However, my major complaint about the episode is the storyline’s acknowledgement of Lorne Michaels and his Saturday Night Live. I’d wager due to pressure from NBC, Sorkin makes clear that this is not SNL. Having Studio 60’s fictitious show come about in the 80s, broadcast on Friday nights and shoot in Los Angeles was not enough, they had to explicitly clarify that this is not SNL, which has its season premiere this Saturday night.
Having that distinction stated like that came off as back-pedaling to me. The pilot episode condemned the current state of TV, especially their fictitious effigy of NBC’s Saturday Night stalwart – a stalwart that, honestly, needed the condemnation.
Now, I still watch SNL. I don’t know if many of my friends still do. Every Sunday morning with my breakfast and paper, thanks to my trusty Tivo, I go through the episode. Truthfully, I fast forward through most of it. The repeated concepts that weren’t funny the first time. I’m looking at you, Carol. The parody commercials that they’ve repeated way too many times. Taco Town. The sketches that just do not end. None of them memorable.
Why do I do that? Because when they get it, when they make me laugh, I’m their bitch. Unfortunately, I rarely have to play that role.
Maybe I just need a SNL drinking game? It’ll give me an excuse to start boozing up on Sunday mornings.
wojr
Somehow, I’ve made my way far enough through my Tivo to catch the second episode of Studio 60. (I’m forever placing the clumsy “On the Sunset Strip” portion of the title in the implicit category.)
Last week, I recommended the pilot to the dozens of readers of this blog. Even though Studio 60’s pilot still stands as the best pilot episode I’ve seen for this Fall season (Full disclosure: I’ve yet to watch the pilots for 30 Rock or The Nine. If anyone wants to send them my way, drop me an email.), I found myself enjoying the second episode more (and I wasn’t yet aware of the Studio 60 Drinking Game). Now with all nice things I say, there is a “but” coming. It’s a flaw. I can never leave well enough alone. However, let’s cover the good points first.
“The Cold Open” does not share in the pilot episode’s burden of massive exposition. The audience now understands the hierarchy of the players and the major conflict facing all of them. The second episode gets to explore the characters more closely and strengthens the elements that I enjoyed in the pilot. Sorkin’s dialogue continues to impress. Matthew Perry, Amanda Peet and Steven Weber continue to shine. (By the way, Steven Weber? The other guy from Wings is kicking ass? Who’d a-thunk?) They manage to clearly define Perry’s character, Matt Albie, as a separate entity from Chandler Bing. Plus, there is a massive Pirates of Penzance reference.
Now, here come the buts...
First off, while Perry’s role is clearly differentiated from his previous popular character, Bradley Whitford still feels like he’s playing Josh Lyman from The West Wing. Since Sorkin never wrote for Friends, it is easy to see how this can occur to one lead and not the other.
While I like the character of Josh Lyman very much, I’m not interested in watching a retread. The character of Danny Tripp needs to stand on his own. I have a notion that Sorkin might use Tripp’s sexual preference as a way to distinguish the character. While there is nothing wrong with that in the “nothing wrong with that” way, if I can predict such a turn coming, then it’s by definition predictable.
“The Cold Open” gives us more exposure to the cast of the show within the show and I’m slightly underwhelmed. First off, they all seem rather passive for a troupe of performers with the exception of the jilted lover/branded catholic, Sarah Paulson. I’ve liked Paulson in other roles, but her character here is rather distracting. Plus, as Ken Levine points out in his blog, “they keep talking about how unbelievably talented” her character is, but fail to offer up actual proof.
However, my major complaint about the episode is the storyline’s acknowledgement of Lorne Michaels and his Saturday Night Live. I’d wager due to pressure from NBC, Sorkin makes clear that this is not SNL. Having Studio 60’s fictitious show come about in the 80s, broadcast on Friday nights and shoot in Los Angeles was not enough, they had to explicitly clarify that this is not SNL, which has its season premiere this Saturday night.
Having that distinction stated like that came off as back-pedaling to me. The pilot episode condemned the current state of TV, especially their fictitious effigy of NBC’s Saturday Night stalwart – a stalwart that, honestly, needed the condemnation.
Now, I still watch SNL. I don’t know if many of my friends still do. Every Sunday morning with my breakfast and paper, thanks to my trusty Tivo, I go through the episode. Truthfully, I fast forward through most of it. The repeated concepts that weren’t funny the first time. I’m looking at you, Carol. The parody commercials that they’ve repeated way too many times. Taco Town. The sketches that just do not end. None of them memorable.
Why do I do that? Because when they get it, when they make me laugh, I’m their bitch. Unfortunately, I rarely have to play that role.
Maybe I just need a SNL drinking game? It’ll give me an excuse to start boozing up on Sunday mornings.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Intoxication, Snide Remarks
Monday, September 18, 2006
“We're not sure which sister-pimping show he was talking about?”
That’s a direct quote from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip - the new show from Aaron Sorkin and Tommy Schlamme starring Matthew Perry, Bradley Whitford and Amanda Peet. The pilot for which airs tonight at 10 PM on NBC.
I’ve already watched it and got a real kick out of it. I’m not going to praise it as the second coming like most folks out there. The episode is mostly setup and some characters are glossed over. Some aren’t even introduced yet, but Sorkin has a lot of hieracrchy to establish without the benefit of years of Social Studies classes as he did with the West Wing. However, the acting especially from Peet and Perry is just top notch.
If you need additional endorsement..
Further proving he is yin to my yang, Bronc refuses to watch the show at all (despite his fondness for Sorkin and Schlamme’s Sport Night). Not only is it on opposite Monday Night Football on the East Coast, but it’s created by pinko liberals. Bronc also refuses to watch Weeds since it promotes the marijuana.
The word “bronc” actually means “to fuck things up.” So, don’t be a Bronc and watch the damn show. Unless you’re a Pittsburgh Steelers fan.
Other reviews can be found here and here.
wojr
That’s a direct quote from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip - the new show from Aaron Sorkin and Tommy Schlamme starring Matthew Perry, Bradley Whitford and Amanda Peet. The pilot for which airs tonight at 10 PM on NBC.
I’ve already watched it and got a real kick out of it. I’m not going to praise it as the second coming like most folks out there. The episode is mostly setup and some characters are glossed over. Some aren’t even introduced yet, but Sorkin has a lot of hieracrchy to establish without the benefit of years of Social Studies classes as he did with the West Wing. However, the acting especially from Peet and Perry is just top notch.
If you need additional endorsement..
Further proving he is yin to my yang, Bronc refuses to watch the show at all (despite his fondness for Sorkin and Schlamme’s Sport Night). Not only is it on opposite Monday Night Football on the East Coast, but it’s created by pinko liberals. Bronc also refuses to watch Weeds since it promotes the marijuana.
The word “bronc” actually means “to fuck things up.” So, don’t be a Bronc and watch the damn show. Unless you’re a Pittsburgh Steelers fan.
Other reviews can be found here and here.
wojr
Friday, September 15, 2006
Wojr’s Week in World of the Hip to the Hop
As we enter this 395th day in the Age of Diddy, wojr.com turns its gaze to the world of hip-hop (At least, what wojr’s white ass believes to be the world of hip-hop).
Bobbie Brown and Whitney Houston managed to sustain fourteen years of marriage. That’s quite an accomplishment. Of course, it is easier when Angelina Jolie isn’t chasing your man, but fourteen “Crack is Whack”, batshit crazy years of marital bliss is nothing to thumb your nose at. Even to wipe off the cocaine.
Fourteen years, man. I don’t know about you guys, but that makes me feel:
Found on accesshollywood.com (via some website I fail to recall):
“Run, Bobby! Don’t let Bin Laden get you. Run to Diddy, he’ll protect you. Wait, don’t take the crack with you! That’s my crack. Osama, pop a cap in that--”
Sorry, let that get away from me there, but speaking of Diddy-
Found on eonline.com:
I’m not worried though. The Diddy is strong. He can protect Bobby Brown from Osama if he so chooses. But he can be merciful, too. The Diddy can be kind. It’s what makes him Christ-like.
Besides it’s only England.
That’s all for this week in the hip to the hop. Next week, we’ll try to track down Bobby McFerrin whose year of retirement was up on August 15th. Time to get back to work, son.
wojr
As we enter this 395th day in the Age of Diddy, wojr.com turns its gaze to the world of hip-hop (At least, what wojr’s white ass believes to be the world of hip-hop).
Bobbie Brown and Whitney Houston managed to sustain fourteen years of marriage. That’s quite an accomplishment. Of course, it is easier when Angelina Jolie isn’t chasing your man, but fourteen “Crack is Whack”, batshit crazy years of marital bliss is nothing to thumb your nose at. Even to wipe off the cocaine.
Fourteen years, man. I don’t know about you guys, but that makes me feel:
- Old as balls, given how I remember both Whitney’s and New Edition’s debut albums.
- Still unclear on this whole sanctity of marriage thing the Right keeps wanting to protect.
Being Mrs. Bobby Brown no longer appeals to Whitney Houston.You got admit Brown’s tenacity but I think there’s another suitor competing for Houston’s attentions.
The "So Emotional" singer has filed for divorce from her husband of 14 years, citing irreconcilable differences, her rep, Nancy Seltzer, confirmed to E! News.
The court documents were filed Friday in Orange County, California. Though the filing was technically for a legal separation, Seltzer said Houston was referring to it as a divorce, as that was her intent.
However, Brown's attorney, Phaedra Parks, emphasized that the split had not yet reached that stage.
"It is a legal separation. It is not a divorce or a divorce petition," Parks told the Associated Press Wednesday.
Found on accesshollywood.com (via some website I fail to recall):
The New York Post quoted Boof as saying [Osama] bin Laden told her [Whitney] Houston was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.Who knows? This separation might just be an effort on Whitney's part to save Bobby’s life?
Boof said he even talked about spending a lot of money to go to the U.S. and meet her
She said he wanted to give Houston a mansion and he'd be willing to break his color rule and make her one of his wives.
As for Houston's husband Bobby Brown, Boof said bin Laden talked about having him killed.
“Run, Bobby! Don’t let Bin Laden get you. Run to Diddy, he’ll protect you. Wait, don’t take the crack with you! That’s my crack. Osama, pop a cap in that--”
Sorry, let that get away from me there, but speaking of Diddy-
Found on eonline.com:
ANOTHER NAME CHANGE: Sean Combs agreeing to stop using the name Diddy in the U.K. as part of a settlement with British music producer Richard "Diddy" Dearlove, who sued the rap mogul for unfair competition. At least he has plenty of other names to fall back on.Now that’s just cold. Some English Dick (his name is Richard) is trying to bring the Age of Diddy to a premature halt. Didn’t he see what happened to Tupac?
I’m not worried though. The Diddy is strong. He can protect Bobby Brown from Osama if he so chooses. But he can be merciful, too. The Diddy can be kind. It’s what makes him Christ-like.
Besides it’s only England.
That’s all for this week in the hip to the hop. Next week, we’ll try to track down Bobby McFerrin whose year of retirement was up on August 15th. Time to get back to work, son.
wojr
Thursday, September 14, 2006
This Is Pretty Much How My Mind Works
I bought this week’s Entertainment Weekly.
Not Just for the remarkable photo of Eva Longoria and her pet ass, but for the promise of EW’s 50 Best High School Films Ever. EVER.
Now, I had just purchased the special edition DVDs of both Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful last week. Given that overdose of the John Hughes, a retrospective of the fifty (that’s a five followed by a zero, if you didn’t know) top high school movies seems just perfect.
My complete thoughts on the films that made or did not make the EW high school list will have to wait for another post (I’ve been saying that a lot lately, huh?), but I will say that I was pissed that they only had write-ups for the top 25 films and then just listed the lower half – offering no justification for these bottom 25 picks. Those damn dick-teases over at Entertainment Weekly, they don’t even take the time to explain to me how Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire clocked in at Number 36 (while Some Kind of Wonderful, The Last American Virgin and PORKY’s are overlooked).
Does Goblet of Fire even take place in a high school? I can’t tell since most of the film is just three ridiculous exercises in child endangerment as the four students compete to win of all things, a glass cup. What’s up with that? A world populated with witches and wizards and the best prize they can come up with is a damn soup bowl.
Now, a prize worthy of that magical world would be 72 virgins in heaven or, better yet, immortality. I mean this is the Tri-Wizard Tournament not Fear Factor – why settle for crappy ass prizes, Mr. Potter? Even hockey players get more than the Stanley Cup if they win. Let’s up the ante.
Hell, let’s up the ante on the reality shows. I know if they were offering immortality and a couple of virgins to the winner of Survivor, I’d be more inclined to watch. Much more interesting than the “Segregation Island” fiasco that airs tonight.
Personally, I think Mark Burnett didn’t take it far enough in terms of the race issue. Where are the Arab and the Jewish teams? Let’s have the winner get the Gaza Strip. I bet more people would watch that than a CNN report. If America is already a bunch of infidels and devils in the eyes of the extremists, what do we have to lose?
See what happens when I stare at Eva Longoria’s ass too long? My mind just wonders.
Question for Discussion: which reality show would rather see set in the Middle East: Flavor of Love or Celebrity Fit Club or something else? And why?
wojr
I bought this week’s Entertainment Weekly.
Not Just for the remarkable photo of Eva Longoria and her pet ass, but for the promise of EW’s 50 Best High School Films Ever. EVER.
Now, I had just purchased the special edition DVDs of both Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful last week. Given that overdose of the John Hughes, a retrospective of the fifty (that’s a five followed by a zero, if you didn’t know) top high school movies seems just perfect.
My complete thoughts on the films that made or did not make the EW high school list will have to wait for another post (I’ve been saying that a lot lately, huh?), but I will say that I was pissed that they only had write-ups for the top 25 films and then just listed the lower half – offering no justification for these bottom 25 picks. Those damn dick-teases over at Entertainment Weekly, they don’t even take the time to explain to me how Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire clocked in at Number 36 (while Some Kind of Wonderful, The Last American Virgin and PORKY’s are overlooked).
Does Goblet of Fire even take place in a high school? I can’t tell since most of the film is just three ridiculous exercises in child endangerment as the four students compete to win of all things, a glass cup. What’s up with that? A world populated with witches and wizards and the best prize they can come up with is a damn soup bowl.
Now, a prize worthy of that magical world would be 72 virgins in heaven or, better yet, immortality. I mean this is the Tri-Wizard Tournament not Fear Factor – why settle for crappy ass prizes, Mr. Potter? Even hockey players get more than the Stanley Cup if they win. Let’s up the ante.
Hell, let’s up the ante on the reality shows. I know if they were offering immortality and a couple of virgins to the winner of Survivor, I’d be more inclined to watch. Much more interesting than the “Segregation Island” fiasco that airs tonight.
Personally, I think Mark Burnett didn’t take it far enough in terms of the race issue. Where are the Arab and the Jewish teams? Let’s have the winner get the Gaza Strip. I bet more people would watch that than a CNN report. If America is already a bunch of infidels and devils in the eyes of the extremists, what do we have to lose?
See what happens when I stare at Eva Longoria’s ass too long? My mind just wonders.
Question for Discussion: which reality show would rather see set in the Middle East: Flavor of Love or Celebrity Fit Club or something else? And why?
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Nostalgia, Snide Remarks
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
This Post Is Just So I Can Say “A Pimp-Related Mishap” and “Nazi Dinosaurs”
Back in college, I would write movie reviews for the college newspaper. I believe that I only did it for a semester or, at the very most, a year. To be honest, it got in the way of my drinking and/or couples’ counseling. Being the low man on the proverbial newspaper totem pole, I never got first crack at the various film choices. I usually received the third or fourth “top” movie opening that week. Hence, I got to write about some real dogs.
And by dogs – I mean some ugly ass bitches.
While writing about what fleas or ticks were on a particular dog of a movie that week fulfilled my need to dispel my bile and discontent, it did get old rather quickly. (I was a younger and less bitter wojr then. Now my need to express my hate and cynicism can never be quelled.) But I love movies and take joy in discussing them. Something I have done here occasionally.
I have been avoiding writing film reviews here. I have no real reason to express why, but I’ve been avoiding them just the same. With the fiancée out East, I’ve been able to see more of the motion pictures. (Whenever I read “motion pictures”, my mind imagines the phrase to be uttered by Woody Allen. Again, no real reason why, but I imagine it nonetheless.) This increase in film viewing has become possible since I’ve re-joined netflix.com (Insert obligatory plug here) and additionally find myself no longer required to clear my cinematic choices through said Filipino contingent.
For example, last Thursday night, I was able to catch the new Mike Judge film, Idiocracy. Most of you may not have heard about this movie since the good people at Twentieth Century Fox have made almost a negative effort in marketing it. They, then, chose to release it on only 130 screens in 7 cities. Doing so without even screening it for critics. (Something the two major releases for the Labor Day weekend, The Wicker Man and Crank, chose to do as well, but that’s a rant for another day.)
Before I walked into the theater, I had not seen a trailer or even a poster for Idiocracy. (In this age of the internet how could they not even slap a trailer on a website for god’s sake??) I did recall reading an interview in a magazine (I think it was Esquire because my ass is civilized.) with Judge, the creator of the Beavis & Butthead and King of the Hill cartoons, about his arduous efforts dealing with Fox just to get the damn thing released. Given my deep heterosexual love for Judge’s previous live-action film, Office Space, I was definitely interested to see the next film in his oeuvre.
Idiocracy is the story of an average Joe (swear to God, his name is Joe) that finds himself the guinea pig in a cryogenics experiment. After a pimp-related mishap, Joe (played by an affable Luke Wilson) wakes up in the year 2505 (the film was due out in 2005) to find himself the smartest person on the planet (I’ll stop using parentheses now).
The movie does take the time to explain how the ignorant have taken control via sheer humping – given how the Jerry Springer set have sex with more frequency and more partners than those with higher IQ and the self-awareness to use birth control. Expounded out five centuries and the idiots are all that’s left. Given that in the future the President is a wrestler, the number one television show is just a guy getting hit in the nuts, and people get their education from Costco, it is not a huge leap of faith to embrace this vision of the future.
Overall the film is far from perfect. It has its share of fleas, but the movie is enjoyable. Idiocracy is a solid “dumb comedy” that you won’t feel stupid for enjoying. Judge’s comments on consumerism, mass media and the group think/mob mentality are totally spot-on. At the very least, Maya Rudolph and her motherhood enhanced breasts are worth a rental.
The point of this post though – isn’t really to commend Judge for his efforts, but to condemn Fox for the lack of theirs. I just can not understand why Fox hasn’t thrown some support behind this movie. The Rip Van Winkle storyline is far from being a high concept/difficult sale, Mike Judge is a rare recognizable commodity in terms of writer/directors and the film is chuck full of trailer moments. Plus, given how the theatrical release of Judge’s last film, Office Space, was mishandled, you would think the studio would have been apprehensive to make the same mistakes.
There must be a reason for their inaction. I’ve heard allegations that Tim Rothman, the head of Fox, is the “kind of guy that’d go out of his way to cockblock his own projects in order to stick to some one he doesn’t like.” (-aintitcoonews.com) I’m sure that’s something Fox stockholders must love, but they can’t be surprised. You don’t invest in Hollywood without accounting for a pissing contest or two.
So, if you live in the following cities, Austin, Dallas, Houston, Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles and Toronto, I would recommend going to see Idiocracy.
Of course, I’d recommend any film that had Nazi Dinosaurs in it.
And Idiocracy has Nazi Dinosaurs.
wojr
Back in college, I would write movie reviews for the college newspaper. I believe that I only did it for a semester or, at the very most, a year. To be honest, it got in the way of my drinking and/or couples’ counseling. Being the low man on the proverbial newspaper totem pole, I never got first crack at the various film choices. I usually received the third or fourth “top” movie opening that week. Hence, I got to write about some real dogs.
And by dogs – I mean some ugly ass bitches.
While writing about what fleas or ticks were on a particular dog of a movie that week fulfilled my need to dispel my bile and discontent, it did get old rather quickly. (I was a younger and less bitter wojr then. Now my need to express my hate and cynicism can never be quelled.) But I love movies and take joy in discussing them. Something I have done here occasionally.
I have been avoiding writing film reviews here. I have no real reason to express why, but I’ve been avoiding them just the same. With the fiancée out East, I’ve been able to see more of the motion pictures. (Whenever I read “motion pictures”, my mind imagines the phrase to be uttered by Woody Allen. Again, no real reason why, but I imagine it nonetheless.) This increase in film viewing has become possible since I’ve re-joined netflix.com (Insert obligatory plug here) and additionally find myself no longer required to clear my cinematic choices through said Filipino contingent.
For example, last Thursday night, I was able to catch the new Mike Judge film, Idiocracy. Most of you may not have heard about this movie since the good people at Twentieth Century Fox have made almost a negative effort in marketing it. They, then, chose to release it on only 130 screens in 7 cities. Doing so without even screening it for critics. (Something the two major releases for the Labor Day weekend, The Wicker Man and Crank, chose to do as well, but that’s a rant for another day.)
Before I walked into the theater, I had not seen a trailer or even a poster for Idiocracy. (In this age of the internet how could they not even slap a trailer on a website for god’s sake??) I did recall reading an interview in a magazine (I think it was Esquire because my ass is civilized.) with Judge, the creator of the Beavis & Butthead and King of the Hill cartoons, about his arduous efforts dealing with Fox just to get the damn thing released. Given my deep heterosexual love for Judge’s previous live-action film, Office Space, I was definitely interested to see the next film in his oeuvre.
Idiocracy is the story of an average Joe (swear to God, his name is Joe) that finds himself the guinea pig in a cryogenics experiment. After a pimp-related mishap, Joe (played by an affable Luke Wilson) wakes up in the year 2505 (the film was due out in 2005) to find himself the smartest person on the planet (I’ll stop using parentheses now).
The movie does take the time to explain how the ignorant have taken control via sheer humping – given how the Jerry Springer set have sex with more frequency and more partners than those with higher IQ and the self-awareness to use birth control. Expounded out five centuries and the idiots are all that’s left. Given that in the future the President is a wrestler, the number one television show is just a guy getting hit in the nuts, and people get their education from Costco, it is not a huge leap of faith to embrace this vision of the future.
Overall the film is far from perfect. It has its share of fleas, but the movie is enjoyable. Idiocracy is a solid “dumb comedy” that you won’t feel stupid for enjoying. Judge’s comments on consumerism, mass media and the group think/mob mentality are totally spot-on. At the very least, Maya Rudolph and her motherhood enhanced breasts are worth a rental.
The point of this post though – isn’t really to commend Judge for his efforts, but to condemn Fox for the lack of theirs. I just can not understand why Fox hasn’t thrown some support behind this movie. The Rip Van Winkle storyline is far from being a high concept/difficult sale, Mike Judge is a rare recognizable commodity in terms of writer/directors and the film is chuck full of trailer moments. Plus, given how the theatrical release of Judge’s last film, Office Space, was mishandled, you would think the studio would have been apprehensive to make the same mistakes.
There must be a reason for their inaction. I’ve heard allegations that Tim Rothman, the head of Fox, is the “kind of guy that’d go out of his way to cockblock his own projects in order to stick to some one he doesn’t like.” (-aintitcoonews.com) I’m sure that’s something Fox stockholders must love, but they can’t be surprised. You don’t invest in Hollywood without accounting for a pissing contest or two.
So, if you live in the following cities, Austin, Dallas, Houston, Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles and Toronto, I would recommend going to see Idiocracy.
Of course, I’d recommend any film that had Nazi Dinosaurs in it.
And Idiocracy has Nazi Dinosaurs.
wojr
Labels: Advice, Crackers, Hollywood, Snide Remarks
Friday, September 08, 2006
Scientology Conspiracy Theory #24420 or How Xenu & the Galactic Confederacy Can Save Suri’s Soul, Just Not Travolta’s
wojr.com would like to offer this brief recap on This Week in Scary Scientology:
We started off the week with Brooke Shield’s disclosure that Tom Cruise had apologized to her for saying she violated his religion’s doctrine on medication and postpartum depression. (Which in Cruise’s defense, she did violate.) Brooke, however, still owes me an apology for Suddenly Susan.
Then Katie Couric debuted her sweet ass on CBS with the unveiling of Vanity Fair’s pictures of the second coming, Suri. (I used to have such the hankering for Katie Holmes. Now, she's lost to me. It's almost like when a porn star finds God and quits the biz.)
So, it’s pretty obvious that Cruise is trying to trying to clean up his public image. You know, the one where he’s bat-shit crazy.
However, this week also saw the National Enquirer reveal this image of John Travolta kissing a dude:
Not that there's anything wrong with that. (I'm just saying that to kowtow to my gay and lesbian audience. There is something very wrong with that photo.)
And then USA today released this image of Travolta reprising Divine's role of Edna Turnblad in the upcoming film, Hairspray:
I wouldn't hit that with Vitti's dick.
Jenna Elfman and Jason Lee, strangely enough, were not in the news at all this week. However, I will slip a quote from a Jason Lee role at the end of the piece and Jenna Elfman still owes me an apology for Dharma & Greg.
So, here’s my conspiracy theory:
I think the Church of Scary Scientology is offering up John Travolta to the mass media as a sacrificial lamb in order to save Tom Cruise.
I can understand their thinking. Travolta is the king of the cinematic comeback. He can weather the storm, play around with his planes and wait for the next Tarantino to cast him in something hip.
Tom Cruise can't handle a comeback. The boy can't handle a blemish. He might self implode and then sue himself to re-assert his heterosexuality.
Overall, I'm not impressed with these actions. I expected more from my L. Ron peeps. I think their battle against Xenu is distracting them from their Public Relations duties.
Now, if Cruise apologized to that "erotic wrestler" he sued, then we’re talking about something.
Anything else is just "bullshit posturing". (Thank you, Banky Edwards!)
And by the way, wojr.com does not owe any apologies.
wojr
wojr.com would like to offer this brief recap on This Week in Scary Scientology:
We started off the week with Brooke Shield’s disclosure that Tom Cruise had apologized to her for saying she violated his religion’s doctrine on medication and postpartum depression. (Which in Cruise’s defense, she did violate.) Brooke, however, still owes me an apology for Suddenly Susan.
Then Katie Couric debuted her sweet ass on CBS with the unveiling of Vanity Fair’s pictures of the second coming, Suri. (I used to have such the hankering for Katie Holmes. Now, she's lost to me. It's almost like when a porn star finds God and quits the biz.)
So, it’s pretty obvious that Cruise is trying to trying to clean up his public image. You know, the one where he’s bat-shit crazy.
However, this week also saw the National Enquirer reveal this image of John Travolta kissing a dude:
Not that there's anything wrong with that. (I'm just saying that to kowtow to my gay and lesbian audience. There is something very wrong with that photo.)And then USA today released this image of Travolta reprising Divine's role of Edna Turnblad in the upcoming film, Hairspray:
I wouldn't hit that with Vitti's dick.Jenna Elfman and Jason Lee, strangely enough, were not in the news at all this week. However, I will slip a quote from a Jason Lee role at the end of the piece and Jenna Elfman still owes me an apology for Dharma & Greg.
So, here’s my conspiracy theory:
I think the Church of Scary Scientology is offering up John Travolta to the mass media as a sacrificial lamb in order to save Tom Cruise.
I can understand their thinking. Travolta is the king of the cinematic comeback. He can weather the storm, play around with his planes and wait for the next Tarantino to cast him in something hip.
Tom Cruise can't handle a comeback. The boy can't handle a blemish. He might self implode and then sue himself to re-assert his heterosexuality.
Overall, I'm not impressed with these actions. I expected more from my L. Ron peeps. I think their battle against Xenu is distracting them from their Public Relations duties.
Now, if Cruise apologized to that "erotic wrestler" he sued, then we’re talking about something.
Anything else is just "bullshit posturing". (Thank you, Banky Edwards!)
And by the way, wojr.com does not owe any apologies.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, News, Religion, Snide Remarks
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
The Man with Two Dicks Picks Hitler over Hilton
For today’s post, wojr.com is going to include a little trivia:
What 1993 film was Mel Gibson’s directorial debut?
We’ll tell you the answer at the end of the post.
Yesterday, The Lord of Truth forwarded me this story he found on news.yahoo.com:
But, then I read this little factoid:
Suddenly, I’m not that impressed with diphallus. It seems routine.
Like this other story out of India found on cnn.com:
But then, I found this gem of a story on reuters.com:
But enough of anti-Semitism and other wacky Hollywood behavior, lets get back to Mel Gibson.
If you said that Mel’s directorial debut was The Man With Two Faces, you would be incorrect. If you got the answer wrong, don't get yourself down - I meant to mislead you.
The correct response was The Man Without a Face, which was also the big screen debut for Nick Stahl of Carnivàle fame.
As far as we know, both these men only have one penis.
wojr
For today’s post, wojr.com is going to include a little trivia:
What 1993 film was Mel Gibson’s directorial debut?
We’ll tell you the answer at the end of the post.
Yesterday, The Lord of Truth forwarded me this story he found on news.yahoo.com:
NEW DELHI (Reuters) - An Indian businessman born with two penises wants one of them removed surgically as he wants to marry and lead a normal sexual life, a newspaper report said Saturday.A man with two dicks - my first reaction was “Oh, that’s going on the site.” I could make some jokes about his moral obligation to do a porno before getting the operation. I could hypothesize about what was the “straw that broke the camel’s back” that made him choose the operation now at the age of 24.
The 24-year-old man from the northern state of Uttar Pradesh admitted himself to a New Delhi hospital this week with an extremely rare medical condition called penile duplication or diphallus, the Times of India said.
But, then I read this little factoid:
There are about 100 such reported cases of diphallus around the world and it is known to occur among one in 5.5 million men.So, my math skills may be off, but doesn’t that mean there are at least 90 of these two dicked fuckers running China alone?
Suddenly, I’m not that impressed with diphallus. It seems routine.
Like this other story out of India found on cnn.com:
India deeming Paris Hilton's video for "Stars Are Blind" too hot for broadcast after claiming it had sexual connotations.So, Paris is being banned by the Indians (dots not feathers). Probably payback for the thought of her playing their beloved Mother Teresa on the big screen. Who cares, right?
But then, I found this gem of a story on reuters.com:
MUMBAI (Reuters) - Israel's mission in India asked city authorities in the financial hub of Mumbai on Wednesday to get a restaurant called "Hitler's Cross" to change its name.Now if my logic center is working right, India has thus chosen Adolph Hitler as a more acceptable cultural influence than Paris Hilton – a notion that just fills me with some strange sense of glee.
The restaurant, which opened last week, was promoted with posters of Hitler and Nazi swastikas, infuriating India's small Jewish population.
The restaurant's owners have said they were neither promoting Hitler nor the Nazi ideology, but would not change the restaurant's name.
They have said they would open two more branches in Mumbai with the same name by October.
But enough of anti-Semitism and other wacky Hollywood behavior, lets get back to Mel Gibson.
If you said that Mel’s directorial debut was The Man With Two Faces, you would be incorrect. If you got the answer wrong, don't get yourself down - I meant to mislead you.
The correct response was The Man Without a Face, which was also the big screen debut for Nick Stahl of Carnivàle fame.
As far as we know, both these men only have one penis.
wojr
Friday, May 21, 2004
Weekends Are Meant For Mischief
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." - The Club of Fight
HAPPY 5PM FRIDAY EVERYONE!
wojr
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." - The Club of Fight
HAPPY 5PM FRIDAY EVERYONE!
wojr
Labels: 5PMSendoff, Hollywood
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
If I Was Watching American Idol, It Might Have Been Paula Abdul
My predilection to bizarre dreams is well known amongst my friends. One involving 12-year-old blonde mulattos and velvet paintings happens to be a repeated source of mocking and ridicule. It definitely does not help my tendency towards the peculiar when I fall asleep with the television turned on; allowing whatever late night/early morning television programming to seep into my subconscious.
Last night's dream revolved around a high school reunion. Judging by the attendees and the Jersey Shore locale, I will assume it was for my high school. However, during the course of the night, I was picked up by one of the other participants, a famous one that really had no reason to be at the reunion, Whitney Houston.
Except for her possible presence in the background television programming, I have no idea why Whitney would be in my dream. I have no particular attraction to her. Despite such statements as "Crack is cheap. I make too much for me to ever smoke crack. Let's get that straight, OK? I don't do crack. I don't do that. Crack is whack." the lady really isn't my type (Now, Halle Berry, that's a frequent dream liaison). Even though in my dream, Whitney did have it going on. She was more in her "I Want To Dance With Somebody" phase than the present "I smoke rock, Joe Rogan" state of being.
So, the basic plot of my dream involved Whitney and I avoiding my classmates as well as Bobbi Brown as we search for a quiet place to get our groove on. I guess a hotel room was out of the question for my subconscious. But before I got to be Whitney's bodyguard, the 5 AM Broncatello Wake Up Call ended my blissful slumber.
When I looked at the television to see what show had spurred all these illusory visions, can you imagine which one was on? Not Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Not The E! True Hollywood Story. Not even Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories.
It was COPS
wojr
My predilection to bizarre dreams is well known amongst my friends. One involving 12-year-old blonde mulattos and velvet paintings happens to be a repeated source of mocking and ridicule. It definitely does not help my tendency towards the peculiar when I fall asleep with the television turned on; allowing whatever late night/early morning television programming to seep into my subconscious.
Last night's dream revolved around a high school reunion. Judging by the attendees and the Jersey Shore locale, I will assume it was for my high school. However, during the course of the night, I was picked up by one of the other participants, a famous one that really had no reason to be at the reunion, Whitney Houston.
Except for her possible presence in the background television programming, I have no idea why Whitney would be in my dream. I have no particular attraction to her. Despite such statements as "Crack is cheap. I make too much for me to ever smoke crack. Let's get that straight, OK? I don't do crack. I don't do that. Crack is whack." the lady really isn't my type (Now, Halle Berry, that's a frequent dream liaison). Even though in my dream, Whitney did have it going on. She was more in her "I Want To Dance With Somebody" phase than the present "I smoke rock, Joe Rogan" state of being.
So, the basic plot of my dream involved Whitney and I avoiding my classmates as well as Bobbi Brown as we search for a quiet place to get our groove on. I guess a hotel room was out of the question for my subconscious. But before I got to be Whitney's bodyguard, the 5 AM Broncatello Wake Up Call ended my blissful slumber.
When I looked at the television to see what show had spurred all these illusory visions, can you imagine which one was on? Not Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Not The E! True Hollywood Story. Not even Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories.
It was COPS
wojr
Saturday, April 10, 2004
Little Little Post
One thing I love about the Internet is its ability for one to communally revel in geekness.
Check out this message board filled with people that share in my previously mentioned utter fascination with the trailer for Garden State.
(I know - I'm a tool. Let's see your website, where you are cool ALL THE TIME.)
wojr
One thing I love about the Internet is its ability for one to communally revel in geekness.
Check out this message board filled with people that share in my previously mentioned utter fascination with the trailer for Garden State.
(I know - I'm a tool. Let's see your website, where you are cool ALL THE TIME.)
wojr
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE..
If you haven't already seen it, Dave Chappelle: Charley Murphy's True Hollywood Story - Rick James.
Very well might be the funniest thing I have ever seen.
wojr
If you haven't already seen it, Dave Chappelle: Charley Murphy's True Hollywood Story - Rick James.
Very well might be the funniest thing I have ever seen.
wojr
Monday, April 05, 2004
But what I really want to do is direct movie trailers..
Personally, I am a big fan of the movie trailer, a big fan.
I think there should be more of them in front of the featured film. I search them out on the Internet for repeated viewings. I even go so far as to watch the show on E!, Coming Attractions, that is entirely comprised of these precious advertisements. Well, you get the point; I'm a fan of the movie trailer. (If you don't get the point, please go lock yourself in a mountain cabin and never allow yourself to reproduce.)
I recently saw two trailers that caught me off guard and not for the reasons one would expect.
The first was the preview for a film called Saved! (Their exclamation point, not mine.) The film looks to be about a high school for born-again Christians. The thing that astounded me was my utter inability to decipher if the film was embracing this contingent of Christianity or outright mocking it. I think the film is a black comedy, but I'm afraid I may be projecting my own cynicism on what I saw. If someone knows what is going on with this movie, please let me know.
The second trailer was for a film called Garden State. I remember reading about this film in a report on the Sundance Film Festival. Written and directed by Zach Braff, the star of Scrubs, the film was lauded as on of the breakout hits of the festival. Yes, written and directed by the star of Scrubs or as Bronc put it "The doofy white guy?"
The trailer, however, kicked my ass.
The damn thing is only 65 seconds longs, has utterly no dialogue and completely transfixes me. It's just a series of quasi-iconic images shown in conjunction with this beautiful song by a band called "Frou Frou." I have utterly no idea what the film is about, but I am completely sold. (And my Natalie Portman obsession has nothing to do with it. Ok, almost nothing.)
A song by a band called "Frou Frou." A film by White Guy from Scrubs. What the hell is going on with my sorry ass?
Hell, I'm going to go finish my own script - if the Scrubs guy can have a "genuine filmmaker's eye and is loaded with talent", it should be easy, right?
Right?
wojr
Personally, I am a big fan of the movie trailer, a big fan.
I think there should be more of them in front of the featured film. I search them out on the Internet for repeated viewings. I even go so far as to watch the show on E!, Coming Attractions, that is entirely comprised of these precious advertisements. Well, you get the point; I'm a fan of the movie trailer. (If you don't get the point, please go lock yourself in a mountain cabin and never allow yourself to reproduce.)
I recently saw two trailers that caught me off guard and not for the reasons one would expect.
The first was the preview for a film called Saved! (Their exclamation point, not mine.) The film looks to be about a high school for born-again Christians. The thing that astounded me was my utter inability to decipher if the film was embracing this contingent of Christianity or outright mocking it. I think the film is a black comedy, but I'm afraid I may be projecting my own cynicism on what I saw. If someone knows what is going on with this movie, please let me know.
The second trailer was for a film called Garden State. I remember reading about this film in a report on the Sundance Film Festival. Written and directed by Zach Braff, the star of Scrubs, the film was lauded as on of the breakout hits of the festival. Yes, written and directed by the star of Scrubs or as Bronc put it "The doofy white guy?"
The trailer, however, kicked my ass.
The damn thing is only 65 seconds longs, has utterly no dialogue and completely transfixes me. It's just a series of quasi-iconic images shown in conjunction with this beautiful song by a band called "Frou Frou." I have utterly no idea what the film is about, but I am completely sold. (And my Natalie Portman obsession has nothing to do with it. Ok, almost nothing.)
A song by a band called "Frou Frou." A film by White Guy from Scrubs. What the hell is going on with my sorry ass?
Hell, I'm going to go finish my own script - if the Scrubs guy can have a "genuine filmmaker's eye and is loaded with talent", it should be easy, right?
Right?
wojr
Labels: Hollywood
Monday, March 29, 2004
They're Afraid of Opie, I Tell You
My shit is psychic, yo.
According to this article, they are planning behind the scenes telepics of 'Different Strokes', 'Laverne & Shirley', 'Mork & Mindy' & 'Bewitched.' ("We need to do it in a non-exploitative manner." HA)
How can you include 'Laverne & Shirley' AND 'Mork & Mindy' but ignore 'Happy Days'? They're in the same damn TV universe, made by the same damn people. Why not do 'Happy Days' unless you are, like I said, afraid of Ron Howard?
I realize no one cares, but I love being right.
LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT
(How much do you want to bet the 'Bewitched' telepic comes out just when the Nicole Kidman/Will Ferrell big-screen version hits the multiplex? Those TV bastards aren't as dumb as one might think.)
wojr
My shit is psychic, yo.
According to this article, they are planning behind the scenes telepics of 'Different Strokes', 'Laverne & Shirley', 'Mork & Mindy' & 'Bewitched.' ("We need to do it in a non-exploitative manner." HA)
How can you include 'Laverne & Shirley' AND 'Mork & Mindy' but ignore 'Happy Days'? They're in the same damn TV universe, made by the same damn people. Why not do 'Happy Days' unless you are, like I said, afraid of Ron Howard?
I realize no one cares, but I love being right.
LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT
(How much do you want to bet the 'Bewitched' telepic comes out just when the Nicole Kidman/Will Ferrell big-screen version hits the multiplex? Those TV bastards aren't as dumb as one might think.)
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Nostalgia, Snide Remarks
Saturday, March 27, 2004
"That don't sound too good, Bill Murray."
Just goes to show you that you don't need big budgets to make my ass laugh. I know Jim Jarmusch is not for everyone, but just look at this trailer for Coffee and Cigarettes.
Gza, Rza & Bill Murray - I could watch two hours of that conversation alone. "The Chinese delegation drafts the Wu Tang Clan."
wojr
Just goes to show you that you don't need big budgets to make my ass laugh. I know Jim Jarmusch is not for everyone, but just look at this trailer for Coffee and Cigarettes.
Gza, Rza & Bill Murray - I could watch two hours of that conversation alone. "The Chinese delegation drafts the Wu Tang Clan."
wojr
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
But How Happy Were Those Happy Days?
(Warning: While I consciously avoided any of George Carlin's Seven Dirty Words, the following rant does delve into topics of gang rape, cocaine usage, interracial group sex, prostitution, Brady Bunch incest, sex with minors, cross-dressing, heroin addiction, female ejaculation, homosexuality and Ron Howard. Be forewarned.)
One of the positive things about growing older is, that given enough time, the truth comes out. And as it says in The Fountainhead, "the nice explanations are never the true ones". Especially in Hollywood. Given enough time, the spin-doctoring fades away and people realize which closeted actors enjoyed the sweet taste of man-love, that dehydrated actresses frequently suffer from heroin addiction and that Greg Brady tried to get with his on-screen Mother and Sister.
Thanks to Hollywood tell-alls and TV movies, the public has learned some of the truth about Three's Company, Charlie's Angels, The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.
But, what about Happy Days? Where's the tell-all on that show? Aren't Donny Most and Erin Moran hard up enough for cash to be fleecing the secrets of that beloved sitcom?
I mean the show was one of the biggest hits of the late 70s. Cocaine was good for you then. Bad things must have happened. Now, I don't mean bad things like the gang rape of Jenny Piccalo or Arnold and Big Al double-teaming a twelve-year old blonde mulatto, but, come on now, everyone saw the Mork from Ork episode. The only explanation for that mess is heavy drug use, plus I think cocaine originated at Robin Williams. Forget the movie Blow, that man is the source.
I know what you're thinking Happy Days is beloved. It's Americana. It's the epitome of conservatism. Just don't forget it's still Hollywood. I went to a conservative college for only four years and my friends & I have enough crazy sex stories from that period to last a lifetime (especially Phil's ultimate female ejaculation story.) That show was on the air for TEN YEARS in less than conservative Tinseltown. Heck, it's 2004 and Scott Baio still hasn't left the Playboy Mansion.
So..
Ask yourself, why call her "Leather Tuscadero" if she wasn't into S&M?
Ask yourself, what happened to the older Cunningham brother, Chuck? Or Fonzie's cousin, Spike? They just disappeared and were never mentioned again. My theory: cross-dressers. But, I have no facts.
Ask yourself, why was the dim-witted character called "Potsie"? I'm not saying for certain that the boy liked the marijuana, but that's the one guy on the show I would assume was holding.
Ask yourself, what was the deal with "the Pinkettes"? Was Pinky Tuscadero their madam, pimping those poor girls out to support her demolition derby career? (On a serious note though, Roz Kelly, the actress that played Pinky, got three years in jail in 1998 for "shooting up cars and a neighbors apartment after a car alarm went off in the early morning and woke her up.")
I'm sure there are more tidbits that need to see the light of day. But I doubt they will. I just think Ron Howard aka Richie has become too powerful in Hollywood. He's an outright mogul now and no one wants to cross that line. Even a man who blabbed so much he was dubbed "Ralph Malph".
By the way, about Jenny Piccalo's gang rape - here's an actual quote from the show: "I wouldn't miss this for a weekend with the Green Bay Packers as their towel girl!" The girl was asking for it.
wojr
(Warning: While I consciously avoided any of George Carlin's Seven Dirty Words, the following rant does delve into topics of gang rape, cocaine usage, interracial group sex, prostitution, Brady Bunch incest, sex with minors, cross-dressing, heroin addiction, female ejaculation, homosexuality and Ron Howard. Be forewarned.)
One of the positive things about growing older is, that given enough time, the truth comes out. And as it says in The Fountainhead, "the nice explanations are never the true ones". Especially in Hollywood. Given enough time, the spin-doctoring fades away and people realize which closeted actors enjoyed the sweet taste of man-love, that dehydrated actresses frequently suffer from heroin addiction and that Greg Brady tried to get with his on-screen Mother and Sister.
Thanks to Hollywood tell-alls and TV movies, the public has learned some of the truth about Three's Company, Charlie's Angels, The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.
But, what about Happy Days? Where's the tell-all on that show? Aren't Donny Most and Erin Moran hard up enough for cash to be fleecing the secrets of that beloved sitcom?
I mean the show was one of the biggest hits of the late 70s. Cocaine was good for you then. Bad things must have happened. Now, I don't mean bad things like the gang rape of Jenny Piccalo or Arnold and Big Al double-teaming a twelve-year old blonde mulatto, but, come on now, everyone saw the Mork from Ork episode. The only explanation for that mess is heavy drug use, plus I think cocaine originated at Robin Williams. Forget the movie Blow, that man is the source.
I know what you're thinking Happy Days is beloved. It's Americana. It's the epitome of conservatism. Just don't forget it's still Hollywood. I went to a conservative college for only four years and my friends & I have enough crazy sex stories from that period to last a lifetime (especially Phil's ultimate female ejaculation story.) That show was on the air for TEN YEARS in less than conservative Tinseltown. Heck, it's 2004 and Scott Baio still hasn't left the Playboy Mansion.
So..
Ask yourself, why call her "Leather Tuscadero" if she wasn't into S&M?
Ask yourself, what happened to the older Cunningham brother, Chuck? Or Fonzie's cousin, Spike? They just disappeared and were never mentioned again. My theory: cross-dressers. But, I have no facts.
Ask yourself, why was the dim-witted character called "Potsie"? I'm not saying for certain that the boy liked the marijuana, but that's the one guy on the show I would assume was holding.
Ask yourself, what was the deal with "the Pinkettes"? Was Pinky Tuscadero their madam, pimping those poor girls out to support her demolition derby career? (On a serious note though, Roz Kelly, the actress that played Pinky, got three years in jail in 1998 for "shooting up cars and a neighbors apartment after a car alarm went off in the early morning and woke her up.")
I'm sure there are more tidbits that need to see the light of day. But I doubt they will. I just think Ron Howard aka Richie has become too powerful in Hollywood. He's an outright mogul now and no one wants to cross that line. Even a man who blabbed so much he was dubbed "Ralph Malph".
By the way, about Jenny Piccalo's gang rape - here's an actual quote from the show: "I wouldn't miss this for a weekend with the Green Bay Packers as their towel girl!" The girl was asking for it.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores
Sunday, March 21, 2004
"Why Adults Don't Take Field Trips.. (or This Sort Of Thing Never Happens to Marc Silvestri*)"
As some of you noticed, yesterday was the first day that I did not post anything. No rant, no weak attempt to make the funny, not even an attack at organized religion.
That's because I was at a COMIC BOOK CONVENTION. (Please hold your laughter.)
Specifically, the first annual Wizard World Los Angeles Comic Book Convention (which took place in Long Beach instead of Los Angeles, but who's complaining?) and like the first version of anything it had its kinks, its birthing pains.
Here's a story about one of them:
One of the aspects of these self-proclaimed "geekfests" that I enjoy is the panel discussion - even if the panel is made up of one person. I particularly enjoy the ones involving the creative process. There is always more for me to learn and I am not above stealing successful techniques from my successful (i.e., "Paid") peers.
One panel that I was quite interested in was "Jeph Loeb: Adapting Comics for Movies and TV." As the convention guide blurb states, "How do you write the Superman comic and the "Smallville" TV show? Jeph Loeb knows, 'cause he does both. Join him as he gives pointers on the transition from page to screen." Well, that seemed perfect for me. Especially when you take into account my appreciation of the man's writing - 'The Long Halloween' and 'Superman for All Seasons' are seminal works in my opinion.
Thus, I show up at the scheduled place & time and-- Well, here is where the convention's birthing pains comes into the story. Normally, these discussions take place in their own separate rooms, away from the hustle & bustle of the convention and its throngs of attendees. Instead the planners of this show decided, in an obvious bid to save a few shekels, to hold these discussions right off the main convention floor, separated from the noise of the masses by some thin sheets handing from aluminum rods.
So, when Jeph Loeb shows up and starts his spiel, not only can the rear half of the group not even hear him, but the man needs to stop every time the PA system decides to make some lame announcement. After a few minutes of this rigmarole, Loeb decides to take us all on a "field trip".
The basic idea being that we will follow him to someplace outside or upstairs that would be quieter and more amenable to discussion. As we leave the cordoned-off discussion area, the first person behind Mr. Loeb is a massive fellow that I will dub "Big Al." Big Al is a large man. Just shy of six feet in height and firmly entrenched in the three hundred pound range, it is much easier to follow a man like him in a crowd of hundreds than a smaller fellow like Jeph Loeb. So, I keep Big Al in sight and stay with the other members of the group.
After five minutes of walking, Big Al leads us all to the end of a corridor, just like the marching band from the end of 'Animal House'. I guess I was not the only one following Big Al. Therefore, thirty of us are left wondering, "Where the hell did Jeph Loeb go?" I can't imagine that there were more than 30 of us in that little cordoned-off area - so, I doubt the talk ever happened. If it did or if anyone knows what happened to Jeph Loeb, please drop me a note because I would love to know what the hell happened. Maybe Rich Johnston can tell me tomorrow morning.
(*For those that don't know, Marc Silvestri is a talented artist & head of Top Cow Studios as well as a freaking giant, even to my 6'3" frame.)
wojr
As some of you noticed, yesterday was the first day that I did not post anything. No rant, no weak attempt to make the funny, not even an attack at organized religion.
That's because I was at a COMIC BOOK CONVENTION. (Please hold your laughter.)
Specifically, the first annual Wizard World Los Angeles Comic Book Convention (which took place in Long Beach instead of Los Angeles, but who's complaining?) and like the first version of anything it had its kinks, its birthing pains.
Here's a story about one of them:
One of the aspects of these self-proclaimed "geekfests" that I enjoy is the panel discussion - even if the panel is made up of one person. I particularly enjoy the ones involving the creative process. There is always more for me to learn and I am not above stealing successful techniques from my successful (i.e., "Paid") peers.
One panel that I was quite interested in was "Jeph Loeb: Adapting Comics for Movies and TV." As the convention guide blurb states, "How do you write the Superman comic and the "Smallville" TV show? Jeph Loeb knows, 'cause he does both. Join him as he gives pointers on the transition from page to screen." Well, that seemed perfect for me. Especially when you take into account my appreciation of the man's writing - 'The Long Halloween' and 'Superman for All Seasons' are seminal works in my opinion.
Thus, I show up at the scheduled place & time and-- Well, here is where the convention's birthing pains comes into the story. Normally, these discussions take place in their own separate rooms, away from the hustle & bustle of the convention and its throngs of attendees. Instead the planners of this show decided, in an obvious bid to save a few shekels, to hold these discussions right off the main convention floor, separated from the noise of the masses by some thin sheets handing from aluminum rods.
So, when Jeph Loeb shows up and starts his spiel, not only can the rear half of the group not even hear him, but the man needs to stop every time the PA system decides to make some lame announcement. After a few minutes of this rigmarole, Loeb decides to take us all on a "field trip".
The basic idea being that we will follow him to someplace outside or upstairs that would be quieter and more amenable to discussion. As we leave the cordoned-off discussion area, the first person behind Mr. Loeb is a massive fellow that I will dub "Big Al." Big Al is a large man. Just shy of six feet in height and firmly entrenched in the three hundred pound range, it is much easier to follow a man like him in a crowd of hundreds than a smaller fellow like Jeph Loeb. So, I keep Big Al in sight and stay with the other members of the group.
After five minutes of walking, Big Al leads us all to the end of a corridor, just like the marching band from the end of 'Animal House'. I guess I was not the only one following Big Al. Therefore, thirty of us are left wondering, "Where the hell did Jeph Loeb go?" I can't imagine that there were more than 30 of us in that little cordoned-off area - so, I doubt the talk ever happened. If it did or if anyone knows what happened to Jeph Loeb, please drop me a note because I would love to know what the hell happened. Maybe Rich Johnston can tell me tomorrow morning.
(*For those that don't know, Marc Silvestri is a talented artist & head of Top Cow Studios as well as a freaking giant, even to my 6'3" frame.)
wojr
Labels: Comic Books, Hollywood
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Maybe I Should Pitch 'Joseph and the Colored Coat Thing' starring Michael Chiklis
With the overwhelming success of The Passion of the Christ, there is much talk in Hollywood about making more religious based pictures. Just like after the success of Titanic, there was a push towards historical disaster pics. Then, after Spider-Man, we were/are inundated with comic book movies. When there is money to be had, Hollywood will try to recapture lightning in a bottle. So, get ready because the Pearl Harbors and Daredevils of the biblical world are sure to be coming to a multiplex soon.
But is the success of Passion just based on the religious content? Aren't some people going just for the controversy revolving around the film? Just to be part of the cultural zeitgeist similar to the success of the Blair Witch Project? I don't know. Films with controversial religious content have never really fared well in the box office. Look at Priest, Dogma, and even The Last Temptation of Christ. All were, at best, considered a moderate financial success. (Can't you just imagine Kevin Smith railing away at Passion's grosses? "Where's my religious movie money, bi-yatch? I made Dogma. I had death threats. I wants my money. F- Mel Gibson. F- William Donohue.") Of course, all were decried by religious groups as anti-Catholic. I guess controversy is good for the wallet but only if it's directed away from Catholicism. Maybe if Hitler had gone after the Catholics, the grosses of Schindler's List would have been better.
Therefore, I guess I should start watching what I say & just rage against other groups. Like homosexuals. Eminem seems to have done pretty well with that route.
Keeping on topic, sort of, writer Peter David has written what he envisions will be inevitable South Park episode dealing with the Passion of the Christ. I like Peter David's writings, but his vision for this episode really doesn't stretch the imagination. Now, if he wrote about an episode of The Shield that dealt with the issue - that would have been something. Hmmm..
Tonight on a special episode of The Shield: Following the Los Angeles Premiere of "The Passion of the Christ", Vic and his strike team stumble upon the head of a prominent Catholic civil rights organization in a tryst with a transvestite that is (gasp) agnostic. In exchange for Mackey covering up the transgression, the malefactor agrees to sabotage Aceveda's election by labeling him a heretic and distributing pictures of him eating meat on a Friday. While at the Passion premiere, Lem and Shane strand Ronnie with repressed homosexual Julien in order to go see "Starsky & Hutch" instead.
wojr
With the overwhelming success of The Passion of the Christ, there is much talk in Hollywood about making more religious based pictures. Just like after the success of Titanic, there was a push towards historical disaster pics. Then, after Spider-Man, we were/are inundated with comic book movies. When there is money to be had, Hollywood will try to recapture lightning in a bottle. So, get ready because the Pearl Harbors and Daredevils of the biblical world are sure to be coming to a multiplex soon.
But is the success of Passion just based on the religious content? Aren't some people going just for the controversy revolving around the film? Just to be part of the cultural zeitgeist similar to the success of the Blair Witch Project? I don't know. Films with controversial religious content have never really fared well in the box office. Look at Priest, Dogma, and even The Last Temptation of Christ. All were, at best, considered a moderate financial success. (Can't you just imagine Kevin Smith railing away at Passion's grosses? "Where's my religious movie money, bi-yatch? I made Dogma. I had death threats. I wants my money. F- Mel Gibson. F- William Donohue.") Of course, all were decried by religious groups as anti-Catholic. I guess controversy is good for the wallet but only if it's directed away from Catholicism. Maybe if Hitler had gone after the Catholics, the grosses of Schindler's List would have been better.
Therefore, I guess I should start watching what I say & just rage against other groups. Like homosexuals. Eminem seems to have done pretty well with that route.
Keeping on topic, sort of, writer Peter David has written what he envisions will be inevitable South Park episode dealing with the Passion of the Christ. I like Peter David's writings, but his vision for this episode really doesn't stretch the imagination. Now, if he wrote about an episode of The Shield that dealt with the issue - that would have been something. Hmmm..
Tonight on a special episode of The Shield: Following the Los Angeles Premiere of "The Passion of the Christ", Vic and his strike team stumble upon the head of a prominent Catholic civil rights organization in a tryst with a transvestite that is (gasp) agnostic. In exchange for Mackey covering up the transgression, the malefactor agrees to sabotage Aceveda's election by labeling him a heretic and distributing pictures of him eating meat on a Friday. While at the Passion premiere, Lem and Shane strand Ronnie with repressed homosexual Julien in order to go see "Starsky & Hutch" instead.
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, Religion, Snide Remarks
Thursday, March 11, 2004
"No, Jeff Bridges was in Tron, Barry Bostwick was in Megaforce -- as ACE HUNTER"
On the way to work today, I saw two ads for "Scooby Doo 2." After some thought, I began to fell badly for all the poor parents that are going to get dragged to that train-wreck of modern cinema. All the fathers waiting desperately for Linda Cardellini to get in that skin-tight red vinyl outfit and offer them some brief respite from their 95 minute hell. Knowing full well that they cannot get that time back. Ever. That they paid good money to edge themselves 95 minutes closer to their death.
And it hits me...
I made my Dad go to some pretty crappy films as a kid. Some really bad films. I can't imagine that he took any enjoyment from the cinematic vision of Megaforce. Or took some childish glee in the adventure of Krull. And even though it has held up somewhat well, I don't think Tron was exactly the right film for my father. Hell, I'd bet 95 minutes of a computer-generated dog would have seemed like nirvana to him. Especially in the late 70s/early 80s, when the only things computer generated were those IBM punch cards.
Even the good films like Empire probably got old after a dozen viewings. But still, he took me. And look at me now - an utterly unproduced and unsuccessful screenwriter. But, my love for film was fostered by that man's willingness to sit through the crappiest films Hollywood had to offer. So to that, I say "Thanks, Dad."
Will I return the favor to my kids? HELL NO. I'm going to chain those bastards up to a computer and shove every coding language I can find down their throat. Let you idiots try to make the next Tiger out of your kids. I wants some of that Bill Gates bling-bling and I'll pimp my offspring to get it.
wojr
On the way to work today, I saw two ads for "Scooby Doo 2." After some thought, I began to fell badly for all the poor parents that are going to get dragged to that train-wreck of modern cinema. All the fathers waiting desperately for Linda Cardellini to get in that skin-tight red vinyl outfit and offer them some brief respite from their 95 minute hell. Knowing full well that they cannot get that time back. Ever. That they paid good money to edge themselves 95 minutes closer to their death.
And it hits me...
I made my Dad go to some pretty crappy films as a kid. Some really bad films. I can't imagine that he took any enjoyment from the cinematic vision of Megaforce. Or took some childish glee in the adventure of Krull. And even though it has held up somewhat well, I don't think Tron was exactly the right film for my father. Hell, I'd bet 95 minutes of a computer-generated dog would have seemed like nirvana to him. Especially in the late 70s/early 80s, when the only things computer generated were those IBM punch cards.
Even the good films like Empire probably got old after a dozen viewings. But still, he took me. And look at me now - an utterly unproduced and unsuccessful screenwriter. But, my love for film was fostered by that man's willingness to sit through the crappiest films Hollywood had to offer. So to that, I say "Thanks, Dad."
Will I return the favor to my kids? HELL NO. I'm going to chain those bastards up to a computer and shove every coding language I can find down their throat. Let you idiots try to make the next Tiger out of your kids. I wants some of that Bill Gates bling-bling and I'll pimp my offspring to get it.
wojr
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
wojr.com - your insipid source for news
I really don't need a judge to tell me this. But, now that Martha is taken care of, can we go after Joe Francis next?
Two snippets from eonline.com:
PLAYING THE FIELD: Angelina Jolie telling the New York Post that she's currently sleeping with men with whom she's close friends and is not seeking a serious relationship. "As crazy as it sounds, meeting a man in a hotel room for a few hours and then going back and putting my son to bed and not seeing that man again for a few months is about what I can handle now," she said. Snide quasi-metrosexual comment #1: I guess her brother was out of town.
IN SIGHT: J.Lo inking a development deal with Fox giving them first look rights to any TV projects coming out of her shingle, Nuyorican Productions, report the trades. "I started in television and love the medium," Lopez said in a statement. "We intend to be a major creative force in television." Snide quasi-metrosexual comment #2: Started in television? She was a FLY GIRL.
And for those that were wondering, the definition of Nuyorican.
For the geeks like me: Scott Tipton turns his attention to Batman: The Animated Series.
For geeks bigger than me: Well, just look and see.
And as a follow-up to my earlier rant, more body-snatching information.
wojr
I really don't need a judge to tell me this. But, now that Martha is taken care of, can we go after Joe Francis next?
Two snippets from eonline.com:
PLAYING THE FIELD: Angelina Jolie telling the New York Post that she's currently sleeping with men with whom she's close friends and is not seeking a serious relationship. "As crazy as it sounds, meeting a man in a hotel room for a few hours and then going back and putting my son to bed and not seeing that man again for a few months is about what I can handle now," she said. Snide quasi-metrosexual comment #1: I guess her brother was out of town.
IN SIGHT: J.Lo inking a development deal with Fox giving them first look rights to any TV projects coming out of her shingle, Nuyorican Productions, report the trades. "I started in television and love the medium," Lopez said in a statement. "We intend to be a major creative force in television." Snide quasi-metrosexual comment #2: Started in television? She was a FLY GIRL.
And for those that were wondering, the definition of Nuyorican.
For the geeks like me: Scott Tipton turns his attention to Batman: The Animated Series.
For geeks bigger than me: Well, just look and see.
And as a follow-up to my earlier rant, more body-snatching information.
wojr
Labels: Comic Books, Hollywood, News, Snide Remarks
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
"Guaranteed for a Chuckle"
I know why we can't find Osama - look at this picture - Bastard's in Middle-Earth - "Po-tay-toes. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. Even you couldn't say no to that."
This one is from last month, but it took me a while to find it again. "You're a naughty one. What are we going to do with you?"
Trying hard to come up with a funny intro for this one. So far, all I have is "Funny part is their office is on the 30th floor."
And here's one that needs no caption from NewsAskew.com.
wojr
I know why we can't find Osama - look at this picture - Bastard's in Middle-Earth - "Po-tay-toes. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. Even you couldn't say no to that."
This one is from last month, but it took me a while to find it again. "You're a naughty one. What are we going to do with you?"
Trying hard to come up with a funny intro for this one. So far, all I have is "Funny part is their office is on the 30th floor."
And here's one that needs no caption from NewsAskew.com.
wojr
Monday, March 08, 2004
"For Artistic Reasons, I kept the Judas jokes to a minimum."
I don't think tonight is going to be a big a TV night in the wojr household. Too much work to do. But the programming being offered is intriguing to say the least.
You could tune in ABC to see the TV Movie "Judas." (I bet the folks at Disney are loving all the Mel Gibson/"Passion" frenzy. "Come over to ABC and check out the less than bloody version of events - for FREE!")
Or you could go over to NBC and watch "Behind the Camera: Charlie's Angels." I will be honest. Based on the one ad I saw for it - I am tempted. Some actress doing a mean vocal impersonation of Kate Jackson's sexy voice. Wallace Langham pimped out in the sleazy 70s gear as Farrah's opportunistic hustler of a manager.
Then, I read this-
According to EONLINE.com:
"NBC cutting the final scene in its upcoming Charlie's Angels TV movie after Farrah Fawcett's former manager threatened legal action for being portrayed as an oportunistic [sic] hustler. The network claims the ending was altered was [sic] artistic reasons."
Does anyone ever believe it when they use "artistic reasons" as the excuse? Just say, "out of fear of litigation from an opportunistic hustler, we edited the show." (And who's spell-checking shit over at E!? Maybe they call it E! because entertainment is too hard to spell.)
wojr
I don't think tonight is going to be a big a TV night in the wojr household. Too much work to do. But the programming being offered is intriguing to say the least.
You could tune in ABC to see the TV Movie "Judas." (I bet the folks at Disney are loving all the Mel Gibson/"Passion" frenzy. "Come over to ABC and check out the less than bloody version of events - for FREE!")
Or you could go over to NBC and watch "Behind the Camera: Charlie's Angels." I will be honest. Based on the one ad I saw for it - I am tempted. Some actress doing a mean vocal impersonation of Kate Jackson's sexy voice. Wallace Langham pimped out in the sleazy 70s gear as Farrah's opportunistic hustler of a manager.
Then, I read this-
According to EONLINE.com:
"NBC cutting the final scene in its upcoming Charlie's Angels TV movie after Farrah Fawcett's former manager threatened legal action for being portrayed as an oportunistic [sic] hustler. The network claims the ending was altered was [sic] artistic reasons."
Does anyone ever believe it when they use "artistic reasons" as the excuse? Just say, "out of fear of litigation from an opportunistic hustler, we edited the show." (And who's spell-checking shit over at E!? Maybe they call it E! because entertainment is too hard to spell.)
wojr
Labels: Hollywood, News, Religion, Snide Remarks
