Friday, September 21, 2007

DVR, I think I love you.

It’s a well-known fact that I’m not a big TV person.

With the exception of Survivor, LOST, The Office, Entourage and Mad Men – that’s about it. I gave up on The Simpsons and Family Guy a long time ago. I said aloha (good-bye, not hello) to Friends reruns, Mtv and all the crappy VH1 reality shit.

My mantra has always been: Give me a bad movie in place of a stupid TV sitcom and I’m in heaven.

That is, until I found DVR.

Since our move to Bath, Ohio, we switched cable companies to Time Warner. In addition we transformed our basement into this cool, awesome media center complete with movie posters, flat-screen TV and a metal table with stools.

Like I said, Awesome! (Well, in my world it is.)

Our cable company dropped off a new cable box that accepts High-definition TV and offers DVR.

The high-definition is great, but the DVR is awesome. I simply go through the viewing guide, pick the shows I want to watch and select them to record. The rest is pure magic.

Like I said, I really don’t watch that much TV. And I can’t stand having to be home in time to watch a TV show. If I’m home, then fine. I’ll watch the show. But, I’m never, ever going to schedule my life around a fucking TV.

But, with DVR, I can record documentaries and cool cartoons that I never thought I’d be able to watch. Now, shows like Futurama, Robot Chicken, Survivorman, Man vs. Wild, The Deadliest Catch, various UFO and Bigfoot documentaries and Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations are now mine for the viewing, or recording.

And I don't think I need to talk about the commercials. "What commericials?" you ask? EXACTLY.
PLUS, if the baby is crying, I need to pinch a loaf or I have to run up to grab a beer out of the fridge, I can simply hit -PAUSE - and that's that!

And this opens a whole new world to viewing movies. You know, I like to rank my movies in three different ways:
1.) Movies that I must see in the theater.
2.) Movies I must see on DVD.
3.) Movies that I want to see, but I don't really want to pay for, so I'll watch them on TV.

With DVR, I can finally catch all of those Category 3 movies such as Snakes on a Plane, My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Just My Luck and Feast. Plus, with Halloween right around the corner, I can practically record every Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th and Halloween movie with the touch of a button.

Even last night at 3 a.m., I scheduled a recording of Death Hunt with Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin on AMC. I haven't seen that flick since 1981, at the drive-in! I can't wait to get my eyeballs on that one. And it wouldn't have happened without my DVR.

I can even tape Little Einstein, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and old Sesame Street episodes for my 15-month old daughter to watch.

It's especially going to be great with a newborn in the house.

Now, when I come home and have to keep a close eye on the little one(s) while they're sleeping. I don’t have to watch garbage like Nanny 911, Wife Swap or Caveman. Now, I can simply go to my various recordings and crack open a beer.

Remember the movie Gladiator when Russel Crow screamed out to the crowd "Are you entertained?".

Yes, Russell Crow. I am!

Some people will say I’m selling out to TV. Some people will say I’m gay. Some people will yell at me and tell me to play Scrabble. Some people will say why don’t you spend that time and interact with your family. Some people will call me an asshole. Maybe so, but at least I’m finally watching some quality programming on my own terms.

Why even this week I have the DVR set to record the Ohio State/Northwestern game on Saturday so I can watch it when I get home from the hospital.

Thanks to my DVR. I won’t be flipping through 500 channels looking for some shit to watch. Because now I call the shots, mother fucker.

Oh wait! An episode of America's Next Top Model is on.

No worries. My DVR is catching that one too!

EIMER NOTE: For the Love of God Help Me!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Peruvian Invasion of the Body Snatchers

On Monday, villagers in southern Peru were struck by a mysterious illness after a meteorite crashed to the Earth in their area. Read the Yahoo Story here.

Rescue teams and experts hightailed it to the scene, where they found a crater measuring 100 foot x 20 foot long. There were also reports of boiling water and gas seeping out of the crater and particles of rock and cinders were found nearby. Residents also complained of headaches and vomiting brought on by a "strange odor" seeping from the debris.

Don't know about you, but it sounds reminiscent of The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verril - one of the stories in the film Creepshow where the main character (played by Stephen King) finds a meteor, touches it and - eventually - turns into a plant.

Let's just say I'm keeping my eye on this story.

Because if C.H.U.D.'s start coming out of the woodwork in Peru, it's time to run for the hills.

A BW3 Story

Lots of things happen at BW3. Here's a little story that happened to me.

A couple years ago, I was walking into a BW3 in Columbus, Ohio, for a bite to eat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of my neighborhood friends standing at the bar. He was with a group of guys waiting to order a beer.

My first instinct was to turn around and walk out of the place. I just wanted to hang out, eat some wings, drink some beer and watch some NFL football, han solo.

But, before I could make my move, he turned his head, noticed me, did a double take. Then smiled.

"Eimer, good buddy," he yelled as the group of hard-livin' guys looked over as well. "What have you been up to?"

After exchanging pleasantries and catching up on everything. He asked me to hang out with his crew, watch the Pittsburgh Steelers game and drink some beer.

"Why not?" I thought to myself. "What could possibly go wrong?"

We were in every class together until eighth grade. In addition to that, we also were next-door neighbors (if you consider ½ mile as next-door) and battled each other in numerous competitive games of kickball, football and baseball in my front yard.

After I headed off to college, we sort of lost touch. I moved to Columbus, he stayed in the Ohio Valley. Eventually, he made his way up to Columbus and became a very successful contractor.

A couple quarters of football passed and a couple 24-ounce beers also traveled down my gullet. We were having a good time and, to be honest, I was glad that I had a chance to catch up with my childhood, kickball friend.

That was, until my buddy took off to take a leak.

After a couple of minutes, he burst from the the men's room and rushed over to the table with this wide, shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hey guys, I almost forgot." he yelled pointing in my direction. "This is the guy I was talking about. Remember? From elementary school."

I had no clue what he was a talking about. I looked around the table thinking that maybe he was talking about somebody else.

This big, burly guy on my right (with arms as big as telephone poles I should add) spit beer out of his mouth and started to cackle.

Then he looked down at me with the same shit-eating grin on his face.

"You mean, this is the guy who pulled his pants all the way down to his ankles when he peed?"

"Yeah," my supposed-buddy said. "This is the guy I was talking about!"

They all started howling with laughter - at my expense.

"You still do that?" One of the other guys asked. "Pull your pants down to your ankles when you piss?"

"Yeah," I joked along. "As a matter of fact, I’m going to do that right now."

As I headed to the bathroom. They all started to cackle in unison.

I felt a little embarrassed. A little shocked. In fact, part of me wanted to run out of the BW3. But I held it together, threw some water on my face, took a piss and returned to the howls of laughter at the table.

"How was it piss boy?" One guy yelled. "Did you get any yellow stuff on your ankles?"

For the next hour or so, I was the butt of everyone's piss joke.

Ahhhh, great times. Great times

First off, I didn't pull my pants down to my ankles when I took a pee at Hilltop Elementary. Well, maybe not. To be honest, I can’t really fucking remember! But, I bet a lot of kids in elementary school did the same thing.

Secondly, more than 30+ years have passed and the only thing this guy remembers is my kindergarten bathroom peeing habits? Plus, he's telling his construction guys about it?!!?

I don’t know about you but that sounds a little bit gay to me.

For the record, I'll have you know that I don't pull my pants all the way to my ankles when I pee.

Everyone knows I drop my them to my knees.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Six Pieces of Proof That Bigfoot Lives.

Perhaps the most widely viewed piece of Big Foot footage is the Patterson piece. It's on t-shirts. It's faked on more than 1,000 You-Tube videos. It's the image everyone sees in their mind when they think of Big Foot. It's also the most plausible piece of footage that Bigfoot exists.

On October 20, 1967, Roger Patterson and Robert Gimlin were in Northern California when they spotted a mysterious furry figure behind an overturned tree. Patterson's horse reared at the sight (or smell) of the beast. Thus, it took about twenty seconds for Patterson to hop off his horse, get his camera and run toward the figure in full journalism/paparazzi mode. And where was Gimlin the entire time? Apparantly, trying to set his rifle sights on the hairy creature. (Although some naysayers believe Gimlin was inside the Bigfoot outfit.) The entire encounter only lasted a total of two minutes, but the legend of Bigfoot still lives on thanks to Patterson's handy cinematography.

View the infamous Patterson footage right here.

Les Stroud, writer, producer, cinematographer of the hit Discovery Science show Survivorman was filming a show in the Alaskan Wilderness. On Day Five of his journey, he awoke to a "very loud grunting noise from about fifty yards away". He said it sounded nothing like a bear, but a LARGE GORILLA. Very interesting indeed. I would trust this man who has hiked, camped and slept in almost every condition (including gorilla-filled jungles and grizzly-filled rockies) to know the difference between a bear and a gorilla sound. Plus, the guy has a lot to lose by leading his viewers on that he heard a Bigfoot in the Alaskan Wilderness. Looking forward to hearing this when the show airs - I'm thinking on Season 3.

Click here to read the Survivorman Blog about his Alaskan trip and the Day 5 incident.

Just like we talk on our cellphone in a car, yell to a bartender for a drink or say "Like..." before every sentence, Bigfoots also have their very own unique way of 'talking' to each other. But, instead of dialing a friend on the latest, greatest, trendy I-Phone, they reach out and touch someone with good, old-fashioned tree knocks and howls. Just like our caveman ancestors used to do.

Click here to listen to's extensive collection of tree knocks and howls. Good stuff.

In 1994, Bigfoot hunter and plastercaster Paul Freeman captured video of a Big Foot in the Blue Mountains area of Washington state. The footage, of a female Bigfoot nurturing her young, is considered to be authentic by some Bigfoot sites, including, but its low resolution has some people doubting whether it was a Bigfoot or not.

In addition, it's been rumored that Freeman hoaxed photos and videos. He even admitted on national television to forging some of his Bigfoot footprints. Thus, much of his sightings, videos, photos etc. are held suspect in the eyes of many believers. But not to this Bigfoot enthusiast.

View the Paul Freeman Video Here.

On August 28, 1995, a TV film crew from Waterland Productions stopped by the side of the road to check out the beautiful Redwoods National Forest. Out of the periphery of the headlights, the driver of the vehicle yelled out "Look! It's a fucking bear." Immediately, the eager cameraman swung into action and turned on his camera. At first, it appeared to be a shaggy grizzly bear, then someone else recognized it for what it really was - a Sasquatch. Panic ensued, but not before the camera dude got a couple shots, including the approaching creature and it's right leg as it moseys back into the dense forest.

Plus, for all the ladies out there, you finally get to see some BIGFOOT COCK. See that little thing piece of meat flap up in the video at the beginning? Many believe it's an excited male bigfoot looking for a little T & A.

Click here to see the actual, grainy Redwoods film.

Then, click here to see a slower version.


After a day of fishing, drinking and partying on Memorial Day 1996, a group of seven people were heading back to their campsite in Loomis, Washington, when they saw this thing on a hillside clearing about 75 yards away. Suddenly, the creature stood up and darted towards the woods. One of the guys yelled ot his old lady to grab a camcorder from the car. About 2 to 3 minutes later, the Bigfoot appeared. Coincidentally(?), by that time, it was about 100 yards up the side of another mountain.

With video camera on, the amateur cinematographer caught the creature running across the hillside, jumping a ravine and sauntering into the thick of the woods. In addition to the video 'proof' of the creature, the reason that this particular sighting is in the top six is the number of possible people that saw the creature - about 30 due to other fisherman and nearby campers.

Click here to see Run, Bigfoot, Run.

So there you have it. The six pieces of evidence that Bigfoot lives. Take it or leave it.

With cellphone video phones, a whole generation of amateur cinematographers not to mention cameras that can catch a booger hanging from a person's nose 100 yards away, I'm convinced that sooner or later we'll have some great footage of a Bigfoot surface in the next 10 or so years.

So when you're visiting your Great Aunt Bertha at her house in the woods, keep scanning the countryside. Because maybe, just maybe, you'll shoot what so many people have failed to capture this century:

A Genuine Photo of Bigfoot That's Actually In Focus.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Tell Me You Love Me (and my hairy balls)

So, I just finished watching this new show on HBO called Tell Me You Love Me.

In the first one-hour episode I saw no less than two separate nut sacks, tons of titties, nude women, nude dudes, a guy going down on a girl, guy ass, girl ass, tons of pubic hair, a lady in stirrups, a quickie at a parent’s house, a car bang, a drunken couple bang, two penis (or is it peni?), a guy masturbating in bed, an erect cock, a hand-job, a woman checking out her husband’s sperm and an old lady sucking off her old husband. Whew!

It was a very titillating experience to say the least. Basically, it felt like I was watching a full-blown porno, but with talented actors, a creative director, a budget and a decent screenwriter.

And although I had a semi in my pants during most of the sex parts (excluding the old folks), the series is too much of a downer to actually get your rocks off. So, all you horn dogs are better off just renting a porno at your local adult video store.

Amidst all the banging and bodily-fluid sharing there is a story line as well: Three different couples are going through three separate types of intimacy problems concerning their relationships. One couple can’t have a kid. One couple hasn’t had sex in more than a year. And another couple uses sex as a diversion so they won’t have to face their real problems. Oh yeah, all three couples are also seeing the same marriage counselor, which brings the whole thing together.

All dirty sex aside, it's an interesting series. Plus, it's nice to see HBO taking another risque chance. But, the only thing that bothers me is that I'm afraid the show will ‘blow its wad' too fast (much like myself when I was 17 years old) and become a one-trick pony of gratuitous sex, ass bobbing up-and-down and (gulp!) hairy balls.

So with that in mind, I think I'm going to stay tuned for another couple episodes and see what happens.

At the very least, I'll get to see the nude hot bods of Sonya Walger (Desmond's girlfriend on Lost) and Michelle Borth.

Hey! I'm just being honest. And you should too. Check out Episode 2 this Sunday on HBO at 9 p.m. and tell me what you think.

Thursday Cartoon Day - ROADKILL

Well, I wanted to get back to cartooning, so last night I had some time and decided to get cracking. With a kid, another one due in a week, a 9-to-5 job, a lawn to mow (did I mention I have a riding lawn mower?), I think one or two cartoons a week is a good start to get the rust off and get back into action.

Sooo, introducing Thursday Cartoon Day! Every Thursday, I'll try to get at least one new never-before-seen cartoon in front of your eyeballs.

Until I get an official Web site up and running (in ohhhh about 10 years) I'll just post my new toons here. Plus, I'll try to add some of my old ones to entries that warrant an old cartoon. We'll see how it turns out.

As I was drawing the above Roadkill Cartoon last night, here was my thought process (in order):

- "This is a great idea. I'm so funny."
- "Eh, this isn't such a great idea."
- "Not sure if people will get this."
- "Hey, at least its got pretty colors."

That said, if you get this... Congratulations! If not, well go easy, they'll get better. At least I hope they will.

I feel like a rusty quarterback getting his arm back after a long off-season.

EIMER UPDATE: I showed this cartoon to my girlfriend on September 16 and she mentioned that it would've been better had you seen the car in the distance with the same license plate. And that the animal should still be alive and the Park Ranger should totally be taken out of the cartoon all together. After mulling it over, I tend to agree. Oh well, back to the drawing board. Well see if my next cartoon is better.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

What Up Michigan?

It's got to be a pretty depressing time to be a Michigan Wolverines fan.

It's the first time since 1959 that the Wolverines have opened a season with two straight losses at home. That's 48 years!

To put things in perspective, Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone premiered on television, Charlton Heston's Ben-Hur won 11 Academy Awards and John McEnroe and Weird Al’ Yankovic were born in 1959.

Plus, dating back to last season, they’ve dropped four straight for the first time in four decades. The 32-point loss to Oregon was Michigan's worst since losing 50-14 at Ohio State in 1968 (yeah!), the season before Bo Schembechler's debut in Ann Arbor.

The really weird thing is that Michigan was picked as the team to get it done this year. Maybe even win the national championship. Personally, by seeing the talent pool back from last year, I was sure Michigan would roll, virtually uncontested, in every single game. To be honest, I don't think anyone saw this coming, including Ohio State fans.

Granted, I think Oregon is a pretty good team. I’m convinced that their quarterback has a chance to be considered for the Heisman if he has (I don’t know) nine more games like the one he played against Michigan. Appalachian State is a good team as well. But, well, they're Appalachian State.

As an Ohio State alumn, Big Ten supporter and Buckeyes fan, I’m not too sure how I feel. One could say I should be happy, kicking my heels together, that the Wolverines are getting it handed to them every week. But, I’m not.

I’m from the school of thought that I want Michigan to have the highest possible ranking and the most wins under their belt when they face Ohio State at the end of the year. I don't know about you, but it's always more fun to watch a high-ranked Wolverines team (full of hope and vigor) get blasted from atop their Big Ten perch by a Scarlet and Gray helmet.


Although the season is young, I could see Penn State and Wisconsin making some noise in the Big Ten. Ohio State's got both of them back-to-back on October 27 and November 3, which should be interesting. I'm also still looking forward the Wisconsin/Michigan game on November 10, which I thought would've been the Game of the Year in the Big Ten.

And who knows? After a Mike Hart guaranteed victory over Notre Dame on Saturday, maybe Michigan will get their shit together this week, and proceed to roll in the Big Ten.

In any event, when the 0-2 Wolverines square up against the 0-2 Irish, I’ll be pulling for the blue. Then, I'll root for them to win again. And again. And again. Until the Buckeyes head to the Big House on November 17.

In fact, I think that's the only day I won't be rooting for a Michigan win.

With that last comment in mind, check out the following story about a Texas fan getting his penis almost ripped off by a Oklahoma fan.

Looks like our fans aren't the only rabid college football fans in the nation.

Monday, September 10, 2007

I'm Not Sure I Want My Mtv VMAs.

Remember back in the day when Paul Ruebens (aka Pee-wee Herman) got busted for pulling out his pee-wee in a porn theater?

A couple weeks later, he made an appearance on the Mtv Video Music Awards with his classic "Heard any good jokes lately?" intro.

In my opinion, it was a great public relations move on Pew-Wee's part. Don't hide from the media and your arrest. Embrace it and go on Mtv.

That said, I heard Britney Spears was going to make her big comeback by opening the 2007 Mtv Music Awards.

It was almost showtime, so I eagerly grabbed the remote.

Maybe a little too eager.

"What are you watching," my girlfriend asked.

"The Video Music Awards are on tonight," I said. "Britney Spears is the opening act and..."

Then I stopped mid-sentence. The sarcastic, wise-ass look on my girlfriend's face said it all.

Look, I'll admit it's a little gay to want to watch Britney Spears open up the VMAs. But, I really don't care. I'm a pop-culture-type-of-guy that's up for witnessing any type of fun entertainment. I caught the Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake tit thing during the Superbowl. I watched Martin Bashir's Michael Jackson special a couple years back. I even saw the Oprah one. I even checked out the Geraldo Rivera satan-worshipping thing back in the 80's.

So, although I'm not a true fan, I guess you can call me a spectator in what's going on with Britney Spears nowadays. Plus, I heard she was going to do some kick-ass illusions with David Copperfield wanna-be Criss Angel.

Hey, what else there to do on Sunday night? Count me in!

check out Ms. Spears performance right here.

So how was it, you ask? Well, it sucked. In addition to not even singing, her lip-synching was terrible. Her dance routine wasn't that great (and I'm not even a good judge of dance routines). And where was the magic? The only magic happening that night was witnessing a dancing zombie - boobs and all - in the twilight of her career. Some people were saying she looked fat. I don't know about that. In fact, I'll be the first to admit she looked pretty hot. At times, she just stopped singing as if she knew that this whole ting just wasn't working out. The look on 50-cent's face in the audience was priceless. To be honest, I felt a little sorry for her.

Well, not really.

In all honesty, I think this is the official Jump The Shark-phase for Ms. Spears. Oh, don't get me wrong, I think she'll be back. She needs to take about five or six years off, then pick up a guitar and make an acoustic album a la' Sheryl Crow, Alanis Morrisette or Neko Case.

But, as far as the bubble-gum dance shit is concerned, you can stick a fork in her, because she's done.

I don't know what it is about the VMA's, but they're always fun to watch. There are tons of drinking, tons of sexual innuendos and tons of scantily-clad ladies bumping and grinding with other scantily-clad ladies.

It's like a big party is going on and everyone is invited...except for you.

I also thought it was pretty ingenious to have Justin Timberlake and Timbaland, Kanye West, Fall Out Boy and the Foo Fighters host separate suite parties at the hotel. That looked like a lot fun from my sofa in Bath, Ohio.

Plus, you never know what's going to happen. For instance, the Kid Rock/Tommy Lee fisticuffs was just one of the highlights of the show. Or at least that's what I heard.

With the exception of the Spears opening, I really didn't watch the whole thing. I was clicking back and forth between the Curb Your Enthusiasm marathon, the Cowboys/Giants game, the VMAs and my 10 other HBO channels.

Then I was trying to think back when I just didn't want my Mtv anymore.

I'm not really sure, but I think it was sometime between 1998 and 2000 when Limp Bizkit's "Nookie" was the #1 video on TRL.

I dunno, mowing the lawn and/or cleaning out the garage seems more important than wondering if 50-Cent or Kanye West will gross the most record sales next week.

Hey, at least I'm not as old as Kurt Loder - he just turned 62.

Friday, September 7, 2007

35 jobs in 35 years.

I was driving to work today and thinking about the many different jobs I've had.

I thought I'd write them down and share them with the world (or, at least, the 15 people that check this site out every so often).

Then I got to thinking that it would be fun to share a couple crazy stories about each job I've had. Then I really got to thinking that each job could be a chapter which, in turn, could turn into a book.

What fun! Maybe I'll tackle this idea sometime down the line.

In any event, here are my 35 jobs. Keep in mind, that if I worked for someone in turn for payment it was a job. So, even if I didn't pay taxes on it, I still consider it a job.

1. Flower Delivery – 10 years old
2. Lawn-Mowing – 12-14 years old
3. House Painting Jobs - 10 - 16 years old
4. Back Cook at Hardee’s - 16-years old
5. Bagger, Buggy Getter, Cashier at Big Bear - 17-18 years old
6. Dishwasher/Busboy - 18 years old
7. Busboy - 18 years old
8. Factory Worker at Budget Gourmet - 19 years old
9. Construction Work for my Grandpa – 19 years old
10. Popsicle Boxer - 19 years old
11. Bagger & Meat Department – 19-21 years old
12. OSU Scoreboard Operator – 21 - 24 years old
13. Mowing/Landscaping Crew - 22-23 years old
14. Animator - 24 -27 years old
15. Painting Prices on Car Windows - 25years old
16. House Painting - 25-26 years old
17. Window Washer - 26 years old
18. Reseter (i.e. shelf re-arranger) - 26 - 30 years old
19. Cookie Stocker - 27 years old
20. Marketing Rep/Manager - 27-30
21. Reseter (another company) - 28 years old
22. Freelance Cartoonist - 28 -present
23. Sports Reporter/Photographer – 28 - 31-years old
24. Freelance Reporter/Photographer - 28-31 years old
25. Valet - 30 -33 years old
26. Bartender/Server - 30 -33 years old
27. Copywriter Job #1 - 31-33 years old
28. Paper Sorter, Boxer, Printing Work - 34-years old
29. Bartender/Server - 34-years old
30. Freelance Copywriter - 33-present
31. Copywriter Job #2 - 34 years old
32. Copywriter Job #3- 34 years old
33. Copywriter Job #4 - 34 years old
34. Landscaping work - 34 years old
35. Copywriter Job #5 - 34-present

Whew! There you go - 35 jobs in 35 years. Either the economy sucks or I'm just not that hard of a worker. Eh? Maybe it's both.

The crazy time was when I was 34 years old. I had a total of EIGHT different jobs (not counting freelance clients) due to my move from Columbus to Cleveland. That's seven different tax forms.

Below are some BONUS JOBS that I included. Technically, they're not really jobs, but it was required work to pay off some sort of debt to society or make some extra money:

* 100 hours of community service (destruction of private property)
* 24 hours of community service (underage drinking)
* Sold stuff on E-bay
* Sold DVDs and CDs back to CD companies in college

Now I'm curious, how many jobs have you had?

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Is Natalie Portman Nude in Her Next Movie?

I was checking out, when I came across a little tidbit concerning Natalie Portman.

There's a 12-minute short, with Portman and Jason Schwartzman, that's supposed to run before Wes Anderson's new movie The Darjeeling Limited.

Turns out, she might be nude in it.

Slashfilm has some quotes from an early review of the movie and short including this little gem:

"Schwartzmann gently pulls off Portman’s clothes to reveal her naked body from behind, and a later shot has Portman, nude, standing still in a doorway, one foot up against the frame. It’s the sexiest thing that Anderson has ever done."

Aintitcool news just posted a review that mirrors the same thing:

"Natalie Portman shows a surprising amount of flesh considering. She is completely naked and is shown from behind and the side. You see her body is covered in bruises but you never find out why."

Very saucy stuff, indeed.

Now I don't know about you, but I've always enjoyed Natalie Portman as an actress. I loved her in Beautiful Girls, especially when she was flirting with Timothy Hutton's character. I liked her in the movie Anywhere But Here with Susan Sarandon. I also enjoyed her in Closer (where she does a brief striptease dance for Clive Owen) and Zach Braff's first flick Garden State (when she's in the pool in a bathing suit).

As she gets a bit older, she reminds me of an Americanized Audrey Tatou from the movie Amelie. Besides the Star Wars trilogy, it seems, as of late, she's tackling more heady stuff including V for Vendatta, My Blueberry Nights, The Other Boleyn Girl and this 12-minute short.

I dunno. I guess there's not too much more to say besides the fact that knowing this little bit of information may get you off your butt to see this art-house flick.

Even if you don't like Wes Anderson's work, you can go out, buy a ticket, watch the 12-minute short, see her naked and then leave.

No harm. No foul. Right?

I remember when people did the exact same thing in 1989 when they bought a ticket to go see Clint Eastwood's Pink Cadillac just to see the new trailer for Tim Burton's Batman flick.

Yep, I was one of them.

Why Do Porn Stars Smile All The Time?

I was listening to a porn star on the radio today. She was all giddy and giggly and talking about her career. Her life. Her loves. Her fame.

Then it occurred to me that I’ve never, ever, seen an unhappy porn star.

In interviews they’re always smiling. Always happy. Always bubbly in a ‘tee-hee’ sort of way.

They’re the type of girls your mom doesn’t want you to hang out with. But, they’re so happy and so positive they are the ‘cool’ people to hang out with at a party. Even the porn-star dudes have this perma-smile on their face.

I wonder why?

Perhaps they’re happy with the money? Maybe they’re getting a lot of action and are on a total orgasm-high? Maybe they’re finally free of all the clutter that weighs down the ‘normal’ 9-to-5 working person with dogs to walk, babies to change and bills to pay?

I have no fucking clue.

There was this scene in the movie Diner, where two of the lead actors are riding in a car and they come along this beautiful lady riding a horse. Her beautiful mansion can be seen in the backdrop.

She smiles at them. They look at her in awe as she bolts towards her mansion. Then they stop the car, get out and Mickey Rourke’s characters says:

“Do you ever get the feeling that there's something going on that we don't know about?”

That’s how I feel about porn stars.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Perfume: This Movie Doesn't Stink.

Being a guy, It's really hard for me to get excited about a movie when it's named Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.

The title brings thoughts of beautiful women - circa the time of Marie Antoinette - spraying themselves with perfume and giggling about men all the while rolling around in a plush bed in nothing but their cotton panties.

Well, come to think of it, that doesn't sound too bad either.

In any event, I rented the movie twice before at Blockbuster. And twice I returned it after seven days of collecting dust on the top of my DVD player.

Time and time again, I just couldn't bring myself to watch it. I just thought I'd be bored out of my skull.

So imagine my surprise when I reluctantly rented it for a third time, popped it in the DVD player and, finally, watched it this past Sunday.

In short, it's one of the most original, creative movies I've seen in some time.

The movie is about this guy, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, who is born - very graphically - in the stench of 18th-century Paris. Due to the nasty smells around him, he develops this superior sense of smell, which he uses to create the world's finest perfumes.

That's the first part of the movie.

The second part of the movie takes a turn for the morbid as he tries to create the ultimate perfume by preserving the various scents of beautiful women. Beautiful dead women.

I don't want to give away the ending. If you read the book, I'm sure it's the exact same way. But it's an insanly perfect ending to a beautifully creepy movie. To be honest, I couldn't think of any other way wrap up the movie up so tightly.

After watching the movie - which starred Dustin Hoffman and Alan Rickman (of Harry Potter Snape fame) - the credits started to roll and I recognized the name of the director, Tom Tykwer.

I remembered the name, but I couldn't put a finger on the previous movie he directed. So I rushed over to IMDB and typed in his name.

Turns out, it was Run Lola Run.

I haven't really been keeping tabs on Tykwer's work since the success of Run Lola Run. I knew he did The Princess and the Warrior, starring the girl who played Lola, which I didn't see. (Once again, I rented it, but never watched it). Then he made this other movie called Heaven, which I've never even heard of.

He also directed a short in Paris Je t'aime, which is a movie comprised of 10 minute shorts directed by the best in the business including the Coen Brothers, Wes Craven, Gus Van Sant among others. He's also in pre-production for another movie called The International starring Clive Owen and Naomi Watts.

Coincidentally, Perfume's cinematographer - Frank Griebe - has worked on all of Tykwer's movies. He does some pretty amazing, and creative, stuff with the lens in both movies.

I'm not sure if there's a moral to this story. I guess it would be don't judge a movie by its title -or its cover for that matter. Because you never know what you're going to get.

Also, this movie makes me want to get reacquianted with some of his other work.

The sad thing was, on Sunday, when I rented this movie, all eight copies of Perfume were available and accounted for.

Then I glanced over at Wild Hogs, the God-awful biker comedy with Tim Allen, John Travolta, William H. Macy and Martin Lawrence. About 30 copies were missing from the shelves.

Surprised? I'm not.

Some will say it's boring. Some will say it's weird. Some will say it's the stupidest movie they've every seen. Some will say it's too long.

All I can say is put down that copy of Wild Hogs and take this movie for a test drive instead.

Who knows? You may be pleasantly surprised.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

The Mystery of The Turd

From birth to four-years old, I really have no memories . None. Zip. Nada. Nothing.

It was either science-fiction author Isaac Asimov or comic book artist John Byrne who claimed to remember being born. He even gave a detailed description of the operating room, people in the room, the colors of the wall and what exactly transpired after he came out of the womb.

Pretty crazy. I'm not really sure if that's the norm or not. But, I can't remember a single thing, until 1976 when I started kindergarten at Hilltop Elementary School on Colerain Pike.

In fact, I can remember this one Kinder-story like it just happened yesterday:

It was recess and I was hanging out with my classmates on the playground. I really wouldn’t call them friends yet because I barely knew them. (And what the hell would we talk about anyway? Probably jibberish.)

Anyhow, this one kid - Russell - started dancing around and holding his butt. "I gotta go." he screamed to no one in particular. Then, without warning, he unbuttoned his cord pants, pulled them down around his ankles and plopped out a turd right on the playground cement.

The kids around him started laughing. I was pretty shocked. I looked around for teachers. They didn’t notice. Even so, I got nervous.

Suddenly one of the giggling kids, Jason, went over to the turd, picked it up and dropped it into an open classroom window. Not our kindergarten classroom, mind you. But a grown-up classroom on the other side of the school. First Grade.

All the kids scattered like they just threw a grenade into a foxhole. I took off as well. (I wasn't stupid). But, for the remainder of recess, I just stared intently at the turd window. "Did I do something wrong?" my guilt-ridden mind asked myself over and over as the recess bell rang and we entered the building.

It was music time and we were getting ready to sing a hearty rendition of BINGO. When, all of a sudden, Hilltop's first-grade teacher burst into the room. This old bag of bones looked like she passed up on retirement and was heading straight to death. She wore these nylon stockings that would roll down her boney ankles. And she would always wear those 1950’s housemother dresses you see on Leave it To Beaver or The Andy Griffith Show. They were pastel green and always dirty. It looked like she hand-washed all of her clothes.

But right at the moment, I wasn't focusing on our first-grade teacher's dress habits. The thing that caught my attention on this particular day was the sloppy, brown turd dangling in her hand. It was Russell's turd.

And she wasn't holding it with a paper towel or a rag? No, that would be too sanitary. Instead, she held the turd in her bare hand for all the world to see

"Who did this? Who threw this into my classroom?" She screamed at the top of her lungs as she waved the brown bomb into the air like the Statue of Liberty. I noticed the brown turd juice running down her fingers.

A couple kids in the class started to cry. I thought I was going to barf.

My heart started racing. I remember thinking. "I know I was there. And I remember Russell taking a dump. But maybe, I made it all up? Maybe, in fact, I did the dirty doody."

Her eyes locked with mine. "You!" she screamed. "I saw you standing outside the window, did you do this?" Spit was flying. And her hair was bobbing in the wind as she thrust the turd within inches of my face.

I gave her a "Who me?" look. Shook my head and began to scan the room for Russell and Jason. They were looking straight ahead with the most innocent look on their faces. The bastards. How could they be so cool, calm and collected at a time like this?

"Can we please talk about this in the hall," our kindergarten teacher, Ms. Barrisford, said to the first-grade teacher as she grabbed her by the arm and escorted her out of the classroom.

Before she exited the room, the first-grade teacher extended her hand and dropped Russell's juicy turd into the metal trash container next to the door.

It landed with a KABLOMB! that echoed throughout the halls.

When the door slammed, all the other kid’s giggled…even Russell and Jason. I breathed a sigh of relief. The mystery of the turd would remain unsolved.

That is, until now.