$20 @ Michael’s:
Paul found a vinyl Stormtrooper on Clearance at Target for $10 (marked down from $20)! After debating whether or not the marker was washable, we found that I am never wrong and it is not erasable. If you have a Mr. Clean-type sponge, it sort of works. We made the decision to decorate it as a group, but Paul with his shaky hands and I with my fear of permanent mistakes bowed out. Ultimately, Laura colored everything but the eyeballs.
For some reason, the pointlessness of this story reminds me of those terrible journal entries we had to write in middle school. Just an annoying honey-do slapped up on the whiteboard, antagonizing you right as you enter the room. “WTF? I just walked in the room and you already want something from me? Your ex-husband is a smart man!” I would include in my written response. But seriously, if you see one of these Vinyl Stormtroopers on sale, it’s $10 worth of fun.
Look what Paul found for Christy! It’s a flawless, double-sided Star Wars: Episode VII The Force Awakens Movie Poster! Sure, he could have sold it online for $250, but instead he was lazy his whole life and gave it to me. Speaking of which, I now have a picture blog called The Fork Awakens. Theforkawakens.com. That’s right. I own it now.
I remember the first time I ever watched Episodes IV, V and VI… It was Paul’s birthday, so naturally, he wanted to watch something I’d never normally agree to watch. (My rule over the remote at that house was absolute.) I didn’t want to ruin my Original-Star-Wars virginity, but ruin it I did, all over our old couch. There was a lot of question asking and laughing at burnt-up relatives, but ultimately I did not enjoy them enough to watch them again, sooo… Maybe this is a waste of a perfectly good poster. I didn’t mind the one with the Tree Bears. It was less boring than the other two, but I still have no idea what the humans were up to in that one. Tree Bears pulling a Home Alone on Storm Troopers… Hilarious.
Time to head to Michaels and save 80% on an enormous picture frame. Unless someone wants to give me $250 for it, in which case, “Hello, frivolous kitchen equipment shopping spree!”
This year, we continued the tradition of throwing Paul a way bigger birthday celebration than he deserves.* I mean, who does he think he is? The King of England? Spoiler alert: he’s a nobody who’s the King of Nothing.
Okay, enough about Paul. Let’s move on to me, the party planner!
Last year’s Game of Thrones party took weeks of planning. This year, we went to see The Lion King on Halloween, a Bianca del Rio show the week before that, and we threw a pre-Halloween party the week before that, so I had about a week to get everything together.
Luckily for me, the decade that defined our childhood was extremely consumeristic, so most of my cooking was exchanged for shopping. I hung up a bunch of streamers, threw together some “homemade” Dunkaroo dip, made Reptar Bars that turn your tongue green, baked an orange Nickelodeon cake based on the recipe in Nickelodeon Magazine, covered the couch in orange felt and used electrical tape to recreate the Snick Couch, made a large bowl of slime to slime Paul, and compiled a playlist of 90s Nickelodeon shows and commercials on YouTube. Blah, blah, blah, here’s the PARTY!
It’s the end of an era. After several attempts over the years to cull my unwieldy collection of DVDs, it’s finally time to say goodbye to what’s left. I figure now’s as good a time as any to reflect on my relationship with the only thing I’ve ever collected!
By the way, if anyone has any suggestions of how to get rid of these DVDs, leave a comment.
Documentaries: Still haven’t seen any except My Kid Could Paint That, which I watched before the last major purge. I guess unwatched DVD documentaries are like unread books. Now that the Internet’s around, you’ll probably never be that bored again.
Teenage Girl Movies: I still haven’t seen Hysterical Blindness or In Good Company, but generally, in the rare instance that I bought a girly movie, I made it a point to watch it. Good for me!
Teenage Boy Movies: With the exception of Memento, I’ve watched all of these. I’d say that most of these are probably gender-neutral, but you gotta differentiate somehow, right? I watched Little Nicky A LOT as a teen.
Kids Movies: I have seen all of these movies, although I never actually watched my copy of The Little Prince. It’s occurring to me as I read through all of these titles that I was indifferent to most of the DVDs I had even when they were new. I grew up with The Secret of Nimh and The Incredible Mr. Limpet, but why did I choose to buy them as an adult? They’re both boring. The same goes for The Little Prince: probably beautiful or some shit, but still boring. I was trying to buy a memory. Dumb.
Disney Movies: Nostalgia strikes again! If I’m being honest with myself, I could have cut this down to just Aladdin years ago.
Classics: Screwball comedies from the 1940s-60s are my favorite classic movies. They are also very easy to find on Netflix and Amazon and Hulu, so owning them is redundant. I recommend People Will Talk (Netflix) and Wives and Lovers (Amazon Prime). Heaven Can Wait with Don Ameche and Gene Tierney is also good when you can find it.
Indie Comedies: I’ve watched about half of these. Some, like The Trouble with Dee Dee and Gray Matters, were purchased when Movie Gallery was going out of business. It took me five years to realize that you don’t have to keep things just because they’re rare. I’m not saying they’re valuable. They’re just so indie you’d probably never find them again unless you were searching for them. But they’re also so unmemorable that if you got rid of them, you’d never remember to search for them, so if you’re interested in them at all, you’d better keep them if you ever want to watch them. This is the logic that fills your home with garbage.
Indie Dramas and Such: I’ve watched about half of these. I don’t usually like dramas, but The Namesake, Closer and Match Point are the closest I’ve come to experiencing films as art. I’m satisfied with that and from henceforth, I shan’t continue the search for pretentious artsy dramas!
TV Series: As much as I’ve always preferred TV to movies, I never really bought into the idea that TV on DVD was a great idea. Searching for a specific episode on a specific disk, getting up to put said disk into a game console, going through the menu, and God help me, those DVDs without a Play All feature – I’ve endured it, but that time is over now.
(Mostly) European Films: I’ve seen about half of these. Would I have watched more of them if Paul weren’t such a humongous baby about being forced to read regular, English words which he encounters on a daily basis? Who can say? Yes. Being friends with Paul has made me dumber and less civilized. Happy Freaking Birthday, Paul.
Asian Films: I’ve seen less than half of these. I tried to watch The Iron Ladies with Paul, but he refused because he hates all things gender-bending and foreign. Most of the ones I watched were Korean. Thanks again, PAUL! Happy Birthday! You uncultured dick!
My Top 12: At one point, my collection included more than 700 DVDs, and I would have traded them all for the dozen you see in the picture below (in a world where DVDs are the only currency and there is only one copy of each DVD… this is unraveling). With the exception of the extremely rare Eat Your Heart Out, these DVDs have defined a decade of my life, and I think 28 is a fitting age at which to let them go. Goodbye, old identity. Hello, nothingness!
Happy 28th Birthday Paul! You’re 28! You’ve been an adult for a full decade and this is what you’re life is like! This is what you accomplished with the 3,650 days since you turned 18. Take what you think you could accomplish in one month, multiply that by 120, and that’s how much you could have accomplished by now! If you took six months to write one script, you could have completed 20 full-length screenplays by now! WOW! Congratulations!
Christy had the selfish idea to pull me out of my lazy-hole so we could write something soon. I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of the “perfect” thing to write. I decided I wasn’t going to worry about how commercial an idea was, or if script readers would like it. I spend so much time trying to foolproof ideas so they reach the biggest possible audience that eventually I just get bored and write nothing at all. If I’m going to sit down in a chair for an extended amount of time, I’m going to write what I want. Well I’ve found my idea.
I’m a lifelong wrestling fan. When I realized that wrestling wasn’t real it didnt lose its magic, it just made me want to know how the trick was performed. (I’m quite pleased with that line) I genuinely respect the wrestlers for putting their bodies on the line and performing a new show every week. Clowns freak me out so its the closest thing to the Circus I’ll tolerate.
Last night I watched a new wrestling documentary about the career of Paul Heyman, “Ladies and Gentleman, My Name is Paul Heyman“. Paul Heyman was blessed with the gift of gab. He can make any wrestling storyline entertaining and he holds the audience in the palm of his pudgy hands. However, Paul Heyman is fat which disgusts me so I’ve never really cared about what he does off-camera. I assumed he was eating.
Turns out, Paul Heyman’s life story was one of the most interesting documentaries I’ve ever seen. It was the history of modern-wrestling from the view point of a man who would lose a pillow fight, much less a wrestling match. Every person interviewed agreed on one thing: Paul is a genius. He understands what the audience wants and he gives it to them. Also Paul is an absolute hustler whos been involved with wrestling since he was 13 and scammed his way into a Madison Square Garden press-badge. He has been involved with just about every wrestling promotion on the planet and helped mold what wrestling is today as an on-air talent as well as behind the scenes.
Basically Paul’s story is Almost Famous meets Social Network but for once the lead is INCREDIBLY active. Theres no chance in hell that I can do his story justice, but I’m gonna try. This is a movie that would never be made due to several different wrestling promotions and million dollar empires being involved. Like I said earlier, I don’t care. This is what I want to write about. I want to spend the next few months focused on the history of wrestling and how to retell it because its something that I love. How could that be boring?
I apologize for how poorly written this article is. It’s the first time in months that I’ve stopped clicking on Facebook pictures and Taylor Swift videos long enough to do anything productive. Also it doesnt help when your friend is basically the Babe Ruth of blogging. Seriously this article is a Bazooka Joe gum wrapper compared to the opus Christy posted a few days ago.
I realize that I’m lazy and that will never change. I hope that putting my intentions on this blog will at least shame me enough to write a few pages. If I dont write something within a few days this idea will start to sound stupid to me like all the others. I hope to continually update my progress on the blog to keep me accountable. I saw how this movie should be in my head during the documentary and I think it could be EXTREME-ly interesting.
People who claim not to see pedo overtones in SIA’s “Elastic Heart” music video are fucking liars. Sorry.
*Lolita summary courtesy of Wikipedia,
which makes it all a total lie, right?*
Humbert Humbert, a literary scholar in Europe, describes the premature death of his childhood sweetheart, Annabel Leigh. He suggests his unconsummated love for her caused his adult obsession with girl-children between the ages 9 and 14, or “nymphets”.
Humbert fantasizes about meeting and eventually fondling the 12-year-old daughter of an impoverished family from whom he agreed to rent, buying an expensive bag of toys before meeting the McCoo family, only to find that their house burned down. A “Mrs. Haze” offers to accommodate him instead, and Humbert visits her residence reluctantly out of politeness, as “the only reason for [his] coming at all [to Ramsdale] had vanished.” He plans to decline the widowed Charlotte Haze’s offer until she at last shows him her garden and 12-year-old daughter, Dolores (born 1935), known as “Lo”, “Lola”, or “Dolly”. He immediately becomes infatuated with her, citing her uncanny resemblance to Annabel,
and agrees to stay at Charlotte’s house only to be near her daughter, whom he privately nicknames “Lolita”.
While “Lolita” is away at summer camp, Charlotte, who has fallen in love with Humbert, tells him in a letter that he must either marry her or move out to avoid embarrassment. Humbert agrees to marry Charlotte in order to continue living near Lolita. Charlotte is oblivious to Humbert’s distaste for her, as well as his lust for Lolita, until she reads his diary. Learning of Humbert’s true feelings and intentions, Charlotte plans to flee and send Lolita to a reform school, threatening to expose Humbert as a “detestable, abominable, criminal fraud.” However, fate intervenes on Humbert’s behalf: as she runs across the street in a state of shock, Charlotte is struck and killed by a passing car.
Humbert retrieves Lolita from camp, pretending that Charlotte has been hospitalized. Rather than return to Charlotte’s home, Humbert takes Lolita to a hotel. Humbert plans to use one sleeping pill (out of a total of forty) per night to drug Lolita and perform sexual intercourse on her while she is unconscious.
He tries molesting Lolita but finds that the sedative is too mild.
Instead, she initiates sex the next morning, after explaining that she had slept with a boy at camp. Later, Humbert reveals to Lolita that Charlotte is dead, giving her no choice but to accept her stepfather into her life on his terms or face foster care.
Lolita and Humbert drive around the country, moving from state to state and motel to motel. In order to keep Lolita from going to the police, Humbert tells her if he is arrested, she will become a ward of the state and lose all her clothes and belongings. He also bribes her with food, money, or permission to attend fun events for sexual favors, though he knows that she does not reciprocate his love and shares none of his interests. After a year touring North America, the two settle down in another New England town, where Lolita is enrolled in a girls’ school. Humbert becomes very possessive and strict, forbidding Lolita to take part in after-school activities or to associate with boys. Most of the townspeople see this as the action of a loving and concerned, though old-fashioned, parent.
Lolita begs to be allowed to take part in the school play, and Humbert reluctantly grants his permission in exchange for more sexual favors. The play is written by Mr. Clare Quilty. Quilty is said to have attended a rehearsal and been impressed by Lolita’s acting.
Just before opening night, Lolita and Humbert have a ferocious argument, and Lolita runs away while Humbert assures the neighbors everything is fine.
He searches frantically until he finds her exiting a phone booth.
She is in a bright, pleasant mood, saying that she tried to reach him at home and that a “great decision has been made.”
They go to buy drinks and Lolita tells Humbert she doesn’t care about the play and wants to resume their travels.
As Lolita and Humbert drive westward again, Humbert gets the feeling that their car is being tailed and becomes increasingly paranoid, suspecting that Lolita is conspiring with others in order to escape. She falls ill and must convalesce in a hospital while Humbert stays in a nearby motel, without Lolita for the first time in years. One night, Lolita disappears from the hospital, with the staff telling Humbert that her “uncle” checked her out. Humbert embarks upon a frantic search to find Lolita and her abductor, but eventually gives up. During this time, Humbert has a two-year relationship (ending in 1952) with a woman named Rita, whom he describes as a “kind, good sport” who “solemnly approve[s]” of his search for Lolita, while knowing none of the details.
Humbert receives a letter from Lolita, now 17, who tells him that she is married (making her name now Dolores Schiller), pregnant, and in desperate need of money. Humbert goes to see Lolita, giving her money in exchange for the name of the man who abducted her.
She reveals the truth: Clare Quilty checked her out of the hospital after following them throughout their travels and tried to make her star in one of his pornographic films. When she refused, he threw her out. She worked odd jobs before meeting and marrying her husband, who knows nothing about her past.
Humbert asks Lolita to leave her husband, Dick, and live with him, which she refuses to do. He gives her a large sum of money anyway.
As he leaves, she smiles and shouts goodbye in a “sweet, American” way.
Humbert finds Quilty, whom he intends to kill, at his mansion. Before doing so, he first wants Quilty to understand why he must die, for he took advantage of Humbert, a sinner, and he took advantage of a disadvantage. Eventually, Humbert shoots him dead, and exits the house. Shortly afterward, he is arrested for driving on the wrong side of the road and swerving. The narrative closes with Humbert’s final words to Lolita in which he wishes her well, and reveals the novel in its metafiction to be the memoirs of his life, only to be published after he and Lolita have both died.
The novel’s fictional “Foreword” states that Humbert Humbert dies of coronary thrombosis upon finishing his manuscript.
It also states that “Mrs. Richard Schiller” (Lolita) died giving birth to a stillborn girl on Christmas Day, 1952, at the age of 17.
I guess SIA and Shia LaBeouf are two peas in a pod when it comes to acknowledging source material. Not only has SIA failed to cite Lolita as an inspiration, she’s had the audacity to talk down to people who “cry pedophilia,” while simultaneously playing bleeding heart for victims of sexual abuse.
It’s interpretative dance. It’s art, allegedly. If people are all interpreting it as something horrible, maybe it’s horrible. Maybe if I give 100 people the finger, and 85 people find it offensive, it’s offensive. Artists who try to claim artistic and intellectual immunity from being criticized for their work are just as interested in preventing freedom of speech as people who are demanding such works never be created. While I hope that the SIA videos are not indicative of some sort of societal easement into the territory of child exploitation, I know that it ultimately falls on the shoulders of the people receiving that turgid finger in the face. Can we be convinced that we’re all idiots? That we’re all delusional? That we’re all worrying over nothing? I hope not.
I don’t really care for Game of Thrones. I don’t like dramas, I don’t like paying attention, and I don’t like watching dirty people. So, when Paul selfishly suggested a Game of Thrones birthday party, I told him to shove it up his butt.
Secretly, though, I started planning. I scoured the Internet for party ideas, and although I had no idea what the significance of a Ned Stark cake pop was, I knew it looked cool, so it was on the list. Dragon eggs, check. The boar that killed King Robert, check (found a place nearby that sold wild boar! I love LA.)
Meanwhile, I threw out various party ideas to Paul, lingering on them long enough to avoid suspicion, but briefly enough to assure him that whatever we did would be half-assed. I worked piecemeal on the decorations and food for a couple weeks beforehand, and while I worked, I listened to Game of Thrones in the background to try to get some context for what I was doing.
About a week before the party, I told Paul to buy a costume. I told him the theme would be the modern Golden Age of Television, and he would be someone from Game of Thrones; I would be Amy Farrah Fowler; and Trey would be someone from The Walking Dead (another show I don’t watch bc of all the dirty people).
Because Paul works nights, he comes down by bus and gets here at about 6 o’clock Saturday morning. Not wanting to arouse suspicion, I hid everything Friday night, and put a note on the refrigerator door: DO NOT OPEN! SOUFFLE INSIDE!
Later, I locked him in the cat’s crapping room for roughly an hour, under the guise of getting dinner ready.
I don’t think I’ve ever so successfully misled a person before. The look on his face, when he realized how much he’d been lied to, well, that’s the real magic… That’s what makes it all worth it. Lie to your kids, folks. -_^ They deserve it.
I informed Paul that I had seen Game of Thrones, and that I had only pretended to need an hour-long explanation of the show to better throw him off the scent. He laughed, and agreed that he had enjoyed explaining, in great detail, at my behest, who everyone was and how they were related or were not related. Okay, now I’m just lying to the poor fools who’re reading this dreck.
Anywho, Paul went all out for his Brienne of Tarth costume, so I didn’t have to bludgeon him to death with a candle. Oh, yeah, and I’m G.O.T.olerant, now.
On to the pictures!
Dothraki Stallion Heart: http://www.innatthecrossroads.com/2012/02/14/happy-valentines-day/
Stupidly long link: Not classy, Walmart. Not classy. http://www.walmart.com/ip/DreamWorks-Dragons-How-to-Train-Your-Dragon-2-Squirt-and-Float-Dragons/35432694?action=product_interest&action_type=title&placement_id=irs_top&strategy=PWVUB&visitor_id=NidNtW4iweseQHpEJX7uPU&category=&client_guid=4af70672-680e-4e62-8292-099ac8d19c1d&customer_id_enc=&config_id=2&parent_item_id=35432697&guid=dafe3111-244c-47df-8833-54a57ed75529&bucket_id=irsbucketdefault&beacon_version=1.0.0&findingMethod=p13n
Ned Stark Cake Pops: http://notyourmommascookie.com/2012/04/game-of-thrones-cake-pops/
Randomly found this blank banner at Target for $5! http://www.target.com/p/spritz-chalkboard-party-banner/-/A-14898338#prodSlot=_3_1