kellinator: (Default)
In the past ten minutes, three of you -- two by phone -- have notified me of the death of Anna Nicole Smith.

I really am too identified with the trash.  

Can't say I'm surprised, though. And I'm actually going to stop there for once.
kellinator: (shipwreck by relevantpink)
Dear Santa,

I have had a very good year and I really don't need anything for Christmas. But there is one thing that I really really want.

All I want for Christmas is for Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears to keep doing dumb shit.

I mean, I know just asking will probably land me on the naughty list for good, but seriously, Santa! Have you seen this shit? It's better than Days of Our Lives!

Now if I were nice, I would ask you to bring Lindsay a breathalyzer to hook up to her computer's power button so she can't drunk-email and some damn panties for Britney, but we've already established that I'm not nice, so please don't.

I know it's a lot to ask, Santa, but remember, I always say screw the cookies and leave rum out for you instead. If K-Fed does something else really stupid and entertaining before Christmas, I'll throw in tequila too.

kellinator: (Meatwad by another_icon_lj)
Okay. Remember how The Nine, the show about the bank robbery hostages, was supposed to be THE fall show, except of course to the people who thought Studio 60 was THE fall show? Well, I've been watching it and it's really not all that and a bag of chips. (It is better than Studio 60, and I'm going to shut up about that now before [ profile] ariedana hurts me.) I actually tried to not watch it a couple of weeks ago, and James got all agitated. "You made me stop watching that other show that's probably cancelled now to watch this!" So I watched it. BTW, "that other show" was Kidnapped, which was dreadful. James also loves Studio 60 to the point of referring to it as "my show." Our television incompatibility is starting to worry me. Luckily there's Boston Legal and Jack of All Trades and all my Homicide DVDs which he claims he likes. But I digress (and how!).

Anyway, The Nine is watchable if not brilliant. Though I spend most of it staring at Tim Daly wishing he were still devious brilliant sexy-as-hell Harlan Judd from the late lamented in-the-same-damn-time-slot Eyes instead of cranky cop/gambling addict Nick. (Aside: How amusing is it that the brothers from Wings ended up in the two most-buzzed dramas of the new season? Somewhere, Crystal Bernard is pissed.) But in the past couple of episodes I've noticed something that makes it much more entertaining and relatable to me:

The Nine is just like LiveJournal.

Think about it. You have something that happened, only no one's quite sure what, and you have to try and put the pieces together by looking at everyone's version of events. You're not sure who knows what because you don't know who's on which filter and you're not sure who's not supposed to be told about what's on the filter and then there's the bigmouth who forgets about filters and blabs to everyone that somebody's pregnant. In the same vein, you also have the competing social events and you can't remember who's been invited to them and who's persona non grata and who's blowing them off to go have sex. Then there's the guy who can't check his LJ because he's in jail so he doesn't know what the hell's going on. And finally, you have a poll on whether someone should live or die. See? Just like LiveJournal.
kellinator: (r0x0rs by iharthdarth) is reporting something about Tom Cruise and blahblahblah, I don't give a shit. There is something about the Cruise Media Circus that is amusing me enough to point out to the rest of you, though.

Here's the photo of Mr. Top Gun himself emblazoned at the top of

Now who is Mr. Cruise trying to look like now?

Here's what I think... )

Hell yes!

Oct. 30th, 2006 10:41 am
kellinator: (Bigby Wolf)
This weekend I saw a terrific movie and I didn't even have to get up off my couch. Cartoon Network aired Hellboy: Sword of Storms on Saturday night. I loved the first Hellboy movie, and this one certainly did not disappoint. Of course, it helped that Mike Mignola was a co-writer and Ron Perlman was back to voice Hellboy. I've heard rumors of a Hellboy animated series; I really hope they're true. Hellboy could fill the Justice League-shaped void at Cartoon Network.

Of course, the fact that this was on Cartoon Network made me think of a crossover I REALLY want to see:

HELLBOY: So we... oh, crap. I TOLD you guys what I think of psychics.
DR. ORPHEUS: I'll have you know that I am NO MERE PSYCHIC! I am *thunderclap* DR. ORPHEUS, MASTER OF NECROMANCY!!
HELLBOY: Oh, THAT'S just GREAT. Who the hell let the necromancer in here?
kellinator: (Denny Crane by nanook123)
Watching Boston Legal (well, I'm not sure, but it must have been Boston Legal because it's the only thing we watch on ABC), we see a promo for J.J. Abrams' new series, Six Degrees, and its ultracheesy tag line: "Who will you touch? Who will touch you?"

Me (turning to James): I don't wanna watch that. It looks all touchy-feely up-with-people and crap.

The Six Degrees promo is immediately followed by a promo for The Nine, the new show about the bank robbery hostages.

Me (immediately brightening): Oooooooh!! I wanna watch that!
kellinator: (Snakes on a Plane)
Snakes on a Plane was everything it promised. It had snakes... on a plane... and Samuel L. Jackson... dropping f-bombs. Really, what's not to love?

The snakes did not look totally realistic to me, plus I was very well-lubricated with rum, so it was not the single most terrifying experience of my life, though I did spend a lot of time cowering on James' shoulder and screaming every time a snake lunged. Also, I was sitting between James and Elli and they kept poking me with the rubber snakes we brought and cackling evilly.

Earlier in the summer Poseidon pissed me off with its casual racism and sexism. Snakes on a Plane is the anti-Poseidon in that regard, and I really like the comparisons to '70s-era disaster movies, with a small group banding together to survive. And, of course, Samuel L. Jackson looked like he was having a motherfucking blast.

My verdict: Two snakes up!

(I'm still scared of snakes though.)
kellinator: (Snakes on a Plane)

I've been going back and forth for eons between my love of the cheese and my terror of snakes, which keeps me from watching stuff as innocuous as Crocodile Hunter (if Crocodile Hunter is not actually innocuous, don't blame me, I don't know because I don't watch the stuff). But yesterday [ profile] ariedana sent me Samuel L. Jackson's most excellent Daily Show interview, and I decided that I love Samuel L. Motherfucking Jackson more than I fear the snakes. One co-worker suggested I write him a fan letter to tell him that. Another envisioned the commentary track on the DVD as performed by the snakes: "We thought this movie was our chance to shine as snakes... but it went terribly wrong!" I personally hope the DVD has that... plus a director's cut where all the snakes are replaced by Kaa from the Jungle Book.

Anyway, it's going to be the best movie ever. Samuel L. called and told me himself. Also, according to Wikipedia, he announced it to the world:

On June 3, 2006, Samuel L. Jackson said, while presenting the award for best movie at the MTV Movie Awards, "I'm here tonight to present the award everyone's been waiting for: best movie. Now, this award holds a special place in my heart because next year I'll be winning it for Snakes on a Plane. Now I know, I know that sounds cocky, but I don't give a damn. I am guaranteeing that Snakes on a Plane will win best movie next year. Does not matter what else is coming out. The New James Bond... no snakes in that! Ocean's 13... where my snakes at? Shrek the Third... green, but not a snake. No movie shall triumph over Snakes on a Plane. Unless I happen to feel like making a movie called Mo' Motha-fuckin' Snakes on Mo' Motha-fuckin' Planes."

So yes. I'm sneaking the booze into the theater. James is looking for rubber snakes at the dollar store as we speak. I'm reserving my right to cower on his shoulder.

...Come and get us, you motherfucking snakes!!
kellinator: (stupidheads by damn_squiggly)
The definitive proof that we need real, scientific, non-religious-right sex education in schools right fuckin' now:

Britney Spears: Pregnancy No. 2 'just kind of happened'

Here's a hint, Britney: A stork was not involved.

Hey [ profile] scarcrest, remember a while back when you started predicting her eventually posing nude? Did you ever expect it would be as "impressive" (and y'all can take that any way you want) as a nude pregnant Harper's cover?

Where can I find a good mocking-the-celebrities icon?
kellinator: (Bridezilla by helichrysm)
As most of you have no doubt noticed by now, I love The Trash. There's something in me that not only just can't look away from a metaphorical trainwreck, but presses my nose up against the glass to get a better look. And I have discovered the Unholy Grail of trash TV: Bridezillas.

It's James' fault, really. We were in Target recently when we noticed how cheap the Bridezilla DVD was and he said, probably jokingly, "You could get that to show you what not to do." I don't think he expected me to have a Monday and decide that was a good idea. I watched the first two episodes last night.

(By the way, just in case you were wondering, James has declined to join me in my mock-the-stupid glee on this one. As it stands, I have to write him the Flavor of Love Drinking Game by Sunday if I want to watch the ghettofabulousness in peace. Expect a post on that this week.)

Wow. This shit is AWESOME. I mean, it's awful, but it's awesome. I think my favorite part was the 19-year-old bride with the "potty mouth," as the announcer titters. Because everyone knows that nice girls don't swear. Actually, you know, the show is most amusing to me not so much for the crazy brides (though 19-year-old child bride was plenty crazy, don't get me wrong) but for the schoolmarm voiceovers.

And then it occurred to me:

I would totally be the best Bridezilla ever.

I mean, look at it. Reality shows tend to boil a person down to a few trainwrecky qualities -- foulmouthed, immature, spoiled. Well, here I am. I'd be the foulmouthed, lazy, fat drunk bride with the redneck family!

I can imagine it now:

Announcer: The frazzled bride, in the depths of despair, turns to drink and wild partying.
Me: Awww hell no! We do this [BLEEP] every Friday night!

Seriously, I'd totally do it to cover wedding costs. It would be fun to fuck with these people!
kellinator: (stupidheads by damn_squiggly)
Last night I was idly flipping channels (idle eyes watch the devil's television) and came across something that I've been hearing about, but I don't think I truly believed until I saw it with my own two eyes:

My Super Sweet Sixteen.

I'm sure I could rant ad infinitum about these spoiled, bratty, entitled kids, but I'm sure it's all been said before, so instead I'll wonder: These kids are from obviously very wealthy families, so how in the hell did these families manage to amass and maintain such wealth with such fucked-up financial priorities?

That said, it may still go on the Guilty Pleasure list, because it makes me feel deep in comparison. Wow, I really am shallow.


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