( 11:57 PM )
Movie Tirade
I know this isn’t exactly timely, but I just rented Starsky and Hutch last night and I can’t for the life of me figure out why this movie was made. It completely sucked ass. It wasn’t funny or interesting, and only seemed like a sorry excuse for Ben Stiller & Owen Wilson to play 70’s dress-up. Totally pathetic, and how retarded was the ending? Any movie critic who actually touted this as solid entertainment should step down.
I bitch about movie remakes all the time, but for some inexplicable reason they just keep coming. Adam Sandler is starring in a new Longest Yard, there’s a Dukes of Hazzard movie coming out, and the Wayons brothers have signed on for a Munsters movie. Has the world gone fucking insane? Black Munsters? No offense—I don't want to see black, white, or green Munsters on the big screen—this quirky little TV show should just be left alone.
What’s next--?
The Facts of Life movie? --Half naked teenage girls in sexy boarding school uniforms drinking, drugging, clubbing, and having sex with boys (and girls) under the radar of Mrs. Garrett. Throw in a couple of “it” girls, few models, and a boy toy or two, and you’ve got yourself a tweener blockbuster. Kirstie Alley could play the doofy Mrs. Garrett. Oh yeah, and load the soundtrack with good-looking and marginally talented musical acts. All songs are about doin’ it or losin’ it. Facts of Life Pregnancy Tests hit the market by next back to school season.
Song of the Day:
“Do It To You” Hot Date 1983
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( 11:17 PM )
The following letter was discovered crumpled up near McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
You know, if you had a penis I’d name it Marty. No reason. Hey before I forget, I meant to tell you that I maybe broke your new camera when I heaved it into the lake by accident. You could probably get someone to fish it out for you. Oh yeah, as part of our community service sentence we’ve got to be at the fairgrounds at 6:00 am Saturday to pick up circus elephant dung. I also think the guy said something about emptying some port-o-johns or something. Well, time for my surprise IRS audit-- I can claim you as a dependent right?
See you later at the hoe down,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Starfield Road” Sonic Youth 1994
Random Political Observation:
John Kerry is wearing a yellow Lance Armstrong bracelet. Bush is not.
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( 11:40 PM )
Weekend Recap
Probably one of the best things going for Rochester, NY is the Park Avenue area. A mile long, tree-lined street that winds between awesome houses and apartments, the neighborhood is inhabited by working college students, decorating aficionados, and fashionable shopping types. It’s safe, trendy, and always charming.
Once a year the entire street is closed for a two-day festival that showcases work from artisans lining the street. In between the tents and displays are stages for musicians and food stands selling anything from fried dough to giant turkey thighs. If you were looking to stuff your face this past weekend, this would be the place to be. It’s estimated that over 200,000 people will walk up and down the Ave. buying furniture, paintings, candles, jewelry, and stuff that’s unclassifiable. The cheesecake on a stick was awesome.
In a stroke of parental genius, there was a stand set up exclusively for diaper changing and nursing. I suppose pushing a kid around in a stroller with a load in his pants on a hot and crowded street is the alternative. In curious marketing moves, there were girls walking around wearing white skintight cat suits giving out Tylenol sample packets, and Best Buy provided a corporate stage in the Wilson Farms parking lot.
Among our festival purchases, my wife and I bought a small, carved wooden monkey from the Utter Clutter store (corner of Park & Meigs) run by two cool ladies named Joanne and Sarah. They put the monkey in a large yellow plastic bag that read “BIG GAY BAG.” The other side of the bag was an ad for GAY.COM. Hysterical. But still, I made my wife carry it.
Since it’s inception, the best part about the Park Ave Fest (besides people watching and mocking) has always been the cool house parties thrown at night. Once the vendors close shop for the evening, touring partygoers flow through the streets mingling with folks on porches, balconies, and backyards.
Saturday night was enjoyed with several close friends at a Granger Place party thrown by a gracious host named Mimi. We met many interesting people-- teachers, decorators, and one guy running for state Senate named Michael Laba. Had a Caddyshack moment when I said "Sheriff Lobo?" and he quickly corrected me, “Uh, that's Laba, thanks.” Yikes. I’m pretty sure I remember being introduced to a guy with one arm who was a Chargers fan. He was wasted as he blathered about the Chargers and was talking too close to my face, so I actually ran away when he turned around for a second. I never saw him again.
On a beautiful, but unseasonably cool summer night, we had a great time and great conversations I only wish I could mention here. We also drank a ton.
Which meant Sunday became a detox, lay around the couch day. Could only muster enough energy to mow the yard, walk the poor dog, and write this lame recap.
Song of the Day:
“Mary Jane” Rick James 1978
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