I'm curious about Laurel Canyon, Lisa Cholodenko's new movie, out next Friday. Here's an interview.
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I've somehow missed talking to Luke Ford at all the packed LA Press Club events, but now am completely intrigued following his performance on the LA blogger panel this Saturday (where I again managed not to talk to him). Here are his comments on the event.
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OK, one more, can't help myself, I'm addicted to Stacey. I hope she doesn't mind all these repostings. GO TO HER BLOG!
"Everyone is a total fucking douche bag!
Just kidding! LOL! Just trying to get your attention!... In other news, I hooked up this really great guy, let me tell you about him!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, he is unemployed right now (more time to spend with me, awes!), he was in jail for the past year (he's totally buff, MMMMMM), he can drink me under the table (so he's a lot of fun at parties, esp. when he does his funny "I'm gonna break stuff and say I own you, bitch!" routine) and he has a neat glass eye! Yeah! We're going to get matching tattoos (his idea)! There's nothing like a new relationship to make you feel good about yourself!"
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More absurd hilarity from Stacey Nightmare:
"Here's a fun Game!
Spot the nastiest, grossest person in the room and pretend you must marry him or her because the customs of your society demand it! Pretend you are an impoverished Indian girl in the 19th century- you pretty much have no choice!"
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Love this girl. Hysterical and completely certifiable. Link via Christopher Scheer.
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WHY I'LL TAKE REALITY TV OVER REALITY: Last night, shortly after Trista said yes to Ryan in a world where Iraq doens't exist, I got a call inviting me to a shotgun wedding on the beach. Except no one's pregnant. My friend's long-term boyfriend, an army translator/biochem Ph.D student, has been called overseas, and they want to marry before he departs in March.
I can't think of a couple that strikes me as more in love and ready to marry.
But this isn't the kind of romance they deserve.
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TRISTA, I SCARCELY KNEW YE: Well, I totally underestimated Trista. She picked Ryan. It was quickly clear last night, since the narrative was favoring Charlie. But until then, I had been hoodwinked! Bravo, producers! You did good. I thought for sure she'd go for the slick L.A. guy, not the shy mountain man sweetheart. I didn't think she was really looking for love, and though it's even more scary that she was, I'm still happy for her.
Incidentally, I'm now in love with Ryan, even if he is the worst poet in the world and paints like someone who dresses sets for porn films.
So the only question is, how long will it last? Will Ryan move to LA? We had to laugh when Trista went to try on rings at Harry Winston, hands shaking with emotion, for the SECOND time in a year...
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Here it is: A rare retraction at this Web site, where we believe that the most foolproof form of fact-checking is to avoid the use of facts.
The post below should have said the SECOND hour of Joe Millionaire was the worst hour of television ever. I only half-watched the first hour, splitting my attention between the telly, reading, and painting my toenails, so I'm not really qualified to judge whether it was any good. And since my esteemed friend Jesse Walker wrote to tell me it was in fact a fine hour of TV, I'm going to go ahead and trust him.
Yes, this retraction is mostly an excuse to tell the world that JESSE WALKER was among the 40 million viewers of Joe Millionaire!
What do you think, folks: Will he tune into The Bachelorette tonight?
I'll be watching, at rapt attention, even though there's no "twist." It's all about Charlie, mark my words.
One last thing: Jesse came up with the best Joe Millionaire twist of all: It should have turned out to be the butler's dream!!! Such a move would have given the hilarious Paul Hogan, a diamond among quartz, more lines and more screentime, plus it would push the envelope of reality TV to its farthest limits!! It would be...EXPERIMENTAL REALITY TV!!!
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Joe Millionaire last night was the worst two hours of television I've ever seen. Except for Paul Hogan's butler monologues, which were very cute.
Evan and Horse Girl could only have been less entertaining if they had been in the living room with me, peeling my fingernails off with needlenosed pliers and "eating my brains out," to use an oft-replayed Evanism.
And poo on Fox for showing those still shots of tied-up hands, instead of Sara's actual bondage flicks. If those silly tickle movies are pornographic, anything's pornographic. Joe and the butler drinking tea on the castle steps is pornographic. Sara making slurping noises with Joe in the dark is CERTAINLY pornographic. And Teletubbies is Deep Throat for the short set.
Or maybe they just omitted them because they didn't want to pay what the "porn" producers were asking. Whatever.
Though Evan and his top pick may not be the world's most artful communicators, this much was clear from the look on their faces when they accepted the $500,000 each: They expected (or felt they deserved) a few mil more.
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Chicago is razzle-dazzle fabulous and must be seen in the theater.
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TENACIOUS D TO STAR IN OWN MOVIE. Happy Sara is.
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I rarely write about dating here; I leave that to the pros. But today I'll make a pre-Valentine's day exception. Why? My aloofness about Valentine's Day, which persisted even through all the spam, is now over. I'm joining in the groupthink, the water cooler discussion, the talk show grist.This morning, every Web page I've been on has at least one pink headline. The LA Times Weekend section is entirely devoted to terribly wry treatises on challenges to romance, love, and devotion in the City of Angels, the modern age, the Internet, etc.
The fact is, in an age where you can Fed Ex your sweetie your underwear, romance is easier than ever. And what age gave people more chances at love and romance, with more people, and with more types of people? In this town, a midget could walk down Sunset Blvd. nuzzling the neck (er, knee) of an obviously pre-op tranny and people in their SUVs would tilt their heartshaped heads to the side and remark, "Oh, how sweet."
Hmmm. Maybe that's an exaggeration.
Did everyone go read that Armed Liberal dating advice linked to on Instapundit? I'm relinking it here because it is so, so right and the behavior is so, so common.The problem with the guy who talks his head off isn't only that you get the impression that he's self-absorbed. Hey, let's be honest: to a certain degree, all singles are. And plenty of self-absorbed guys have gotten laid. The real problem is that he's failed to master the art of conversation. You don't want to be the one asking all the questions. You want to be answering them, too. You want to be kept on your toes by witty barbs and interesting follow-ups. In short, you want a conversation, not a chance to be Barbara Walters.
btw, some of the comments to the Armed Liberal are even better than the post itself.
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So some little marketing elf put me on da mailing list fo' Camel Magazine, da slick promo style mag produced by Camel Cigarettes out of London." It shows yo' ass izzall kinds of bomb diggity places where yo' ass can smoke bomb diggity tobacco, in bomb diggity parkas wit bomb diggity muthas who like bomb diggity things n' shit. That sort of thing." It gots be put out by da Richie Rich kids of tobacco execs, because a bunch of da staff bios be like things like, "When so 'n so ain't vacationing in Swiss ski camps, tha dude's snorkeling in South America 'n clubbing in Paris, know what I'm sayin'? " I probably gots on they list by selling my identity fo' a free pack of smokes some drunken evening n' shit.
Anyway, here's da reason I'm blogging that shiznit: The cover of this glossy tobacco product has a picture of two rosy-cheeked models wearing fur against a snowy background n' shit. The brizzle model is smoking cheerfully n' shit. The headline?
"Survival Instinct, know what I'm sayin'? "
Too funny, know what I'm sayin'?
(That's a post from a couple of days ago, translated by Tha Snoop Dog Shizzolater. Sure to be one of the year's most successful viral marketing campaigns. Shizzat.)
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Make that $29.99.
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FAULTY NICHE: If anyone wants to know how to buy a dozen long stemmed roses for $39.99, I can tell you. For the past two weeks, I've been getting five spams a day on the subject. If if wouldn't forever cement my e-mail on their marketing lists, I'd send responses:
I am single. I am female. I am considering a switch to Suave haircare products to save money. I DO NOT WANT YOUR DAMNED THORNY PLANTS.
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So some little marketing elf put me on the mailing list for Camel Magazine, the slick promo style mag produced by Camel Cigarettes out of London. It shows you all kinds of cool places where you can smoke cool tobacco, in cool parkas with cool people who like cool things. That sort of thing. It must be put out by the Richie Rich kids of tobacco execs, because a bunch of the staff bios say things like, "When so and so isn't vacationing in Swiss ski camps, he's snorkeling in South America and clubbing in Paris." I probably got on their list by selling my identity for a free pack of smokes some drunken evening.
Anyway, here's the reason I'm blogging it: The cover of this glossy tobacco product has a picture of two rosy-cheeked models wearing fur against a snowy background. The girl model is smoking cheerfully. The headline?
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ANOTHER REASON TO GET CABLE: Steven Soderbergh is developing an HBO series "set in the world of political consulting." He'll direct the first episode, says The Hollywood Reporter.
Even though I seem to like everything Soderbergh touches, political consulting would not have been my first choice for his first TV foray. Or second or third.
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OK, I didn't see The Guru this weekend. DVDs instead of movie theaters is one of my brilliant new financial austerity measures, which generally last about 1.2 weeks. So I rented a beautiful, joyful movie that made me cry and that I now urgently recommend: Mira Nair's Monsoon Wedding. I still haven't seen My Big Fat Greek Sitcom, but I'd bet a lifetime of romantic happiness that this is twice as good. (Which brings me to one small side effect of MW: Way to make a girl feel lonely. But in pleasant, luxurious, and hopeful kind of way.)
For some reason I was under the impression that it was told from the point of view of a fish, but I was secretly glad that wasn't actually the case. (Can anyone can tell me what movie, no doubt simultaneously released, that I'm thinking of?)
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