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May 31, 2007

1180: Jetsetter on MTV's Real World

I just received this from Renee and couldn't be more proud!

Our song "Il S'en Va" from our new release VasoVerga is on the soundtrack to the Season Premier episode of MTV's Reunited: Real World Vegas.

Set up your TiVo or watch it on MTV.com (the "Making Boundries" chapter):

http://www.mtv.com/overdrive/?id=1560348&vid=151885

An instrumental version of the tune kicks in for about a minute at the first shot of THE PALMS. Hear the full version at www.myspace.com/jetsetterspace

Fantastic!

Posted by ashley at 08:19 PM | TrackBack

May 30, 2007

1179: Reunion!

I'm going to be away from my compy for a few days to attend my 5 year college reunion.

Ashley: did i tell you i'm going to my reunion this weekend?
Ashley: i keep calling it my graduation, and people are like, "how long have you been in school?!"
Chris: ha ha ha ha ha
Chris: mom mentioned that
Chris: i hope you have a good time
Chris: are you renting a chopper to fly you in?
Chris: i would.
Chris: a chopper, and security guards, as well as some paparazzi.
Ashley: super sweet sixteen style?
Chris: exactly
Chris: at the end, you get a car
Chris: and throw a fit
Ashley: and Morrissey could perform
Ashley: or rather, i would want him to perform, but all we could get was a Mexican smiths coverband
Ashley: and i would throw a fit
Chris: ha ha ha
Ashley: and my drink
Ashley: because I'm an adult and i deserve an adult glass
Chris: the giants are number one, the giants are number one
Ashley: that's a fact
Ashley: I was offended by this email BMC sent out about what to wear and bring
Ashley: they were like, it's going to be humid and hot, so dress in light, breezy layers and wear sensible shoes and don't bring a lot of jewelry
Ashley: and i'm like, PSSH! WHATEVER!
Ashley: I'm going to do the exact opposite of everything they said
Ashley: and then say bad things about women
Chris: of course, you will wear all black and so much jewelry that you'll be unable to walk.
Ashley: i'm totally going to pass out at some point, I can feel it
Ashley: what really bothers me is that my hair might not be at its best due to the weather
Ashley: and that is kind of freaking me out
Chris: then ride around in a wheelchair, fanning yourself weakly and hiding behind thick sunglasses, with your hair in a wrap, and reminiscing about the good old days with clark gable.
Ashley: ha ha ha ha ha
Ashley: bryn maaaaaawr
Ashley: i am so congested i sound like Lauren Bacall
Ashley: which is irrelevant to BMC but nice
Ashley: I shall bring up fancy feast whenever possible
Chris: ha ha
Ashley: i am kind of annoyed i haven't accomplished more before coming back
Ashley: i thought i'd have an Oscar by now
Chris: i think you have to do more acting for that
Ashley: i act all the time
Ashley: some call it lying
Chris: or acting OUT, you bad kid!
Ashley: acting the fool!
Chris: but not to worry. just pick up an Oscar at some novelty store and carry it with you.
Ashley: it'll melt because it was made out of chocolate
Chris: along with a fake Olympic medal, and a document that purports to be a Nobel prize
Chris: ha ha
Ashley: but is actually a doodle on the back of a diner menu
Chris: ha ha ha

Posted by ashley at 04:49 PM | TrackBack

1178: "You are forgiven!"

Last night Pete and I watched The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus, albeit with constant interruptions from the public television people who wanted us to purchase something or other. If we did, could they just keep the canvas tote I'd never use and just promise to STOP INTERRUPTING THE GODDAMNED SHOW? Because then I would buy eight of whatever they're selling. Is their other option to have commerical breaks? What's the difference? Stopping the show to beg me to buy a DVD of the thing I'm already watching is kind of a commerical isn't it? Either way, all I have to say is this: Tivo.

As we were suffering through the long sessions of begging happening on our screen, waiting until the next three minutes of rock before the begging began again, Pete and I read this on Wikipedia, concerning the postponement of the Circus show's release:

The Stones contended that they withheld its release due to their substandard performance because they had taken the stage early in the morning and were exhausted. Many others contend that the real reason for not releasing the video was that The Who, who were fresh off a concert tour, upstaged the Stones on their own production. The Stones had not toured in a while and were not in top playing condition, as the Who were.

The Stones and their guests performed in a replica of a seedy big top that was actually on a British sound stage, in front of an invited audience. The performances began at around 2 p.m. on December 11, 1968, but setting up between acts took longer than planned and the cameras kept breaking down, which meant that the final performances took place at almost 5 a.m. the next morning.

Posted by ashley at 11:14 AM | TrackBack

May 29, 2007

1177: What I did with my Memorial Day weekend...

First, we watched something ancient...

And then something about pirates...

And then something about a man who loves angora...

I can't get enough of Rome, frankly. It kills me that we have to wait for Netflix to send the next one and it's almost impossible not to chain smoke a DVD as soon as we get it and watch all three (when we're lucky, sometimes it's only two) episodes.

As for Pirates... well, to be fair, it had been a while since we'd seen the previous one and although I doubt it would have helped, we probably should have watched it again because At World's End was totally baffling. I don't mean to say I didn't enjoy it, because I definitely did, but a dinosaur could have walked onto the set and I would have just had to accept that his being there made sense.

And as for Ed Wood, what can I say? I prefer traditional monsters.
What a great movie.

I'd like to take a moment to thank Miss USA for making my forcing Pete to watch the Miss Universe competition last night not in vain. Thanks to Tivo, we were able to enjoy watching her wipe out to -- of all things -- Sean Paul. Please watch the following and please shout, "SHE GOT SERVED!" upon completion.

Posted by ashley at 09:01 AM | TrackBack

May 25, 2007

1176: OMG STOP!

Pete and I still haven't watched the season finale of Lost -- so don't even think about trying to talk to me about it! Don't spoil it! Don't spoil it!!


Posted by ashley at 08:50 AM | TrackBack

May 24, 2007

1175: So cute it hurts.


(from CuteOverload)

Posted by ashley at 02:15 PM | TrackBack

May 23, 2007

1174: Hackin' up a lung

I'm back on mes pieds, friends, but don't make me laugh because laughing sends me into a coughing fit and it's not pretty.

I said, don't make me laugh!

Getting back to my usual routine, I'm pleased so see how much I was missed while I was gone and how eager people are to try to make me feel better. For instance, I like how -- even when totally inappropriate, which is most of the time -- people reference 300 for my benefit. I totally appreciate any reference to 300 because I am a huge nerd, and that's what huge nerds do, but I can't say the metaphor always works.

Posted by ashley at 09:19 AM | TrackBack

May 22, 2007

1173: Behind the (48 years of) hatred...

There lies a murderous desire for love.

Happy birthday, Morrissey!

Posted by ashley at 09:19 AM | TrackBack

May 21, 2007

1172: I don't feel good!

Thank you, everyone! Thanks for all the birthday wishes and cards and pressies! I had an awesome all-weekend birthday and I wish you could've been there.

Unfortunately, I lost that battle against a cold and I'm feeling like complete poop today. This helps...

But mostly because I received this for my birthday...

Why did we watch a movie for a second time on my birthday and not something else? Because no one will come see 300 with me any more! Well, that's kinda true. Mostly it just gave me permission to chase my brother and his girlfriend down the street at top speed, snarling and clawing in a way that should be forgiven because IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY.

How's that song go? "It's my birthday... I'll eat human flesh if I want to." Something like that.

Posted by ashley at 04:19 PM | TrackBack

May 18, 2007

1171: Bunny love.

Pete sent me this...

Edited to add: And then there's this from I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER?

I think this bunny is checking out Dewey! I mean, I don't blame 'em -- Dewey's a good lookin' bunny.

PS: It's the 19th in Australia already -- happy birthday, Lindsey!

Posted by ashley at 08:52 AM | TrackBack

May 17, 2007

1170: Those who know...

From Overheard in New York:

Teen #1: Alright, how about Christian Bale-John Preston, or Christian Bale the Batman?
Teen #2: Definitely the Batman.
Teen #1: Yeah, but it's John Preston.
Teen #2: Look, Bruce Wayne would kick John Preston's ass, Grammaton Cleric or no.
Teen #1: You know we're gonna be single forever, right?

Raise your hand if you
a) understood all of the above, and
b) actually have an opinion about it -- because I sure do.
And I'm not nearly as ashamed as I should be.

Posted by ashley at 10:25 AM | TrackBack

1169: Praise be!

For those who love I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER?

now there's LOLGAY...

(And a handy LOL-making device can be found here. Cheers.)

Posted by ashley at 10:08 AM | TrackBack

May 16, 2007

1168: iPod surprise

Sometimes my iPod surprises me with Falco. Sometimes with...

Love it.

Posted by ashley at 08:54 PM | TrackBack

1167: J'aime Dita.

Obviously.


(At the Dior show with Charlize Theron, via dlisted.)

On Galliano's collection for Dior, she says: "I have a hard time finding glamorous ways of dressing in the summer weather, and this was the way to do it. I loved the makeup, the jewelry, the shoes, the dresses. It was beautiful and sparkly and very inspiring." (From China Daily.)

Last week, Chris alerted me that she'd be performing at a benefit in the city this week. I scoped things out and due to my schedule and other confounding issues, I opted not to purchase tickets. (I was dismayed, of course, but better not to have blown a few hundred on something I ultimately wouldn't have been able to attend.) Having confused the dates, I worked myself into a fangirl frenzy outside the benefit's venue yesterday when I inexplicably convinced myself that the nicely appointed tour bus parked outside was hers. Why she would need a tour bus all to her little self, I'm not sure, but I got all weak-kneed and stupid over the possibilty. The benefit is tonight and obviously she wasn't inside the bus, napping in a giant champaign glass or something, but whatever. I'll obviously be loitering around the same place today during my lunchtime, ready to screech "WHY ARE WE NOT BEST FRIENDS!?" the moment a girl even whiter than myself materializes.

Edited to add: In a strange twist of fate, I happen to be wearing that exact color today. Totally unplanned, people. THIS IS A SIGN! A sign that Dita and I are meant to be BFF. MATCHING BFF!

Posted by ashley at 10:40 AM | TrackBack

1166: Bunny trouble!

From CuteOverload:

I woke up this morning to find my rabbit, Dewey, in a particularly strong mood to misbehave. Like all rabbits, the morning and the evening are when he's most active; the rest of the time, he seems to be flopped out on the floor like an abandoned stuffed animal or tucking himself into a rubber duck pose I like to call the "bunny boat." (Roebling, "The Brooklyn Bunny," demonstrates here.)

He's excited to see us when we wake up in the morning, and likes to get chased around the living room a little. He gets fired up about his pellets and will, grunting like a piggy, try and nudge the food bowl out of your hand in a state of greedy excitement. Amazingly, he never seems to get tired of this routine -- only really varying his behavior when he's on medication. His behavior is fairly predictable, although he does go through phases of being interested in certain things (eating books, sitting in one particular spot, nudging ankles, etc.) and will go for stretches of time not doing something before returning to it with renewed interest. Today, he seems to have rekindled his love affair with destroying our belongings.

When he was sick and on medication, his diet changed fair drastically and he had little interest in his food. He was, however, deeply interested in eating the cardboard case for a Metallica movie boxset and the spine of my favorite Helmut Newton book. What can I say? The bunny has good taste.

When I woke up this morning, he was hell-bent on destruction -- which I can respect -- but also drives me a little crazy. Whenever he gets crazy-go-nuts and destroys something I love, I'm mad for about a third of a second; I tell him he's a bad bunny (BAD BUNNY!) and then he'll do something cute -- which, being a bunny, is basically anything -- and I'll love him even more than I did before he ate the front off my special edition Sharpe's DVD collection. GOOD BUNNY!

This morning, as I was putting on my makeup, I glanced at my reflection and saw him in the distance, sitting on his hind legs and batting at something like a kitten. I was charmed until I saw that he was playing with the frayed ends of the speaker wire connecting our surround-sound speakers in the back to our stereo at the front of the room. He had snipped through the wire and was now taunting me with it, in the same way he sometimes likes to snip our phone wire like he intends to murder us. SNEAKY BUNNY!

At first, of course, I was annoyed. But when I came to stop him, he turned his attention to peeking under my bathrobe because he's also a CHEEKY BUNNY!

Posted by ashley at 09:42 AM | TrackBack

May 15, 2007

1165: How do we make this happen?

HBO seems to be suffering heavily, but it also seems to still present an interesting format for television programming. Not having commercial interruptions or network censors to worry about, that's nice, but so is being able to conceive of and produce a cinema-quality series without being limited to a window of 2-3 hours in which to present an entire story. There are other obvious benefits to this format, but I won't bother to list them. My point is just that although HBO is arguably struggling for relevance, there's so much potential for really exceptional programming.

Pete and I are always discussing movie ideas and, increasingly, HBO-style program concepts.

Some of our favorites include:

I suppose Carnivale was the closest HBO came to doing something fantasy-based (correct me if I'm wrong), but that didn't work out terribly well. The popularity of Lost has obviously proven that the general public can get into something of this nature, so why can't it also like something a little closer to horror?

By avoiding "sci-fi hokiness" I mean avoiding falling into a category of B-list sci-fi TV programming that I'll avoid beating up on because a) it's not wrong to like that stuff, and b) I don't feel like it. Obviously, the key there is to really push for top-notch writing and production values. Producing such a show would be expensive, I've no doubt, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. Producing Deadwood was expensive, but not so expensive that it didn't get made in the first place; partnering with others (such as the BBC) to make Rome, for instance, made what would otherwise be an insanely expensive production possible. As The Incredible Amoeba and I discussed the other day, 28 Weeks Later manages to horrify and amaze without having to show too much gore -- and gore done well can be pricey. Aside from an incident involving thumbs (say no more, say no more!), most of the violence is implied through editing, sound, and creative blood-splattering, and benefits heavily from the tension created by other directorial decisions.

I really, truly think it's possible to stretch something of this type out into a TV series, spanning multiple seasons. Lost presents the ideal means for accomplishing this transition, by telling the bulk of the story through flashbacks and an extensive backstory for each character. Although that show obviously has its problems and watching it has become a bit of a trying (and up until recently, fairly unrewarding) experience, it's a good example of what's possible in TV and what audiences are ready to accept. (I mean, obviously, because after Lost's first season, the networks all pushed out poorer versions of the same.) It wouldn't be necessary to start out a horror program from the start, and starting from a point further down the storyline and glimpsing backwards might even be more financially prudent.

But why horror as a category? Because there's so little quality horror out there, because audiences have indicated an interest, and because... I want it.

Another thing I want, as I mentioned above, is to see Pusher adapted for TV. From what I assume to be a Fall 2006 interview with Pusher's director, Nicolas Winding Refn, that seems to be a vague possibility...

RS (Reverse Shot): And initially you were ambivalent about returning to Pusher…

NWR: Oh I hated it. I despised it, but that’s because I was afraid. Having to go back, what if I couldn’t do it? What if I couldn’t make a better movie? I mean could you imagine anything more terrible than going back and realizing that you burned yourself out?

RS: That makes sense in that Pusher is the kind of film, where the suggestion of a sequel sounds ridiculous.

NWR: But I wouldn’t be sitting here if we hadn’t done it. It needed a different approach, and I think that came out of television, and my love for TV, especially The Sopranos, which basically set a whole new standard for making fiction for the small screen. Television is probably is a lot more inventive than cinema is right now. Pusher II and III were conceived like a television series, but instead of making it for TV, I made them as features. I’ve just been contacted by one of the major networks in the U.S. about doing Pusher as a television series.

I don't think it would need to be re-written to take place in America, either; I think US audiences would accept the story just as it is and have no issue with its taking place in Denmark. I suppose my point with all of this is that TV audiences are far more willing to accept the seemingly unfamiliar than networks may imagine. So give us horror! And Danish people!

* Naturally, I suggest Michael Mann to direct this, and for Winding Refn to direct the TV-adaptation of Pusher.

Posted by ashley at 11:22 AM | TrackBack

1164: Right on!

I saw this on the news this morning, and then again on Gothamist. An 11-year-old girl was walking home with Mother's Day gifts when she noticed a man following her. Although he managed to grab her before she could reach her apartment, she kept her wits about her enough to eventually slip free and alert others who quickly came to her rescue and detained the would-be kidnapper until Police arrived.

Obviously, it's a terrible thing for an 11-year-old to have to endure something like this, and a sad state of affairs that she felt compelled to plan for such an attack -- but doing so may have saved her life. I'm impressed.

Captain kid: Street-smart 4-foot-5 girl fights off 6-foot-2 kidnap suspect, helps in arrest
(Nicole Bode, Daily News, 5/15/07)

Eleven-year-old Xochil Garcia kept herself ready for the worst, constantly rehearsing in her mind how she could escape an attacker or kidnapper.

Little did she know her hours of mental preparation would pay off - possibly saving the Brooklyn girl's life.

Last night, the 4-foot-5, 80-pound sixth-grader was hailed as a hero for fighting off an attacker twice her size - then having the wits about her to help capture the suspect.

"I always make my plan before there's a robbery or a kidnap[ping]," Xochil said from her Midwood home. "I think of a plan, like, if anybody kidnaps me, kick them back or scratch them - I'm growing my nails out. I went with Plan B."

Plan B meant yanking backward with all her might as Bernard Mutterperl, 19, allegedly grabbed her in her apartment stairwell Sunday, dragged her into the lobby and tried to take her to another set of stairs leading to the roof.

But Mutterperl, who stands 6-foot-2, had picked the wrong target.

"I always tell her, whatever happens, whatever these men do, don't go with them for anything," said mom Martha Hernandez. "Thank God she knows how to defend herself."

Xochil was heading home from the corner store with a new bottle of nail polish for her mom on Mother's Day.

The street-smart pixie spotted Mutterperl tailing her about a block from home and instinctively began to run for the door.

She recalled seeing him talking to her landlord before, she said, and wondered if she had misjudged him.

But after making it up two and a half flights of stairs in her building, Mutterperl grabbed her just short of her apartment, she said.

"He grabbed my mouth and told me to not scream. I thought he was going to take me up to the roof and rape me or something like that," Xochil said.

"When [we] went downstairs, he loosened my wrist a little bit. And I took advantage of that and I broke out of where he was holding me and I ran outside."

Mutterperl was arraigned last night in Brooklyn Criminal Court on charges of unlawful imprisonment, endangering the welfare of a child and burglary. Bail was set at $25,000 cash or $75,000 bond.

"I was really scared," Xochil said. "I never thought this would happen to me. But I calmed down so I could remember my plan."

She waited for Mutterperl's hand to go slack, then made a dash toward the building's front door. There, sobbing and shaking, she pressed all the buzzers in the building, summoning her 18-year-old brother, Angel Garcia, and several other concerned neighbors.

Meanwhile, Mutterperl scrambled to escape, trying the roof and the basement doors before stripping down to his white undershirt in an attempt to conceal his identity, witnesses said.

When he tried to sneak out the front door, the brave girl and her neighbors were waiting.

"My brother said, 'Is that him?' I said, 'Yes.' My brother said, 'Hold on a minute. You're not going anywhere.' Then that's when he took off," she recalled.

Neighbor Timothy Isaac, 25, Angel Garcia, and at least three others caught up to the suspect, bringing him down on the sidewalk across the street.

At first, Mutterperl, of Borough Park, Brooklyn, protested his innocence. But as they waited for cops to arrive, he changed his tune, saying, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. I won't do it again," as the crowd pummeled him to keep him from escaping, Isaac said.

Xochil, who called for her attacker to get a stiff sentence, warned other kids to think safety first. "Try to figure out a plan before somebody tries to kidnap you. That way if somebody tries to touch you, you're ready to attack them back."

Edited to add: Here's The Gift of Fear. It was written by Gavin de Becker, who (according to Wikipedia) is a "specialist in security issues, especially for governments, corporations, and celebrities."

Posted by ashley at 10:26 AM | TrackBack

May 14, 2007

1163: Not how I'd like to be remembered

Embarrassing things I've been overheard saying lately:

* There is, needless to say, a backstory to this. It involves a coworker who, rather inexplicably, chose to fling a slice of tomato that had fallen on the floor not into the garbage bin but into the toilet of the ladies' room. I was startled and confused by this discovery, when I later entered that room for the purpose of obsessively reapplying my eyeliner for the millionth time that day. Much later, as Jon and I were discussing this in the hallway outside our office, a man stepped out of an elevator at a time when really no one seems to use that elevator. He politely pretended not to hear the words "pooh stain."

Posted by ashley at 02:01 PM | TrackBack

1162: Maturity

I just got a little inappropriately giddy when I realized what I want to do for my birf'day this weekend.

First, this...

and then a little of this*...

and then this, again...

OMG, best birthday ever!

* I couldn't find a better picture of a taco. What we eat won't actually look like Old El Paso crap. It will look more like... uh, really good Mexican food.

Posted by ashley at 12:06 PM | TrackBack

1161: CELEBRITY SIGHTING: RICHARD KRUSPE

Yesterday, just as we were leaving the restaurant after having brunch with Mom for Mother's Day, we found ourselves standing directly in the path of Richard Kruspe.

This obviously means nothing to quite a few of you, but a lot to some -- including myself.

I love Rammstein and frankly, if you wanna have a go at me for it -- do it. I've been a dedicated fan for a decade now, and I can distinctly remember the first time I heard them; riding in the backseat of a rental car during a family vacation to see relatives down in Georgia, my brother handed me his copy of the Lost Highway soundtrack. "Listen to Track 20," he said, and I was completely, 100% sold. Whatever criticism you can throw at them for being overly simplistic or unpolished, it really doesn't matter in the slightest to me.

I find them funny, cheeky, and pleasingly grotesque. And after too many disappointing concert experiences to count, where a band seems to feel the audience ought to be grateful for their even having shown up at the venue (*ahem* Echo & the Bunnymen), I genuinely appreciate Rammstein's commitment to performance. I've yet to take anyone to see them who hasn't left impressed and excited. Given the nature of Rammstein's music, it seems unlikely that you could just bring people with zero interest in that category and turn them into fans simply on the strength of the band's performance -- but that's exactly what's happened whenever I've brought people to their first Rammstein show.

"I'm sure he never gets recognized," Pete said later. I should have said something when I spotted him over my dad's shoulder, but I didn't. I must have looked surprised because he smiled as he rounded the corner with a plastic shopping bag in either hand.

I have no idea what I'd have said -- maybe find out when they'd get back to playing stateside again, or what's new with his side project. The last time I had tickets to see them, I was in London and had hired out the perfect Snow White costume for the occasion. Unfortunately, the show was cancelled because the venue wouldn't allow them to stage their full pyrotechnics display and the band bowed out rather than compromising the show. (I was disappointed, but it did free up more time for me to stay in Ireland on vacation.)

In any event, when I thought later about what I could have said to him on the sidewalk, it occurred to me that the thing which had most struck me about him was something I'd read in an interview several years ago -- how his step-dad had torn down his KISS poster and ripped it to shreds when he was 12, and how he had stayed up all night meticulously putting it back together. Things like that go a long way with me. Things like that and, you know, small explosions.

Posted by ashley at 08:50 AM | TrackBack

May 12, 2007

1160: Not dead, just hungry for brains.

Apologies for the lack of updates yesterday -- interweb issues, you know how it is. I can't say that my mood has improved considerably since my last post, but I can say that this is helped...

Naturally.*

So has seeing 28 Weeks Later, which I was initially a little wary about seeing on account of the sour taste 28 Days Later left in my movie-loving mouth. On a whim, Pete and I opted to see it on opening night and unwittingly found ourselves surrounded by zombie enthusiasts. Fair enough. I've nothing against being a fan of something and I can totally understand going all-out for something you love, but, well, I didn't quite understand going all-out in the way these fans were. Here's a photo, featured on Gothamist, of some of the fans seated in our showing of 28 Weeks Later.

We first noticed them milling around in Union Square. Unable to get into see the showing of Spiderman 3 we wanted to see, we headed up to the north side of the park to see what else was playing in the neighborhood. Our path took us through a sizable crowd of people covered in fake blood and zombie costumes of varying success. (The girl in the above photo did, by the way, eventually put on a skirt. That she walked around in a thong and skank boots was unappealing in and of itself, but the idea of her sitting bare-butt on a never-cleaned movie theater seat makes my stomach turn faster than a zombiefied Robert Carlyle can run.) To some, there seemed to be a little confusion between "Mall Goth" and "Zombie" but I digress...

As we headed into the theater, following a little dinner, we found ourselves seated among the zombie-fans we'd seen in the park. More than a few plump Mall Goth princesses-of-the-night paraded up and down the aisle in their Hot Topic best as if gracefully weathering the stresses of hosting such an event, huffing and craning their chubby necks in an effort to be sure that boy they liked would finally arrive. He did, and he came dressed as The Crow, obviously -- but because this was a zombie movie, he added some red food coloring and corn syrup to the corner of his mouth. Of course, I'm writing from the dubious Goth-snob height of someone low enough to be snobby about this kind of thing, but whatever. Snob, yes, but look at what I'm being snobby about, folks. Come on.

Anyway.

The teenyboppers held court in the theater while I smirked, safe in the knowledge that because I wasn't wearing the prescribed and stereotyped uniform of a Goth Squad misfit, I could slip among them undetected; slithering around their inferior, blister-causing boots before screeching "BAUHAUS!" and sinking my aged Old Skool fangs right into their baby-bat fat. Actually, one girl showed up in a self-made Columbia costume, which I kind of enjoyed until it seemed she would keep that sparkling hat on throughout the film (she didn't). See -- I'm not all bad. I'm just 1337!

Just before the lights went down and we were shown trailers for -- among other things -- Transformers (yes!), one of the girls seated in front of us giggled to her friend, "Let's root for the zombies!" Pete and I winced.

Rooting for the zombies would seem like a totally obvious thing to do in most zombie movies, where zombies are stand-ins for, duh, mindless people. In those instances, they're scripted to do unintentionally humorous things or ordinary things made humorous by virtue of the fact that the people doing those things are zombies. That zombies mill about malls like overwhelmed, spending-fatigued shoppers is for yuks -- but there aren't any of those zombies in this particular zombie franchise. These zombies aren't funny in the least -- they're horrifying! They're like ravenous animals, running at insane speeds and offering absolutely no opportunity for escape. What's more, they seem to be in complete agony all the while. They're not, as many people in the audience seemed inclined to believe, prone to drooling and muttering "Braaaaaains!" They just want to rip you to shreds like cracked-out hyenas; they hiss, vomit blood, and shriek like eagles! There's nothing funny about these zombies!

That more than one person thought to yell "Braaaaaains!" before or during the movie (no one shouted it after someone from the other side of the room finally yelled, "SHUT UP!") was a little astounding. Some people love zombie movies -- I totally respect that, in fact, some of you lovely people love zombie movies. I wouldn't say that they're my favorite horror sub-genre, but I do like them and I totally understand the appeal. I think for Pete and me, the appeal lies in what L'Amoeba Incredible accurately described as being "survivalist." We like the against-all-(horrifying)-odds plight of the hero more than we like watching people's intestines being ripped out and consumed (although that has its own sick appeal). 28 Days Later, before it went to poop, was that sort of movie and 28 Weeks Later definitely is -- and I don't believe either ever aspired to be a straight-up, "Ha ha! Did you see that? Zombies are dumb, bro!" kind of movie.

Needless to say, as soon as the zombies showed up, there was no "rooting" to speak of; there was no Darth Vader moment where people like me applaud the film's villain announcing that he expects Mr. Bond to die. I like the villains. Hell, I love the villains. But the zombies in 28 Weeks Later are not the kinds of villains you can love -- they're not really villains at all. They're "infected" people, robbed of their humanity by a virus which seems to inflict a crazy amount of pain on each and every one of them. The mood of the audience, which had been giddy with each pre-show "Braaaaaains!" zombie groan, quickly snapped into one of collective fright and revulsion. This is a nasty movie! There were a few laughs, but not quite the laughs that many people in the audience seemed to anticipate. Did they not see 28 Days Later?

Despite our initial hesitation, Pete and I really liked this film. To say that it had some plot problems would be an understatement but as with most movies of this type, you have to forgive those issues, which is easy to do when the rest of the film rewards that forgiveness with out-and-out gore. In all fairness, I may not be able to excuse poor eyeliner application but I can excuse all kinds of plot issues in a movie I've already decided to enjoy. Pete likes to talk about the time Chris asked me to rate a movie on "a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being V for Vendetta." 28 Weeks Later has some big problems, which I won't blurt out here for fear of ruining anything about the movie for those of you who haven't seen it yet, but overall, I enjoyed it and we had a good time. And who knew that 2007 would be the year that so many zombies would get cut down by helicopter blades? (Do you think anyone involved with 28 Weeks Later saw Grindhouse and thought, "Doh!"?)

* And do you ever wish White Zombie would get back together? I do. Maybe I'll wish for that when I blow out my candles next week. Cross your zombie-loving, go-go girl fingers!

Posted by ashley at 08:19 PM | TrackBack

May 10, 2007

1159: "My life is a joke!"

I've got a birthday coming up and I'm not particularly stoked about it. I used to get really fired up about having a wild-and-crazy time but that seemed to come to an end when I turned 25. We went to a Morrissey night down in the East Village, where I was probably the youngest person in the bar but I still felt old and decrepit. And sweaty because it was a bajillion degrees in there. And then, a little bit mute because I'd unwittingly been screaming all night.

Getting older is only one factor in my birthday-deflation but it's a big one. Chris, as Pete once did, sips the life-saving elixir known as Pom juice in his quest to fight off the chilly hands of death. Actually, I'm not too concerned about dying, I just don't want to be in a position to look at my life and feel I'm slippin' -- do you know what I mean? I don't want to wonder, "Is this what I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life?" (at this rate, yes), or "Should I have a baby or something?" (oh, hell no), or "Am I too old to continue dressing like a 12-year-old goth boy?" (nah, I still got it!). While others are concerned about their body's decay, I am really only concerned about continuing to live in the privileged state of youthful obliviousness.

Getting physically older does, of course, occur to me but only out of a fear of getting haggard. Logically, I understand that good physical health is the best means to fight off the ravages of old age but there's only so much a person can do. As Chris and I discussed yesterday, if we did/ate/drank everything we read that we were supposed to be doing/eating/drinking we'd have no time to have a life (or a job!) because we'd be fat, bloated and always having to pee. So I pick carefully from among these age-fighting recommendations and go with what will have the most significant and immediately reward for my outward appearance. For instance, I wear SPF 30 - 45 every single day of the year and apply Retinol at night. I want to be as pale as a sheet but without the winkles. I also sandblast my face with an at-home microdermabrasion kit which is probably not a good idea but it feels so nice (in the way that most beautifying treatments basically don't feel like something you ought to be doing to yourself). I look forward to having the same singular facial expression as Nicole Kidman does 24/7. (Do you think she can close her eyes to sleep?)

But as with all matters of vanity and glamor, I take my cues from my wee, fierce-looking hero...

Lindsey sent me this photo album of how Posh has upped her hotness over the years. (Thank you!) There's probably some tut-tutting message in the copy written for this feature but, as usual, I'm willfully oblivious to it. So, maybe she spent a lot of money to look more like an alien -- so what? If I had an endless supply of money and not much to occupy my time, I can see myself getting crazy-go-nuts with the plastic surgery too. I'd have some ribs removed (or is that just an urban myth?) and have a crank installed in my arm such that when I spun my arm around Barbie-style,* my hair would double in length. Also, I'd have a shotgun installed in one arm, which could fire when I flung my wrist back at a 90 degree angle. Wouldn't that be great? Also, I would be able to time travel.

I forgot what I was talking about.

Oh, yeah, my birthday. Well, I probably won't be getting that shotgun-arm like I wanted so - sigh - I'll just have to do without. Whatever. The real problem is that I can't figure out what I'd rather have or do for my birthday. You'd think that living in New York, there'd be an endless list of things to do but the truth is... I don't know. I'm bored. And depressed. And waaaaaaah! *wipes nose on sleeve*

Ugh, I don't know. I'm finding that I prefer to have smaller, non-party parties for my birthday. I'll go all-out stupid for Halloween, but not so much for my birthday. Last year, we had burgers (sadly, not Big Kahuna burgers) and milkshakes (probably $5 milkshakes) and watched Pulp Fiction, which was inexplicably being screened on the Upper West Side that night and absolutely the kind thing I enjoy doing. Pete suggested a similar thing for this year (when I'll be 27) but I feel so down and pathetic, I might rather lay in a ditch feeling bad for myself and weeping bitterly. I can't think of anyone playing in the city that I'd like to see that night (which, unfortunately, is a Sunday) nor any movies I absolutely must see or I might DIE. I'll think of something, but I'm taking suggestions -- anyone? (And no, I don't think I can drag anyone but Chris to se 300 again -- even if we did it in costume.)

On an unrelated note, I had a strange but not unpleasant thing happen to me on the subway this morning. I was busy reading, as usual, and sensed that the man next to me was reading over my shoulder. Fine. That happens a lot and I don't really blame people because sometimes it's hard to fight that urge, although generally it only happens when the person next to you is reading something newsworthy or personally interesting to you. Not, like, you know, The Oxford History of Greece & The Hellenistic World which is what I happened to be reading. (Shut up!) Any way, I glanced at our reflection in the window in front of me and saw that he was very eagerly reading over my shoulder, and smiling. A little weird, yes, but also kind of endearing. Nerds of the world unite!

* Speaking of Barbie, is it wrong to kind of want one for my birthday? True love never dies!

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May 09, 2007

1158: Thief!

Rihanna stole my hair! WTF!

And screw all the commenters who said it looked ugly. My hair is bangin' -- that's why everyone steals it!

Posted by ashley at 12:27 PM | TrackBack

1157: "This is rock and roll"

I was wrong. We don't march to the beat of this drummer. It's this one...

(Thanks, Scott!)

This reminds me of a fairly massive keyboard we had growing up. It had millions and millions of simulated instruments and -- of course -- some awesomely bad sound effects. Personally, I was kind of into the simulated claps. (Just the claps!") But perhaps the most impressive feature was the "demo" button, which -- when pressed -- would force the keyboard to pound out the most heartfelt, no holds barred rendition of Paula Abdul's "The Way That You Love Me." Now that's rock and roll, folks!

Everyone... let's bring it back to the chorus... The Cheat is not dead... so glad the Cheat is not dead!

PS: Whatever happened to our drummer friend, the caped crusader?

Posted by ashley at 10:50 AM | TrackBack

1156: Le sigh.

Here's where all that edumacation comes in handy. Rather than just complaining and detailing all the things that have got me in such an unhappy state, I can just say that I'm somewhere between...

and...

Edited to add: Well, this helps... kinda. Thank you, Cute Overload.

Posted by ashley at 09:40 AM | TrackBack

May 08, 2007

1155: "I'm talking about violence!"

The Saunders kids march to the beat of a different drummer. Specifically, this one:

To that end, we have failed to get over 300 while the rest of the world moved on several million years ago. Whatever. Bite me. Bite us both. You see this tattoo? It's a clown and it symbolizes street warfare. See, I'm part of the clowns now, you dig? Yeah, I thought so.

As many of you know (but most of you don't), I was an art history student. As even fewer of you probably know, I was only about a credit away from also having a minor in classical archaeology -- something which would have undoubtedly served me well in the competitive world of... uh... hmm. Whatever. Don't hate! JEALOUS!

Likewise, Chris gets a lot of use out of his degree in history when he, uh, plays Rome: Total War.

He's fussed with it so that his men no longer look just like "red mummies" but "red mummies with things on their heads." This makes them Spartans. See? History! Sadly, I don't think they ever get around to doing this kind of thing:

It's the leg flying off at about 22 seconds (or 46, if you watch it directly on the YouTube site -- why are the clocks always reversed when the clip is embedded?) that really puts a smile on my face. Some girls like dinner by candlelight. Some girls like fresh flowers. Me? Stylized violence.

Speaking of... 28 Weeks Later, anyone?

Pete and I are a little bitter about the first one to varying degrees. I'd really hoped it would be more but after starting out so strong, it just... went a little From Dusk 'Till Dawn, if you know what I mean. I felt so disappointed that it actually messed with my desire to see Dawn of the Dead. That, of course, ended up being completely great, but my anxiety about the 28 Days Later franchise lingers on -- is the new one going to stink? Mr. Amoeba, any thoughts? (By the way, I tried to message you through Myspace earlier but every time I logged in, I got spammed with a bajillion fake messages and the only way to deal with it was to log out and scream at my compy for a while. Has that been happening to anyone else lately?)

* NB: The title of this entry refers to Outlaw, which I've still not seen and continue to fear the worst for; nevertheless, watching Ronin with Pete reminded me how much I love the Bean. I mean, he plays Spence so distressingly pathetic that you can't help but despise him -- and yet elsewhere, he's totally my hero and the greatest military hero the world has ever known. Favoritest actor ever! When will he be in a zombie movie?! He'd die in it, of course, but wouldn't that be great?

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May 07, 2007

1154: "Why, he's toasterific!"

I am a bad person. I did not see Spiderman 3 over the weekend.

In my defense, it's not my fault. Or, anyway, it's nobody's fault. We were down in Killadelphia to see Pete's family and I'd semi-anticipated that we'd be catching it next weekend with Chris & Loren (a comedy team, a law firm, a fashion brand) in proper IMAX fashion.

I was not bothered by the delay simply because I wasn't -- to be honest -- that excited about the movie in the first place. I liked the first two, particularly because I found myself walking through the set of the second one almost every day for a stretch of time, and who doesn't like to see Bruce Campbell now and then? For whatever reason, I just couldn't get myself worked up about seeing it but I was obviously happy to do so. You'd think that the allure of the black spidey suit would be enough to win me over but I never found myself more than moderately excited about it. Perhaps if they'd thrown in some slow-mo decapitations, I'd be all over it like gold-flecked bronzer on Xerxes -- but, of course, Spiderman usually holds back on that sort of thing. C'est dommage.

Anyway, I know I'm not alone in my vague indifference here because a number of you have admitted to me feeling similarly. The fact that we didn't see Spiderman 3 this past weekend only now bothers me because those same people have come back and told me that it was OMG AWESOME. I'm warned to keep my expectations as low as they had been, which is basically impossible now that I've heard how much fun it was, but I'm doing my best -- a situation which frustrates me doubly because now it seems I won't be seeing it this upcoming weekend either. Chris & Loren will be in California and thus unable to see it with us. Damn it!

Well, there's always this, as The Incredible Amoeba -- another Spidey-watcher -- reminds me:

Posted by ashley at 10:58 AM | TrackBack

May 04, 2007

1153: Jeff Grosso

In my recap of Rising Son (which we watched earlier this week), I totally forgot to mention what an impression Jeff Grosso's interview segments made on us.

He spoke with such sincerity and humility, that it was utterly heartbreaking to hear him describe his own difficulties and near-death experiences with drugs. There wasn't an ounce of studied and rehearsed world-wariness in his delivery, nor any manner of badge-of-honor pride in anything he said. And unlike Hosoi, who seemed to have been surrounded by people who continually bailed him out (and inadvertently enabled his self-destructive behavior), Grosso seemed to lack that network of well-intentioned supporters. Truthfully, I found myself much more touched by his story than Hosoi's. For all his charisma, Hosoi came across as less sympathetic than Grosso, despite the fact that Hosoi's downfall (and return) was the subject of the film.

Here's Grosso interviewed as part of a promotion for Independent.

Posted by ashley at 09:44 AM | TrackBack

1152: Good kitty needs good home.

I saw this on Gothamist this morning, concerning a cat ("Julie") living/working at an NYC bodega. The Department of Health is demanding she be given a new home ASAP, or the store will have to be closed.

Here's the link:

Bodega's Mouser Needs a New Home

And here's Julie:

Posted by ashley at 09:20 AM | TrackBack

1151: Anglophenia

I don't know why I've never paid more attention to the BBC America site, because now that I've gone and done so, I'm completely in love with it -- naturally.

It came to my attention in a Google Alert for Morrissey (again, naturally), and I was directed to this entry in the site's Anglophenia blog:

Gillian Reynolds: Why I Love Morrissey
posted Wednesday, May 2, 2007

The Daily Telegraph's radio critic Gillian Reynolds has written one of the most eloquent pieces on Morrissey I've ever read and sums up why I still kneel at his altar:

You can't always like or approve of him yet he commands admiration. His songs may sometimes make you blush but, more often, flinch through their lack of compromise.

He lives in Rome now, wears "exquisite suits and lovely socks", but is still writing lyrics that hit the heart because they are about secret thoughts - identity, disability, nationality, scorn for the culture of celebrity, despair. He explores issues politicians avoid, says things poets don't dare.

The Daily Telegraph article can be read in full here.

Posted by ashley at 08:53 AM | TrackBack

May 03, 2007

1150: Rising Son

Last night, Pete and I finished Rising Son -- a documentary on the life of professional skateboarder turned Jesus freak Christian Hosoi.

A while back, we'd watched a similar documentary on Mark "Gator" Rogowski and been a bit disappointed by the film itself, but not in its ability to paint a portrait of the former skater and convicted murderer. Stoked: The Rise and Fall of Gator, while poorly edited and not entirely well-conceived, managed to present its subject in greater depth than Rising Son did, but as Pete pointed out to me this morning, perhaps that's because Hosoi is simply a harder person than Gator to fully know. If the interviews in Stoked shed more light on Gator as a human being, exploring his inability to cope with the evolution of his sport and how he found himself left completely behind, that may say something about the subject itself more than the manner in which its explored. There is nothing particularly different about the interviews in Rising Son except that they fail to provide any greater perspective on Hosoi and his troubles.

I wondered if the film wouldn't have been a bit better without Hosoi chiming in periodically in his own interview segments, but I'm not sure it would. It just seems a little awkward to have twenty minutes of former friends praising him endlessly and then cut to Hosoi unabashedly accepting that praise. Frankly, it made Hosoi, an otherwise completely lovable showboater, seem a bit lame. Released from jail (where he claims to have found Jesus during his very first week of imprisonment), he now speaks with the I-have-been-through-Hell-and-it-wasn't-pretty weight of a former addict who seems vaguely impressed with his past. As a young thing, he was hot,* funny and fantastically charasmatic but we only come to hear about the emptiness that led to his career-ending addiction through the lens of his newfound Jesus-love. Pete and I don't think this born-again thing is going to last for Hosoi, but maybe he'll continue to stay clean and do positive things with his life; he's got God-given talent but he seems to have traded one addiction for another -- but at least this one won't get him arrested.

To be fair, I really did like this movie but maybe it's the subject I liked more than the film's execution. The footage is simply amazing and it's almost impossible to not fall in love with Hosoi.

He's dynamic and insanely talented, but we may never know more about him than what we see on the surface. None of the interviews with friends or family seen here seem to be able to offer more insight than this; Pete wonders if maybe that's simply all there is to Hosoi -- could it be? When Hosoi describes reading a used Bible in jail, I only partially believe his story. It seemed too rehearsed and a bit false, particularly for someone who seemed to walk through life with such natural grace and naive confidence in his own greatness. There has to be something more to him, something underneath this new artifice that he's so carefully constructed while imprisoned. It's a shame that Rising Son couldn't find whatever that happened to be. I mean, he named one of his kids "Classic" -- the man is a legend!

* Like Pete, Hosoi is a bit of a hapa. I mention this because whenever we encounter such a person, I like to point out to Pete that these are "his people in their essence" just for yucks. No one but Pete gets the reference, but he's my favorite person to talk to so whatever. It came from a random episode of the Real World, when it was filmed in Philly. A black cast member claimed to enjoy taking his non-black castmates on uncomfortable rides through rougher neighborhoods because he enjoyed their squirming discomfort (which he seemed to read as indicative of their racism -- not, like, an expression of displeasure and concern for one's safety while being forced to ride through bad neighborhoods ni the middle of the night, driven by a complete tool). He claimed he enjoyed these rides because he enjoyed being among his "people in their essence." Is it not a petit peu racist to describe the essence of one's people as being... poor? Living in tough conditions? Whatever, like I said, he was a complete tool.

Posted by ashley at 10:07 AM | TrackBack

May 02, 2007

1149: "Hey, Dr. Jones, no time for love."

I'm crazy busy but this makes the day so much better:

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May 01, 2007

1148: "These go to 11."

Pour Monsieur Amoeba:

Edited to add: Oh, God, even after seeing this 3,467 times, this still makes me snort in delight...

Posted by ashley at 11:25 AM | TrackBack

1147: Planet Waste of Time

Yes, I know something wonky is going on with mah blog but I'll figure it out later. Right now, it's time for that movie recap I promised earlier...

Warning: Possible Grindhouse spoilers ahead. Also, a lot of unchecked rage.

We made a concerted effort to catch up on our movie-watching this weekend. Hectic work schedules, exhaustion, family obligations, and my desire to watch 300 whenever and wherever possible delayed our seeing Grindhouse and Hot Fuzz by several weeks.

As the poor reviews and terrible ticket sales should have clued us in... Grindhouse was stinky -- not stinky like rotting-but-still-mobile corpses, just plain stinky. Neither film needed to be as long as they were, but perhaps the decision to keep them so long helped give us that shameful feeling of having wasted a beautiful afternoon in a dark movie theater watching things that we'd feel compelled to lie to our parents about having seen. Well, except for the fact that not only would I tell my parents about it, they'd totally come with us. I love you, Mom & Dad!

So, in some sense, Grindhouse kinda-sorta fulfilled the goal of giving viewers the experience of seedy, shameful grindhouse cinema -- if only by creating that sense of shame through actually wasting viewers' time and thereby leaving them with the feeling of "What have I done with my weekend? Why did I do that?" I don't know. If you're like me, it was because you wanted to see a girl with a machine gun for a leg. But, if you're like me, you also felt a pang of jealousy when you first saw that Grindhouse poster and realized that someone else had been cast in the very role you were meant to play. (ARGH!) Truthfully, I was a little heartbroken that she didn't a) make that machine gun leg herself and b) that it didn't happen much earlier in the film. I don't think I'm ruining this for anyone but she only has the gun for about as long as she does in the trailer. *Boo!*

At least Rodriguez was committed to making a film that not only had something kinda-sorta like a plot but also stayed loyal to the concept behind the whole project, which was -- duh -- to make a grindhouse double feature. Tarantino's half was barely worth even mentioning, except that it made me fall in love with Rose McGowan for the second time in one day and inspired in me the desire to drive a muscle car like a complete maniac with a Kiwi lady strapped to the hood.

Honestly, I hate Tarantino right now. I am so sick of his ham-like mug forcing its way on screen for NO REASON and the fact that no one in Hollywood seems capable of telling this fool when to hold back. Unlike Rodriguez, who up until now I really could take or leave as a director, Tarantino seems incapable of growing or evolving. The dialogue that might have seemed fresh 10-12 years ago is now just overindulged and, frankly, boring. Death Proof amounted to two car crash/chase scenes, but the bulk of the movie is spent wasted on dialogue that isn't even remotely funny or interesting. Stick a fork in Tarantino because he's DONE. "Rodriguez could have done 300," Pete pointed out later, but no one in Hollywood would ever ask Tarantino to do anything but something in the narrow category of film in which he's proved himself in already. Ahem, Kubrick, anyone?

Phew!

I'm sorry. I'm just hurt. I was honestly excited about these movies, much like our friend, schlock-aficionado Monsieur Amoeba who was also disappointed by the end result. I have loved, insanely, Tarantino movies in the past but Death Proof was overindulged in an embarrassing way. All of the self-referential nods to previous films of his... totally undeserved. The only glory in Death Proof was when Kurt Russell and McGowan shared the screen, and the final car chase, although it never quite gave me enough to fully satisfy.

I wanted to see Zoë stand up on the hood with the gun. And what was the point of having Rosario Dawson move to the passenger seat when she really did nothing but scream? Why didn't she grab the driver's gun and point it at Russell? And although I hate to reference Mean Girls, Quentin, stop trying to make "Ship's Mast" happen. One thing I'm pleased about is how, in my travels around teh internets, I see everyone mentioning Tarantino's obvious foot fetish being featured in this film just as it's featured in virtually everything else he's done. I feel like I called that ages ago but I'm glad to see it validated by others, even if mentioning it here is sure to bring all kinds of unsavory characters to my blog. I guess it's nice to have a break from people coming here to find out about Bam Margera's wedding (seriously, you people act like I was there or something) or GBut's workout routine (uh, I suspect he spent more time in the gym than reading my blog).

Other than Russell getting socked in the face repeatedly (but why did he cry like a baby?!), here is my other favorite part of Grindhouse -- Rose McGowan's dance during the opening credits of Planet Terror. (No clicking if go-go dancers with two functional legs offend you.)

I think one of my favorite things about horror movies -- in particular, zombie movies -- is that they always reinforce my belief that Pete and I are soul mates. There is no one on Earth I have more faith in to survive a zombie attack, and that is truly an essential cornerstone of any lasting relationship. If you suspect that your significant other might trip at an inopportune time, causing them to delay your escape and jeopardize your survival by allowing a ravenous brain-eater to grab his or her ankle... well, you've got some thinking to do. If your significant other can't be trusted to secure the correct zombie-destroying weapons or to follow commands without question (because second-guessing and hesitation get people killed by zombies almost as often as failure to sufficiently arm oneself), then I think you need to ask yourself -- when all the world is zombified and we're armed to the teeth in the last secure and heavily fortified place on Earth, do I see myself growing old with this person? If you're not 100% sure that the answer to that question is 'Yes' you need to walk away right now. Don't look back -- never, ever look back! Just run. Run for your life! Run to the workshed and get that chainsaw! In fact, maybe you ought to lock your significant other up in the basement before he or she puts you in the awkward position of having to blow out their once-loved brains with that sawed-off shotgun you keep in the kitchen. If you can't count on your loved one in a zombie attack, is it really love?

Think about it. But just don't stand near that boarded up window while you do.

(I'll get on Hot Fuzz a bit later -- apologies for the delay!)

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