January 10, 2009

Fictional Mail Bag

It’s my first day at my new job, and because things are so new I have a little spare time on my hands. I-wanna-blog! I have a bunch of quick, separate things that I want to include. The most effective way of bouncing around topics, yet still holding the reader’s attention? The "mail bag." If you know the format well, then you will be down like a night gown. The catch is, I don’t really get mail, let alone fan mail asking me my opinion about stuff. That is why this mail bag is fiction.

Reader No. 1: Ross Perot

"Hey Joel. We haven’t played chess in a while. How was your New Years Eve?”

In short, it wasn’t in my Top 5. When I think of some of the best NYEs, I think of when me and Jayme Fowler road tripped up to Lawrence, Kansas with Emily and Ryan Shaffer. I got to dance to non-rap music and went to a party at a house called “Yellow Door” and built up enough mojo to make out with two cute girls. Note: that was perhaps at the of height the 100-pushups-a-day days.

The other NYE that comes to mind was when a bunch of us rented out a reasonable hotel suite and Jeff Rob Jeff JChan and Naimul were ALL there. There were plenty of chicks there too. Everybody was having a blast. We played spin the bottle and took pictures. Plus, it snowed a lot that night and my dad didn’t want us to drive around, so he dropped off two large pizzas for us. I went a bit out of control with the New Year’s Eve business later on, but it was all in great fun.

This year I went up to Lincoln, which, yeah, was a pretty good time. I got introduced to Matt Smith’s crew and played a couple of my favorite drinking games like Circle of Death and Apples to Apples (Did you know the green card you get when you win a hand in A-to-A supposedly describes you? How does that work? This bothered me, because after I found that out I took a look at my cards. I got ‘Creative.’ Okay, sweet. I had a few other pretty-much sweet cards, don't remember them exactly, but then I saw that one of my cards was ‘DESPERATE.’ :( f*ck!! What a shitty card. After the games, one of Matt’s friends was nice enough to drive us downtown to a bar called Arthur's. I was able to order a pitcher of Hopilua, which I really dig. It's my favorite beer right now, but they are sold out of it at HyVee. Blerrgg!

That was all pretty fun, but for some reason the bar decided not to have an NYE count down. They announced something like “Hey, in one minute come grab some champagne on the other side of the bar.” But they never said “10! 9! 8!...3! 2! 1!!!” Also, and this is the worst part of the night, technically, my streak of New Years Eve kisses was broken. It’s okay though. I had a good run, and the only reason the streak ended was due to mostly bullshit circumstances.

Reader No. 2: John Legend

What’s happening, Joel? I’m just driving around in my $45 million military tank. Unfortunately, my ipod fell into one of the gears. I bought a new one and haven’t put anything on there yet. It's empty. I need to get some songs on there. Been listening to anything good lately?”

My friend Ross Wait from Debate Camp, back at Northwestern in 2002, recently made a note on Facebook with a list of CDs he liked in 2008. I don’t talk with him much at all, but I remembered he was really into Beck and he once recommended that I listen to Explosions in the Sky. That turned out to be pretty cool, so I decided to download one of his recs in his “Best of ’08” list.

The band Fuck Buttons’ album “Street Horrrsing” will scare the pants off you. A different one of their songs could make you laugh your pants off. Another has the potential to amp you up enough til you dance your pants off. Whatever the case, no pants.

It’s something I can see a lot of people not liking, even I didn’t like it within the first 30 seconds, but if you at least attempt to ride that feeling that accompanies an intensified sound, rather than be totally bummed out by the lack of lyrics, you may find something wild. The best of it is like waking up to a brand new day.

Reader No. 3 Sarj “Rum and Rum” Stolengold

”I’ve been on Christmas break for two weeks and I’m all out of things to watch. I’ve burned through every season of The Office, Friday Night Lights, Family Guy, Arrested Development, The OC and even Extras. Arrrrrrrrr. What more is out there for a drunk pirate to watch?”

Always a great question. I don’t think there’s a soul on Earth anymore who is above seeping into a comfy bed or cushiony couch and absorbing a full season of a popular TV program they just bought on DVD, watching episodes back-to-back-to-back-to-back. Now that I have HBO On Demand, I watch all the episodes of whichever season of Entourage and Curb they are featuring, then wait til they refresh the next month and burn through that season. Damn Season One of Entourage was good.

The most recent show that I’ve chewed up and spat out is 30 Rock. I never realized the quality of this show until about a week ago, even though Kyle Woodward had recommended it, back when he was still in town. Come back to Omaha, Kyle! It snowed here yesterday.

After I watched the five 30 Rock episodes available on Hulu, Season 3: Episode 2 through 6, I went back to the beginning and stormed through Season 1 and 2 over a four-day weekend. What I enjoy about the show is that it takes a certain amount of Aqua Teen out-of-nowhere, sugar-rush humor and combines it with the raunchy, offensiveness of Family Guy. It has three legitimately funny characters – Tracy Morgan plays a crackhead TV and Movie celebrity, Tracy Jordan, the goodie-goodie nerdo Red-headed guy is pretty damn funny, and hundred-pound-balls hilarious Alec Baldwin is kicking ass and running the show. I love the running gags, like for some reason instead of using the word ‘brain’ they say “mind grapes,” and the recurring doctor named “Dr. Spaceman” who pronounces his name “Spah-chem-en.” The only weakness was a pretty much stupid love story arc between Tina Fey and the guy who played Joe Biden from SNL. Other than that – really, really funny.

Reader No. 4 Joel Fulton

“Hey Joel. I got these movie gift certificates to that new theatre Rave for Christmas. Movies are awesome, but I will probably never use these things because nobody goes to movies any more, unless its something like Batman or Rocky Horror. What should I do?”

Well, me, you are gonna have to find someone to go to the movies with. Did you hear Cinema Center is closing this week? Their last movies ever run this Thursday. That sucks! I think that might prove how lazy our culture has become. What is the deal though, seriously? Why would that place have to close? It seems like the economy really is screwing over just about everything.

You could do what you always do and sell the vouchers to your dad.

I somehow got away with watching a movie that has yet to reach theatres in Omaha. It was pretty sweet. I should tell you about it. – Well, the next and last mailbag writer didn’t really ask a question, so that movie can be my next topic.

Reader No. 5 Raleigh

“ We've got you in this fuckin' movie to exterminate all the lunatics all at once with a filtering system of God. We're the psycho-semantic police, you can't even see us. How in the fuck can you do anything about it?

We're pure intelligence, you’re not. You’re biological product of a cosmological universe. You're molecular matter, I constructed you, fuck you. I made you up, you didn't make me up, you got it backwards. You know who you are? You’re fuckin' semantic blockage, that's what made you up. You're a fuckin' programmer named Christine Gontara.

Hahaha!!! – I always wanted to quote Raliegh, a character from Sublime’s album Robbin’ The Hood. But what you probably didn’t recognize there was that Raleigh loves to make references to professional wrestling. He’s always like: “Do you smell what I’m cooking?” “Wooooo!!” “He telegraphed it!” “1! 2!.... Oh my God I totally thought that was 3!”

Old School WWE folks like Raleigh are everywhere and they are going Hulk-a-Mania about the new movie The Wrester.

I’m a huge WWE buff, so I hold the film to high standards, and I have to say it never let me down. For Poker fans, it was pretty badass to see James Bond perform well in high-stakes poker, even though, yeah, the part where they talk about the villian-that-cries-blooddrops’ “tell,” - like, “Woah, look. He is showing his tell, James is gonna win this hand. Oh crap!! Oh damn!! The guy tricked James!” - that part, that was pretty cheesy. But still, it was pretty cool because I like poker. I also really really like pro-wresting, and that is sort of like poker right? Kind of low-brow, sleezy, awesome, extreme-dude entertainment. And thankfully - when you’ve got the dude who directed Requiem For a Dream making a movie called The Wrestler, you get a realistic and awesome view at the life of a professional wrestler. It was able to avoid all cheesiness.

The movie has a total world-f*ck! moment, just like you remember from Requiem when they cut that junkies’s infected arm off – or like in Pi when that math guy power-drills a big, wormy vein in his head.

Dir. What’s-his-name is excellent at building psycho-tension and then, just when you can’t take it anymore, stabbing you in the face with it.

Yes, his actor dude Mickey Rourke, who plays the old and faded wrestling champion Randy "The Ram" Robinson, really helps Dir. What’s-his-name out. Solid choice of bringing in the guy who played “The Cook” in Spun and "Marv," the first, best and most badass main-character in Sin City.

Ram even displays a satisfactory finishing-move in his wrestling-movie arsenal. He climbs to the top-rope, pounds his elbow pads, then Rams the opponent with a face-dive. And, oh yeah - Marisa Tomei plays a stripper and you get to see her almost completely naked a couple of times. I will probably buy this movie later on and try to have a real “movie experience” with friends.

Posted by joel at January 10, 2009 12:18 PM
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