**What about it? Done shopping for fireworks?
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Horror Movie Review #36: Population 436
POPULATION 436
Directed By: Michelle Maxwell MacLaren (Kyle XY, Law and Order SVU)
Year Released: 2006
Running Time: 92 mins
Language: English
Horror Type: Crazytown. Lavet.
Sex? - Two to three minutes of the most passe sex scenes out there.
Gore? - Not even.
Rockwell Falls is this backwards, isolated town with a population constant of 436. Which is the same count as it was in the 1860s when they're at their most prosperous. They elected to maintain that constant through the years at all costs necessary, even if they had to resort to the occasional lobotomy and trepanation. It's this singularly super-weird town where everybody knows your name and bids you good day. Every day. And the kids are not as much as educated than they are indoctrinated with the phrases solidarity and steadfastness, and that the population will never stray away from that constant.
They have this reset button just in case the inevitable number 437 happens. They hold this Festival whenever somebody new ups the population constant. The festival host isn't much of a host as she is an equalizer. She hangs herself on the day of the festival to return the constant to 436. And then they celebrate the normalcy with a happy banquet that's punctuated with dancing and pie.
Steve Kady's this guy from the Census Bureau, an average kind of feller who puts two and two together and determines Rockwell Falls to be decidedly a townful of nuts.
I give it a 3/5.
Directed By: Michelle Maxwell MacLaren (Kyle XY, Law and Order SVU)
Year Released: 2006
Running Time: 92 mins
Language: English
Horror Type: Crazytown. Lavet.
Sex? - Two to three minutes of the most passe sex scenes out there.
Gore? - Not even.
Rockwell Falls is this backwards, isolated town with a population constant of 436. Which is the same count as it was in the 1860s when they're at their most prosperous. They elected to maintain that constant through the years at all costs necessary, even if they had to resort to the occasional lobotomy and trepanation. It's this singularly super-weird town where everybody knows your name and bids you good day. Every day. And the kids are not as much as educated than they are indoctrinated with the phrases solidarity and steadfastness, and that the population will never stray away from that constant.
They have this reset button just in case the inevitable number 437 happens. They hold this Festival whenever somebody new ups the population constant. The festival host isn't much of a host as she is an equalizer. She hangs herself on the day of the festival to return the constant to 436. And then they celebrate the normalcy with a happy banquet that's punctuated with dancing and pie.
Steve Kady's this guy from the Census Bureau, an average kind of feller who puts two and two together and determines Rockwell Falls to be decidedly a townful of nuts.
I give it a 3/5.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
My Gaydar Kicks Your Gaydar's Ass. And It Has WiFi.
**This isn't about taking care of your gaydar, but feel free to write about it in your own time. Oh, my friend doesn't look nowhere near like the picture I used.
I have this friend I call Horsefrog, and he just recently came out of the closet earlier this year. So we were having an argument in the cab, this newly out friend of mine, and we were trying to determine this other guy's sexual orientation. I was resolute, "Hindi bakla yun noh! (No, he's not gay) ." Horsefrog, on the other hand, was all too keen on the contradiction, "Hindi, bakla talaga yun! (Yes, he's gay!)"
I'm not having none of this, and so I was like:
"Paano mo naman nasabing hindi siya bakla, eh kung ikaw nga last year hindi mo alam na bakla ka? (How can you tell he's not gay, when you didn't know you were gay this time last year?)"
And that is how Horsefrog exploded in a mouthful of expletives.
Picture taken from The Work of Josh Culberson.
I have this friend I call Horsefrog, and he just recently came out of the closet earlier this year. So we were having an argument in the cab, this newly out friend of mine, and we were trying to determine this other guy's sexual orientation. I was resolute, "Hindi bakla yun noh! (No, he's not gay) ." Horsefrog, on the other hand, was all too keen on the contradiction, "Hindi, bakla talaga yun! (Yes, he's gay!)"
I'm not having none of this, and so I was like:
"Paano mo naman nasabing hindi siya bakla, eh kung ikaw nga last year hindi mo alam na bakla ka? (How can you tell he's not gay, when you didn't know you were gay this time last year?)"
And that is how Horsefrog exploded in a mouthful of expletives.
Picture taken from The Work of Josh Culberson.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Suck on This! (A Love Story)
**Ahh, love is in the air!
It was a scene taken out of a Danielle Steele bestseller: two lovers locked in a passionate embrace, their tears washed away by a gentle downpour of rain. Time stops as their wet bodies warp tighter, his lips not letting go of his ladyboy lover as they are completely lost to the busy pedestrian hustle surrounding them. He is totally mindless of the occasionally mockery of outraged passers by. He will be proposing to him later this week.
Or maybe he already did, on account of I schedule my posts way ahead of time.
I'd like to congratulate my friend Bita (Ramil on his passport) for having one thing that the rest of us (straight or otherwise) can only dream of and write poems about and get totally frustrated over on the whole in this lifetime: a marriage proposal from the love of his life. So Geoff, I don't know you much, but please keep him happy, will you? And thanks for proving to us that love is blind to the false eyelashes, heavy concealer and false boobs.
It was a scene taken out of a Danielle Steele bestseller: two lovers locked in a passionate embrace, their tears washed away by a gentle downpour of rain. Time stops as their wet bodies warp tighter, his lips not letting go of his ladyboy lover as they are completely lost to the busy pedestrian hustle surrounding them. He is totally mindless of the occasionally mockery of outraged passers by. He will be proposing to him later this week.
Or maybe he already did, on account of I schedule my posts way ahead of time.
I'd like to congratulate my friend Bita (Ramil on his passport) for having one thing that the rest of us (straight or otherwise) can only dream of and write poems about and get totally frustrated over on the whole in this lifetime: a marriage proposal from the love of his life. So Geoff, I don't know you much, but please keep him happy, will you? And thanks for proving to us that love is blind to the false eyelashes, heavy concealer and false boobs.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Horror Movie Review #35: Feed
**I will be including reels beginning with this one. Hope you guys like it.
FEED
Directed By: Brett Leonard (The Lawnmower Man)
Year Released: 2006
Running Time: 101 minutes
Language: English
Horror Type: Perversions.
Sex? - Only for Chubby Chasers.
Gore? - Not for Chubby Chasers.
The first good scene, which is within five minutes of the opening credits, shows this moderately good looking hunk with several bags of fast food in hand. He then strips naked, cute-butt naked, and then approaches this very very large woman that's naked in bed, her weight so overpowering that she cannot help herself up. He asks her to "say it, say it," to which she obliges with the words "feed me."
Feed is about this guy who force feeds his women to death. The point behind all this feeding is to grow their women to insane weights until they can no longer help themselves even for the simplest tasks. It consummates into this absolute dependency wherein the giver (the person doing the feeding) gains total control over the feeder (the person doing the eating), and it mutates to such helpless extents wherein the feeder will not survive without the giver. It's the ultimate in submissive behavior.
Deidre, the feeder in this movie, grows to a morbidly obese weight of 602lbs, and then yells "I did it!" She precedes the late feeder Lucy, who died at 670lbs., under the supervision of the same giver. It gets better though. What seems like a very harmless however disgusting (I say it like I mean it, I'm size two) fetish takes on very perverted dimensions. He broadcasts his fat women on the internet, and he takes bets on when his feeders will die.
I give it a 4/5.
FEED
Directed By: Brett Leonard (The Lawnmower Man)
Year Released: 2006
Running Time: 101 minutes
Language: English
Horror Type: Perversions.
Sex? - Only for Chubby Chasers.
Gore? - Not for Chubby Chasers.
The first good scene, which is within five minutes of the opening credits, shows this moderately good looking hunk with several bags of fast food in hand. He then strips naked, cute-butt naked, and then approaches this very very large woman that's naked in bed, her weight so overpowering that she cannot help herself up. He asks her to "say it, say it," to which she obliges with the words "feed me."
Feed is about this guy who force feeds his women to death. The point behind all this feeding is to grow their women to insane weights until they can no longer help themselves even for the simplest tasks. It consummates into this absolute dependency wherein the giver (the person doing the feeding) gains total control over the feeder (the person doing the eating), and it mutates to such helpless extents wherein the feeder will not survive without the giver. It's the ultimate in submissive behavior.
Deidre, the feeder in this movie, grows to a morbidly obese weight of 602lbs, and then yells "I did it!" She precedes the late feeder Lucy, who died at 670lbs., under the supervision of the same giver. It gets better though. What seems like a very harmless however disgusting (I say it like I mean it, I'm size two) fetish takes on very perverted dimensions. He broadcasts his fat women on the internet, and he takes bets on when his feeders will die.
I give it a 4/5.
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Why You Should Read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
**This is how I won me a book in Jessica Zafra's blog. She held this contest one time, and she asked her readers to recommend a book. I posted a comment, this comment, and I won me a book in consequence. Never won me a book before, sure beats a punch in the face. I so rock. By the way,I used Momelia for my pen name. To give it that mostly gay touch.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
(Douglas Adams, 1979)
The Earth gets demolished to make way for a hyperspatial bypass. A highway of sorts, if you must. An Earthman, Arthur Dent, survives with the help of a long time friend, Ford Prefect, who turns out to be an alien with a very helpful knack for hitching rides in spaceships.
1. It's divided into very brief chapters for easy reading. There's something new to imagine every five to ten pages or so to keep you from getting bored.
2. The author, Doug Adams, employs this clever wordplay that brings the inter-galactic hitchhiking to life and tries to make you grin in the process. There's the Infinite Improbability Drive (which fuels the fantastic starship Heart of Gold run), the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster (the alcoholic drink of choice), and the Galactic Institute's Prize for Extreme Cleverness (verbatim).
3. You will love Marvin the Paranoid Android. He's this charming little robot with the brain the size of a planet, and he's always depressed. I like him so much, I got me some quotes:
Do you want me to sit in the corner and rust, or just fall apart where I'm standing?
Would you like me to go and stick my head in a bucket of water?
Why stop now just when I'm hating it? Life, loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it.
4. If you should happen to travel the galaxy and back, then bring a towel. I know it doesn't make sense, but it perfectly complements the next item.
5. This book provides The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. And that answer is 42. Yes, as in what's six times seven. Unhinged, isn't it? But it gets better.
6. See, the author's crazy. Nope, not the institutionalized kind of crazy (that's de Maupassant, love him), but he's the laugh out loud kind of crazy that gets people invited to parties. His book's a riot in consequence. And it's divided into very brief chapters for easy reading.
7. It's got a movie adaptation. Which meant it had a profitable readership. Which meant it was good enough to buy. Still is, but in between the movie ticket and a paperback copy, I'd go with the book. On account of the movie sucked a nut.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
(Douglas Adams, 1979)
The Earth gets demolished to make way for a hyperspatial bypass. A highway of sorts, if you must. An Earthman, Arthur Dent, survives with the help of a long time friend, Ford Prefect, who turns out to be an alien with a very helpful knack for hitching rides in spaceships.
1. It's divided into very brief chapters for easy reading. There's something new to imagine every five to ten pages or so to keep you from getting bored.
2. The author, Doug Adams, employs this clever wordplay that brings the inter-galactic hitchhiking to life and tries to make you grin in the process. There's the Infinite Improbability Drive (which fuels the fantastic starship Heart of Gold run), the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster (the alcoholic drink of choice), and the Galactic Institute's Prize for Extreme Cleverness (verbatim).
3. You will love Marvin the Paranoid Android. He's this charming little robot with the brain the size of a planet, and he's always depressed. I like him so much, I got me some quotes:
Do you want me to sit in the corner and rust, or just fall apart where I'm standing?
Would you like me to go and stick my head in a bucket of water?
Why stop now just when I'm hating it? Life, loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it.
4. If you should happen to travel the galaxy and back, then bring a towel. I know it doesn't make sense, but it perfectly complements the next item.
5. This book provides The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. And that answer is 42. Yes, as in what's six times seven. Unhinged, isn't it? But it gets better.
6. See, the author's crazy. Nope, not the institutionalized kind of crazy (that's de Maupassant, love him), but he's the laugh out loud kind of crazy that gets people invited to parties. His book's a riot in consequence. And it's divided into very brief chapters for easy reading.
7. It's got a movie adaptation. Which meant it had a profitable readership. Which meant it was good enough to buy. Still is, but in between the movie ticket and a paperback copy, I'd go with the book. On account of the movie sucked a nut.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
I Wish They Had Spontaneous AIDS
**It's a sad, sad day. Wish goes out to people responsible, that and a big bad Fuku.
What happened last November 23 was most unspeakable. Fifty seven people, mostly media people, were massacred in what can be the worst case of election-related violence in this here hole-in-the-wall third world. Fifty seven! Seriously, would anyone have enough energy yet left to imagine such an atrocity? I am very generous with my adjectives and adverbs and what have you, but I can't just put words together to paint my disgust.
I know its an unparalleled atrocity, at least here in this hole that receives my taxes, and my condolences reach out to everybody who lost a limb in this aftermath. That's a figure of speech, the limbs, because I believe that losing a loved one is losing a limb. But what gets me the most is how the media people fared, them courageous few who died in the name of honest journalism. What a valiant loss. We can use more people like them; why weren't there any gossip columnists in that convoy? We could do with maybe three of their kind, three total. At most.
I have this feeling that in spite of its massively talented pool of writers, Philippine Journalism has never had such an unprecedented loss for words. That wasn't meant to be offensive. I mean, who wouldn't be silenced in the face of such inhuman hell raising?
What happened last November 23 was most unspeakable. Fifty seven people, mostly media people, were massacred in what can be the worst case of election-related violence in this here hole-in-the-wall third world. Fifty seven! Seriously, would anyone have enough energy yet left to imagine such an atrocity? I am very generous with my adjectives and adverbs and what have you, but I can't just put words together to paint my disgust.
I know its an unparalleled atrocity, at least here in this hole that receives my taxes, and my condolences reach out to everybody who lost a limb in this aftermath. That's a figure of speech, the limbs, because I believe that losing a loved one is losing a limb. But what gets me the most is how the media people fared, them courageous few who died in the name of honest journalism. What a valiant loss. We can use more people like them; why weren't there any gossip columnists in that convoy? We could do with maybe three of their kind, three total. At most.
I have this feeling that in spite of its massively talented pool of writers, Philippine Journalism has never had such an unprecedented loss for words. That wasn't meant to be offensive. I mean, who wouldn't be silenced in the face of such inhuman hell raising?
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