michele

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feb 03 buffy episodes

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Categories: Movie Reviews

fyi for anyone who cares (me. erica. nuala. kristen. jolie.)

New Buffy episodes all February long!

Tuesday, February 4, 8PM ET/PT:

“The Killer in Me”

When Willow starts to give in to romantic feelings for Kennedy, (eeeee!) her guilty conscience causes her to turn into Warren, Tara’s killer. (oooo….) Also, the gang gets clues that lead them to believe Giles may be The First, (see! i bet he did get killed!) and Buffy helps Spike with what seems to be his malfunctioning chip, ultimately leaving Buffy with a shocking choice.

Tuesday, February 11, 8PM ET/PT:

“First Date”

Buffy goes on a date with Principal Wood, (ahhhh!!! dating the black man! who called it?!) while Xander goes on date with an enigmatic woman. Multi-Grammy nominee Ashanti guest stars.

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teen queens = scream!

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perhaps i should explain my mary kate and ashley olsen fascination a little. (no you shouldn’t! just back away from the subject! this idea is a bad idea and bad ideas lead to bad things! ahhh! bad bad bad!)

i don’t really know why it came about that i even ordered ‘so little time’ vol 1. from netflix. i think i was vaguely interested. and i think i was sparked on by just the huge conglomeration those two little girls have created. and i said to myself, “self, see what it’s all about. watch a little mk/a o. don’t live in the horrific darkness of ignorance.” little did i know at the time how much darker my life would become after seeing them act. plus the whole shitty dialogue thing. and the enormously stereotypical latin american maid-man. but oh doods. the clothes and the hair and the silly stupidity soooo almost made up for it. certainly those shallow 15 year olds convinced me to sit in front of the television for 5 whole epsisodes until 3 in the morning. (marina only made it thru 2. yes i forced the visiting marina to watch some of it with me. i think she was permanently scarred for life.)

a couple of weeks later i was feeling kind of nostalgic about the whole experience. and so i RENTED ANOTHER ONE. only this one was a feature length movie and they are pitifully younger and thus much less interesting to watch. plus it had the little moments of fading in and out where television commercials were originally. that is low, my friends. i mean. you know you’re pathetic when you’re watching made for tv movies with former cast members of full house starring as soccer athletes in a twin-switcheroo plot.

maybe i need an intervention. i don’t know. all i know is that i’m getting a third one from netflix. and i think it’s become an addiction.

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believe me when i say that i am well aware that they are awful. but…just look at them… the looking at them part is so much fun….

i am sick and wrong. just so we’re all clear. sick and wrong.

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about schmidt

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Categories: Movie Reviews

honestly. i would never call myself a fan of the mid-west expose on lower middle class america. in, let me stress it again, the MID-WEST. doldrums are boring. motor homes are passe. i think you get my point. however, other than the typically slow pace and close revelations of what it means to be retired, middle class, white american male, the movie has some stunning good points.

1) kathy bates. naked. in a hot tub. i am giving that secret away right here and now. you have not LIVED till you see an old, unattractive, sagging boobs actress bare it all for the camera. right there in front of you. larger than life. and with the potential of water buoyancy. i was aghast. but in a good way. a way that screamed internally, “right on, sista!” fight back against the anemic naked models. fuck ’em anyway.

2) ndugu. the first letter-sheer brilliance. the second letter-still good. the third letter-wearing a trifle thin. the fourth letter-shit, give it a rest already, willya? see, jack nicholson’s character adopts this african boy named ndugu, who draws him pictures and benefits from the $22 a month or whatever it is. and in return schmidt writes him these horrific letters detailing all his petty and personal miseries. hates his wife. hates his daughter’s fiancee. loves his daughter. still a part of his job (lie). his wife died. he’s going to stop the wedding. he “found” himself. and so on. and then because of this letter he gets from the sister of mercy on behalf of ndugu, his life suddenly acquires meaning. even though all along he has been nothing more than a poor sap who can’t even make a fucking sandwich for himself or do his laundry. and who tried to ruin his daughter’s only happiness. and never appreciated his wife. right. but $22/month makes his life have meaning because SOMEONE is going to remember him when he dies. and that someone is an african kid with lice and plentiful diseases on the other side of the globe who probably doesn’t even read the letters or know anything about it. riiiiiiight. perhaps my common sense and bitter cynicism is cutting a little too deeply into the awe-inspiring life changing moment they were trying to convey. but no no i think really they were trying to be ironic themselves but failed miserably.

3) the high point of this movie is in the details. little things. like how schmidt always sleeps with one leg outside the covers, trapping them down on top of the other leg. and how his coat sleeves were always too big for him, making him look continually awkward and childish in his own clothing. the speech patterns of dermot mulroney as the daughter’s fiancee. and his ponytail. oh lordy. plus schmidt’s walk. feet pointed outwards and slightly to the side. verra verra slowly. with the equally too big pants.

i don’t think i really recommend this movie. unless, like jason who i saw it with, you LIKE mid-west irony-dramas. in which case–wholewhearted approval of you seeing this movie is what i’ve got. but if you’re more like me…eh….see ummm…maybe some mary kate and ashley olsen action. shut up! it’s a sickness!

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middle school

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Categories: General

i was like, “you could just go to bed, michele. they don’t really need middle school pictures right this second.” but then i decided it wouldn’t do to deny my avid fans, right? the bad thing about these pictures is that i look awful in each of them. the good thing about these pictures, well the b&w ones anyway is the fun game you get to play of figuring out how many of those little munchkins YOU KNOW. the very least amount of people any of you should know is 4. i think. but maybe 6. you let me know. finally all those years working on the yearbook staff and being able to steal fun extra-curricular group photos like these pays off.

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hoi paloi

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Categories: General

it’s amazing, frankly amazing, how quickly i can become fascinated by something.

yesterday in the car jacob was telling kristen and i about how he and dianna are looking for new room-mates for the apartment they are hoping to move into. and he was talking about the croatian dance instructor and the libyan bible thumper and the atlantean sheep-herder, and then he was like,

“and there’s this guy, goes by the name of hoi. he’s from austrialia.”

“oooo austrailia,” went kristen and i.

“well…that is he was just going to school there, but he was born in hong kong.”

kristen turns to me at this point, “it’s like your DREAM. asian AND austrialian cock.”

at which i, of course, laughed nervously.

but honestly speaking…i mean she’s kind of right.

so anyway, we are trying to convince jacob that he NEEDS to live with this hoi paloi fellow. but we are suspicious that he is not really listening to us seriously enough.

i wonder what it is about me that makes me so quick to latch onto people’s names and make up whole stories about them and fantasy type things. ok actually i know what is about me: overactive imagination, boredom, and plain loneliness. it accounts for the bit before college with the fascination of sam and then the strange dwarf karl (hoffman) fetish of sophomore – senior years.

that’s a dare right there. i wonder how long it will take SDK all the way to randomly be searching his own name and find this page. i mean adam f. found it. adam f. whose last name can’t be revealed for random (in)security reasons. (go all the way down to the bottom to see the comments from adam and this next one.) the guy looking for porn in middle european countries found me. and the sugar shoe fanatics who have made me the highest search result for ss’s, over and above the ss broken webpage found me most of all.

hmm i’m not sure i have the guts to let SDK find me. although…i mean…what the fuck does it matter now i guess? welll….there’s my reputation (what reputation?) and my self-respect (what? me?) and uh….my desire for people not to know that 1) i was stalking them and 2) the things i did while stalking them. which is not to say that everyone else i know doesn’t already know. since i wrote about it before while very carefully leaving out the last name. i’ve got to say i’m torn on this one. i think i will let it stand for like an hour and then panic and take it down.

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patrick nagel

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Categories: General

yesterday i went to this little sandwich place called raps off shattuck for lunch. and on the walls were patrick nagel prints. like 3 of them.

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but here you get like 11 of them or something. (click for more).

i was immediately transported back to the day that i found that huge nagel poster, (in a fucking frame no less) in the proo’ * house sophomore year. there was this weird closet by the stairs wherein there was a second hidden closet and me being inquisitve was trying to clean the place out from the stupid subletters and the renters from the year before. and i found this poster. and i was so thrilled. i don’t know what the appeal was/is. i think it was the gigantic size and the tackiness and the white white skin. (cough racist cough). so i showed it to everybody and was like, “yeah! poster! this is awesome!” and everyone was horrified and concerned about why they agreed to live with me and internally debating how they could possibly circumvent me mounting this poster on the wall. ** i think there was a mass action taken. because i have no idea what happened to that poster but it disappeared and i never got to put it up. i was distraught, believe you me. but now that i know where the crazy lady who makes the tasty sandwiches is, i can go look at her obsessively bad patrick nagel taste whenever i like or whenever i’m hungry. and you know what? that is a good, good thing.

*proo’ does in fact, contrary to popular gene belief, spell his name with two o’s and an apostrophe. why the ‘ i don’t know. however it appears to be an integral part of the name. along with the necessary accessories that make up the proo’ himself: the alligator shoes, the light rock music, the solid, solid round belly, the half open button down shirt, the large gold chain, the huge tinted sunglasses, the elderly single cruises, and the fishing off the coast of florida. all things that i gleaned during my one year long association with the man. oh and the fighter pilot early years of the man. oh yes. jason and i heard all about that one day, alone in the house, trapped and scared with our illegal kittens upstairs bound to start making noise any minute.

** which is funny that THIS (notice the poster behind us and who’s in it), got to go on the wall but a little patrick nagel somethin’ somethin’, did not. base and unfair people.

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