Miss Elaine Yuss

So, have you read 50 Shades of Grey? If you're like us here at BlatherBlahg, you've probably opted for more traditional ways of killing off brain cells, like huffing freon. (Harder to do on the West cost, by the way. Good weather equals less A/C units, damnation).

But, much like Twilight before it (from SMeyers writing womb so untimely ripped), 50 Shades can perhaps best be enjoyed by reading the reviews about it. I give you this giggle inducing rundown, with pictures!

Meanwhile, My Sweet Baboo has returned to the realm of respectable film. Check out the awesome trailers.

Creepy, non? But for an actual idea of what the film is about, see this:

I considered myself fairly well acquainted with the tenets and practices of one of the more popular cult/scams here on the West Coast. But supposedly this movie/trailer are just dripping with all kinds of shout outs and references. What I find really interesting is that from the trailers, there doesn't seem to be an solid villain and hero. I have high  hopes for this movie, and an even handed exploration of the personalities at work would be very interesting.

Speaking of movies, The Dark Knight Rises was an enjoyable flick. I felt it was the best performance from Bale out of the trilogy, and I was pleased with how it stood both as a single piece and as the end to the franchise. There will be people that cry "cop out" about certain aspects, but I think that having followed the characters through the bleakness and angst of all the arcs, this was a fitting resolution.

Don't read this next part, because WHAT HAS BEEN HEARD CANNOT BE UNHEARD, but there was a thing about Bane's voice. [Did anybody else feel like he sounded like a vaguely drunk, happy Sean Connery with pneumonia?] The first time he spoke it took me out of the movie almost completely. Though I can't be hating on Hardy, mainly because of THESE!

It's like the Mafia, Mr. Hardy. Once you go Trek, we never let you go.

 And I can't post this damn clip, which is pissing me. But I lurves me some Handsome Bob, and this whole movie in general.

http://youtu.be/VqrYAcljRZo?hd=1


And for the record, comparing Burton Batman and Nolan Batman is like comparing apples and unicorns. You may have your favorite, but they are such different animals like to declare one "superior" is ridiculous. You might at well say that bears are better than sharks. Tim Burton wasn't trying to make a hyper realistic version of Gotham. Nor was Chris Nolan particularly interested in catering to the comic book roots. Fanboys of the world, take a breather and change your diapers.

Argh...headache returning. Always a good sign to exit the blog world. Hasta la vista, babbies.

And Just Like That, A Ray of Sunshine

My brother is out of surgery and doesn't have cancer.

If you just felt a breeze, it was the mighty sigh that escaped me.

Frustration, Whining, & Pissiness

This post should be avoided by plants, animals, babies, and all other living things.

The fuckers stole my q-tips. Seriously.

Somebody who hasn't contacted me about any of this sent around some kind of email discussing my plight. And they sent it to my mother. Which is Not Cool, as I was purposely not telling my mother or certain family members because they are in the middle of some medical/surgical drama as we speak.

My mom did not need that extra stress at this time. And I didn't need the extra stress of trying to relieve her of that stress while what we should really be focusing on is my brother who's in surgery today.

My car is in the shop because the shitty thieves have my spare key and can come over and take it anytime they want. Don't know when the shop will get around to it, but the initial estimate for changing the locks/ignition/all the crap required to make my car secure again starts at $1500.

A couple of fun things always happen when disaster strikes.

One is repeating the same story over and over again. Which isn't so bad, compared to dealing with the same know it all Monday morning quarterbacking that goes on. No, I don't have renter's insurance. Now that we've established that, do you think you can refrain from repeating 10 times how much I should have it and how you or your friend had it and what a good idea it is blah blah blah?*

No, I didn't keep all the receipts from all my purchases for the last 15 years. Let's move on, shall we?*

Can we please spend a little less time reminiscing about your near brush with robbery, or the time you sort of got ripped off, or the thing that happened to someone you know but never happened to you?*

No, I didn't take extra security measures with my home desktop computer. Living alone and having sole access to the cumbersome 10 lb tower, I really didn't think in term of other people having access to it. Do I really have to justify that?*

Hi Banking/Credit/Institution representative. Could you try to act less incredulous that I kept personal information in my house and on my computer? I realize it's a big pain for you to do your job when I call for assistance, but maintaining a modicum of professional demeanor doesn't seem like asking for too much.*

But if you really want to piss me off, let's do two things: focus repeatedly on YOUR reaction and how YOU feel and all the things I should have done to make YOU better able to police my home. That's nice. Tell me again about how you noticed the tarp obscuring my broken window, but you aren't really responsible for not doing anything because I failed to inform you I was going out of town.*

Because, yeah, informing everyone you know that you are going out of town isn't a safety hazard. It's not like this may have happened SPECIFICALLY because somebody knew I was out of town.

And please, by all means, continue giving fucking pointless advice like "Well, now you know never to leave your spare keys at home."*

Actually, no. I purposely began leaving non-essential keys at home after I almost lost my keys on a cross country trip. My logic said: surely it is better to have them at home, and perhaps only have to pay to open my front door, then to lose my keys in some airport somewhere and never see them again.

So, see how there really isn't a best solution? See how sometimes fucked up shit just happens, and your bullshit attempts at drawing conclusions and producing platitudes just reflects your own reactive and limited imagination? In other words, STFU.*

*It's not that any of these things are in and of themselves infuriating. What makes it difficult is the sick human compulsion to subconciously compare, gloat, and congratulate yourself while doing all this. There's this underlying sense "Phew, better you than me!"--which is understandable. Not admirable, but understandable.

What's not understandable is that the sense of relief is usually accompanied by a self congratulatory air based on the false premise that "This didn't happen to me, because I'm Smart. Let me show you how smart by giving you pointless advice on closing the barn door, harping on my belief systems, etc."

No, assmunch. This didn't happen to you because you are fortunate. Chance has smiled on you. A series of events led you to be in a different place and time. The random wheel of fate spun, and you weren't the stuckee. So quit fucking patting yourself on the back while standing in the ruins of my living room and my life.

This post brought to you by the letter Bile.

ETA: this post does not address all the kind offers and shows of support I have received. I am thankful and fortunate to have the friends and family that I do. I'm just having a little trouble accessing my gratitude banks at the moment.

Ain't That Some Shit

I just really don't know anymore.

Arrived back from my trip today to discover my house had been burgled.(There's a word you don't get to use everyday. Thank god.)

They took everything they could fit through the window. My old computer. My new tv. All the clothes in the closet, but left the hangers. My video camera. My DVDs. The pair of shoes I was going to wear to Tink's wedding.

The fuckers even stole the cheapo quilt right off my futon.

Most impressively of all, they stole the shower head. That's right--the fucking shower head. I can't even bathe.

They searched every nook and cranny of this tiny apartment. They took their time. And they took what's mine.

Even if I was employed, I couldn't hope to replace what was stolen. It would take something like 5 years of gainful employment to be able to afford it. Many of those items were gifts or hand me downs--things I could never afford on my own.

And then there's the stuff that can't be replaced---like the five years worth of pictures stored on my computer. Or the jewelry from my great grandmother--not valuable but very sentimental. Like those two necklaces from old beaus.

The burglar, while violating my space, also critiqued my taste, in a manner of speaking. He left the old VCR, the old tv, and my crappy little alarm clock.

He also left two DVDs: The Pretender (a horrible Christian "lesson" film someone gave me as a joke) and A Man For All Seasons. I suppose it's not very ironic that a burglar doesn't prefer moral fare.

Tomorrow I get to continue the inevitable cleanup associated with this type of mess. I have to get the window fixed, locks changed, etc. The police will be by at some point to dust for prints. I have to get a new key doohickey for my car, since the thief now has my spare.

I have to say this feels very specific, very targeted. For them to break into my place and not the unit next to me, which has been empty (though furnished) for over 6 months now. And to search the place so thoroughly. It just doesn't feel random. But where does that leave me? The police didn't even bother talking to all my neighbors.

I don't mean to sound whiny, but this really doesn't seem fair. I'm not a rich person--the things I had (just had to retype that from have) are the result of years of collecting and gift receipt. When I do spend my money, I spend it carefully. My winter peacoat and alpaca cloak were one time purchases. My MBT shoes were found on sale (though still expensive).

I may not be a very good person, but I've never been a thief. Why do people think it's okay to take from others? I've never understood it.

While in Tahoe I had a little bit of luck at the casino. I ended up taking home a little over $100. I guess some part of me should have figured out that the normal universal principles would be in effect, and that for that small bit of luck I would be visited by a geometrically inverse portion of bad luck. I just can't seem to catch a break.

And if it's not luck, but some kind of karma, I sure do wish somebody would enlighten as to what it is I'm doing that so damn wrong that it deserves the track record of this past year.

Travel, Ho!

I really wasn't sure how to punctuate that title. Eats, shoots, and leaves--indeed.

Because I ain't got no job and ain't got shit to do, I will be driving up to visit with some friends in Tahoe. I hear it's a magical, wonderful place.

Geosynchronous Positioning Systems* have really altered how I travel by car. It takes a lot of the knee jerk OCD out of navigating for me. I've only looked up directions to my destination twice now. I haven't felt compelled to write them out longhand or make a crib sheet. I feel like an almost normal person--fairly content in the knowledge that I will manage to get near my destination, at least close enough to figure it out. (*I might be making this up, but it sounds good and I don't feel like looking it up right now).

Not a big deal for some, but loads less stress for me. GPS--it may not get you exactly there, but you'll be in spitting distance. And it's invaluable for navigating the roads as they cut through towns. Because we all know that road signs don't always let you know that the interstate you want to stay on requires you to be in the right lane RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW CUT ACROSS TEN LANES OF HOUSTON TRAFFIC RIGHT NOW.

So Mick** and I are off sometime in the next few days. It will be fun to hear him mangle the Spanish pronunciations of all new places. Australian GPS voice programs don't intuit the subtleties of Spanish syllable emphasis very well. Example: Sepulveda. Mick says SEH-puhl-VEE-dah. Good times. (**Yes, I named my GPS. Why not? He talks to me more than most people.)

Quick Movie Reviews!

Magic Mike. Oh Soderbergh, you cheeky bastard. Well done and with a surprising amount of heart and pathos. Most stunning is Charming Potato being, well, actually charming. McConnaughy is wonderfully oily (literally and figuratively) and the whole things is beautifully shot.To quote some guy on Facebook, "If you're worried that watching this movie will make you gay, too late. You're already gay."

Puncture. Based on a true story about a pair of Texas lawyers uncovering health supply fraud in hospitals. Focuses on the invention and subsequent suppression of a type of safety needle. Chris Evans plays the hard drugging, hard living lead attorney. It's a good story, with only a few glaring Hollywood intrusions into the narrative. (The car following Evans for the implied conspiracy, Evans being ridiculously ripped despite being strung out, etc). I find Chris Evans surprisingly charming as an actor and person, and believe he has more in him than action hero status. He delivers here, though it's fair to note that his character still exhibits some of the loose, friendly frat boy vibe that Evans does so well. But it works for the character and is, arguably, in character.

In fact, Evans does such a good job that it makes one slip up particularly jarring. It's when Evans confronts the opposing attorney during a late night meeting. They verbally spar, and Evans delivers an exit line. The tone of the whole scene is just off, and feels like something from an action movie instead of an indie semi-biopic. I wonder if it was a re-shoot that Evans had to come back for during the filming of Cap A or Avengers. It's that different from the rest of the film.

The other WTF came from the location. Ostensibly, they did shoot in Houston. The evidence is there in the exteriors, the scenery, the outdoor long shots. But it's totally not believable because everyone is running around in suits and NO ONE IS SWEATING. This is absolutely impossible and flies in face of All That Is Known in the universe. If the sun is out and you happen to be standing under it, you will sweat. Hell, the humidity in the air will just condense on your face. You will be dewed, like the tender blades of grass in the misty morning. What I'm saying is IT'S HOT AND STICKY AND THERE'S NO ESCAPING IT.

Silly, but it really took me out of the movie. I'm sure non-Houston natives won't have that problem.

Sex and Death 101. Starring the crippingly handsome Simon Baker. This is a farcical romp through a year in the life of an engaged man who receives some mysterious information about his love life--past and future. It's breezy and fun, with enough silliness to keep the plot zipping along. Filled with solid actors you will recognize on sight, if not by name. I really enjoyed the fourth wall asides, the screwball reactions, and the general airiness of it all.

Did I mention that Simon Baker is stunning? I'm so hung up on The Mentalist these days. This was a lovely change from the Patrick Jane persona. However, be warned: Baker does smile in this movie and that smile is still blinding. He grins and the sun comes up, birds sing, cats and dogs lay aside their arms and sing kumbaya. Powerful weapon.

In other news, Stephen Hawking lost a bet. I'm not even going to pretend that I know enough about particle physics to understand what this means, but it's a pretty big deal. Seems like the Hadron Collider was built*** to try and verify the existence of the Higgs boson. It exists only for a brief moment, and is the only particle without movement/rotation(?). Acts as a facilitator for the existence of other particles. (***AND to create the black hole/spacetime rift that will destroy Earth in accordance with the Mayan prophecies of doom).

Coming soon: The Mentalist and my Top Five Freebies list, with *extensive* runner up list.