Ok so my boyfriend was watching me write the last post and we started talking about the previous list - while we're watching Queen at Wembley (fucking epic concert, damn it!) - and bingo, when we saw Fred come in the stage, it dawned on us: while the greatest bands come from the UK... not all frontmen do. Bingo, another post. Sorry, I couldn't leave it for later...
Let the arguments begin.
Freddie Mercury is the greatest frontman of all time. Period. No, I don't want to hear any arguments that try to take this man down. He is and will always be the greatest. He controlled the audience like no other. He was larger than life. He rocked your balls out. All hail Freddie.
Now... so first place is his. But... what about the other four greatest frontman of all time? Who would I choose? It took 15 minutes. I had them all in my head. Join in the fun and write down yours. Here are mine:
1) Freddie Mercury. You bow down everytime you hear his name, dammit!
2) Mick Jagger. This man is the original Energizer Bunny.
3) Bono. He sings and saves the world. Try to Trump that one.
4) Jim Morrison. I honestly think that if Sex had a smell, it would smell like Jim.
5) David Lee Roth. Second in command of being larger than life. Mid-air splits? Yes.
So those are mine. You are totally entitled to your list, but if Mercury isn't on your list, there might be help for you. Call your doctor today.
Ok let's not beat around the bush. The best bands of all time, of all the days, years, centuries that man has walked the earth have come from one place only. The United Kingdom. Period. Long live the Queen, hail mary, whatever. The UK has it, and it has it good.
Not only they have produced the best bands of all time, they still are turning them out as we speak. Muse? Coldplay? OOh yes. The british know how to rock. Me love them long time.
Do the math. Don't believe me? Let me give you five amazing reasons.
1) The Beatles.
2) The Who.
3) Pink Floyd
4) Queen.
5) Led Zeppelin.
Jesus... This is way too hard. People we have to mention because if not someone will come and shoot us are: Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, The Rolling Stones, The Clash, The Kinks, Radiohead... Lord have mercy, this post will never end. I have to stop here.
Feel free to revise this list as you wish. And if you can write back with an USA argument... go right ahead, I double dog dare you. If you can up this list with american bands - NOT ARTISTS, the game is on.
Sometimes people do stuff that makes me go... really? Is this totally necessary? Let's explore the wonderful world of a little documentary I saw while sick as a dog this week: No Impact Man. (Oh yes, I almost died, dammit. I saw the light. Nothing there, but that is another post)
What seemed like a genius idea for some strange reason just felt a little flat for me. The basics: some dude in Manhattan decides to go completely off the grid. His no impact zone means:
1) No electricity. No heat. No appliances of any kind.
2) No food that isn't organic and local (in this case, only New York food.)
3) No coffee. (WTF?)
4) No makeup, creams or even bought shampoo for the wife. (WHAT?)
5) No electronic/gas transportation.
6) No elevators.
7) No meat, no fish (IS THIS GUY NUTS?).
8) Watch the trailer to see the whole list. It's about as fucked up as you can imagine.
Oh and by the way, let me tell you that this man decided to include his wife and his amazingly cute little girl in this experiment.
Ok so what happened for me? I ended up being not inspired that much. I mean... Yes, I know mankind sucks and has been fucking the environment for quite a while now, but this is taking it to eleven. It may be a little bit drastic, just to prove a point, you know?
Suddenly the "coverage of the coverage" that he had while making this experience killed the idea, at least for me. I know people would end up noticing his plan, but this seemed like a-movie-about-a-dude-who-did-something-that-was-going-to-be-a-movie-anyhow instead of truly just an experiment. I don't know how to explain this... shit. Um. It seemed a little gimmicky. And the fact that the movie ended and we didn't get to see how much he truly not-impacted... Um... Yeah. Loose ends.
Anyways, there is cool things to take away from it anyways. Being No Impact is hard. Very hard. And tiresome. And cool. And healthy. And interesting. And weird for a little kid. And weird for your friends... By making his life sans tv and limiting his travel options, for some reason he now had more time with his family. The days ended up being longer and the evenings much more fun. Go figure.
I have mixed feelings about this one, but I would still recommend it for those of you out there who really love documentaries like I do. It's now available in Netflix and also On-Demand via Cable.
A week ago I stumbled on a documentary on Netflix that sparked some interest: Second Skin. Since I love playing video games (and have ended up playing at 4-5 in the morning), this flick seemed like it was going to be very interesting.
And then some.
Ok let me give you the basics: Second Skin is about one thing only. MMORPG's. Ok, let's break it down now: massively multiplayer online role-playing games. Nothing yet? People who play games like World of Warcraft. Got it now? Good.
So. It's very simple. You install a garden variety game to your computer. You connect to the internet. You play as a monster, evil whatever, dark lord... any nerd thing you wish to be. Little by little you get to connect with other video game geeks from around the globe. And then?
And then... you start sleeping less. You work and get home as fast as you can to keep playing. You pay people in China to get you swords, coins or whatever. You lose contact with society. You don't play any attention to your mother, wife, brothers, friends, boyfriends, husbands, etc. You (and I'm not kidding) actually think hard when your baby comes and you know that your gaming hours will be affected.
This is what Second Skin is about. It's about how some people get lost in the video game and can't find their way back to reality. Some just make poor choices (women trying to find dates on the game), some just give up (one young man killed himself because he was too addicted to the game and could not quit it).
It's very good. If you're into anything related to video games, internet and tech stuff, marketing... you really need to see this. A big what the fuck awaits.
Yes. I used caps in that title. It's me, screaming my lungs off. I will show anybody my boobs and womanly privates WITH PLEASURE if that means that I am going to survive a plane flight.
Am I referring to the use of scans at airports. Yes. Am I not "worried" about privacy? FUCK THAT. In fact, let me state it, very plainly. Fuck my privacy. Fuck your privacy. We've seen tits. We've seen ass. We've seen dongers and big hairy balls. YES. BALLS. You've seen balls. I've seen balls. Not a big whoop anymore.
Are you really thinking that you need to worry about showing your butt in order to live????
Well sorry guys. If you are worried about a stupid thing like that, I totally get you. Travel by boat and leave the rest of us the option of NOT DYING when some idiot decides to tape some dangerous chemical to his balls.
Why am I so angry? Oh! Let's explain.
Let's start with the fact that I got on a plane on December 26. A day after that idiotic buttmuncher Nigerian decided to play kaboom with the lives of 250+ people. I went on my vacation and when I got back to the airport, I spent 4-5 hours - and I am not exaggerating one bit - from the front of the airport to the terminal.
Some lady almost, and I mean almost, went boldly where only my boyfriend goes. My luggage was completely screened. Both our carry on bags were denied at the gate, we had to hurry and put all we could in my bag so we only had one thing between us. Oh, and when we got to the gate... surprise. Another screening, another woman wanted to see if something fit under my boobs (Um. Honey, I pass the boob pencil test. My boobs are perky, even if I wanted not one little explosive would stick... Beeyatch!). Another dude actually opened up my makeup, opened my wallet. They looked in every nook and cranny.
Did I mind? Hell NO! I would have bent over and shown them anything they want. But now, the thing that pisses me off. People are actually bitching about not having body scanners because, gasp, it would mean the loss of their privacy. WHAT? Dude! They are looking inside your bag! Your plastic shlong WILL be seen! Your candy panties will be the talk of the gate anyways! Why not just make the process easier and faster and let a scanner do the rest!
Look. I want to live after going to Hawaii, Greece or any other country in my bucket list. If that means that we all have to look at our little boobies and dicks, so be it. What matters the most? I say my life.
Sitting at my airplane seat, the options for movies were many. I could go the nerd way and reach for some Potter. I could go nostalgic and go for Juno. But in the list, there was a little movie my mom told me that she liked and I thought, oh well, let's see if she's right. She was.
I saw Julie and Julia on both plane rides and I fell in love. This is one of those movies you think are just chick flicks... but in reality, they're not. This is an excellent movie from one of my favorite writers of all time, Nora Ephron. How good? I'm buying Child's book and yes... people of earth, I will attempt to start learning how to cook beyond burgers and sandwiches.
First of all, let's get this Meryl Streep thing done: this woman is out of this world. Truly. I think she might be an alien. How, pray tell, did she literally become Julia Child? Please tell me! Did she cook up some DNA and manually inject herself with this woman? Look. If you don't believe me, give the movie exactly 10 minutes of your time. If when Streep first starts talking your jaw doesn't drop to the floor... then... oh well you won't enjoy this movie. This woman made this film a truly joy to see. She's funny - SO FUNNY! Lovable to the point of madness.
Amy Adams is also brilliant. Her character is one of those people who are looking for purpose in life (who isn't?) and when she finds it, well, she just goes a little berzerk. I loved her vulnerability, desperation and watching her cook made me actually want to learn to cook, if you can believe that.
If you lived under a rock and don't know the story behind the movie, here's the basic idea: Julie Powell decided one day to write a blog because she was bored and wanted to do something cool (this story sounds so similar, ha). She decided to cook, in one year, all the recipes from Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" and blog about it. What happened next? Her blog became a total success and she got offered to write a book (this story now suddenly seems not so familiar); and then came the movie (yeah, like the WAS movie is ever going to happen... damn).
The movie is a mix between both of their stories and the way they intertwine is so very interesting to watch. It's a very simple movie, don't get me wrong. This is not, for example, Doubt - which leaves you wanting to die from brain exhaustion. This just is a nice movie to feel good, happy, laugh, want to bake a chocolate cake and yes, go out to eat. Mainly, in France.
Streep deserves the Oscar. Period. So, enjoy. Bon Appetit! Link to the actual original blog is by clicking at the name of the post.
Here's to hoping someone actually offers to do a movie about our little rants. Although... it would be a sort of gory movie... LOL.
