I Don't Know How to Ride A Bike...
(and other ramblings)

Worst. Movie. Ever?

Christine — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 02:24:00 +0000

So it all began innocently enough when Ben told me to look at a video on YouTube. Little did I know that watching this 30-second video clip would change my life.

Do I need to be so dramatic? Probably not. But it's not every day that you spend a considerable amount of time trying to track down a movie made in 1990 on a budget of $5.25.

The movie in question?

(Are you sure that one was not enough? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it was.)

I have a child-like wonderment when it comes to stuff like this (i. e. stuff that normal people would generally spend five seconds thinking about), so when I heard that TROLL 2 was voted one of the worst movies ever made on the Internet Movie Database (funnily enough, The Hottie and the Nottie is currently #1), I just had to see it for myself.

So is the film as bad as the VHS cover would have you believe?

If this picture is any indication...

...then the answer is a resounding SO BAD IT'S...BAD.

And yet, I have a strange compulsion to document it.

Here are 21 reasons why TROLL 2 is maybe not so great.

1. BAD STUNT WORK

If you look closely, you might notice that this guy trips over absolutely nothing. At least the editors are kind: this appears within the first minute of the film, so it gives you a chance to shut off the DVD player and spend your hour-and-a-half more wisely than watching TROLL 2. Unfortunately, it only made me want to see more.

2. COSTUMING BY AN EX-PORN STAR

It's also very apt that her name appears as we're treated to her potato sack troll-friendly summer line. It's also apt that as someone who spent the better part of her youth unclothed, she spent her latter years dressing others.

3. NILBOG

This is the town where the all-American Waits family vacation on some convoluted "family exchange." I know, I don't get it either. Even a wrong turn or a flat tire en route to a "The Tyra Banks Show" taping would have made more sense. The biggest revelation that "Nilbog" is "Goblin" spelled backwards (the beauty, I suppose, is in the simplicity, and oh, how simple it is) doesn't even come until the half-way mark. Which brings me to...

4. TROLLS vs. GOBLINS vs. LEPRECHAUNS

So the film is called TROLL 2, even though it's not a sequel to Troll and doesn't actually feature trolls. And the town is called "Nilbog," obviously named after the townsfolk. But for some strange reason, we're supposed to make a connection via tattooed four leaf clovers that these people are nefarious trolls. I love movies that go through several identity crises just because they can.

5. TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL DAD

Mr. Waits is the archetypal family patriarch -- steadfast, patient, and loving. He's also got an affinity for revealing pajamas, in which he likes to lounge around in, always ready for a romance novel cover shoot should the opportunity arise spontaneously in his living room. Unfortunately, by the next shot, the director's made him cover up. Boo.

Just to refresh our fond memories, let's see it again:

But the big question is, can this look be easily incorporated in our every day lives?

Yes, yes it can! Thanks, Laura Gemser!

(Here's some fun trivia: George Hardy, the actor playing the father, is a real-life dentist.)

6. HOLLY WAITS AND HER WACKY BOYFRIEND

Holly is the rebellious teen daughter who likes to work out in her room, tease her hair, and date emasculated men. When her boyfriend, Elliott, climbs up her bedroom window and nearly scares her, causing her to knee him in the groin, she has this fascinating conversation with him:

ELLIOTT: "Are you nuts? Are you trying to turn me into a homo?"
HOLLY: "Wouldn't be too hard! If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you."
ELLIOTT: "And you?"
HOLLY: "I like you."

They bicker some more about Elliott's need to bring his pervy friends everywhere. I might point out that the argument arises because Elliott has brought his friends to this midnight rendezvous. When confronted with Holly's impatience, Elliott says, "What's wrong with having friends?" To which Holly replies, "Nothing, if you want to remain a virgin all your life. You take them to bed with you too! And I don't believe in group sex." Elliott is sad.

In real life, Holly would be way too high maintenance to date. One second she's beating the crap out of her boyfriend, and the next she's coyly flirting with him. It's also strange that in the next chunk of clunky dialogue, she invites him on the family trip, considering how her father hates him and all.

But in Holly's defense, her boyfriend is pretty annoying (and possibly a long-lost member of Menudo). So let's see her deliver some street justice once more.

7. THE HOLLY WAITS DANCE

This was just one of many WTF moments to be mined from this movie. Is this filler? The director's loving tribute to "Thriller"? A new form of jazzercise? But most importantly, is Holly really an Aries? Watching this wacky, nonsensical and non-plot-driving dance unfold before your eyes is worth the price of rental alone.

8. THE BASEBALL OF FORESHADOWING

Instead of shelling out a couple of bucks for a soundtrack of foreboding music found in most discount stores after Hallowe'en, the makers of TROLL 2 have opted to show us that something ominous is about to happen through a magical baseball that reveals all via green food colouring.

Wait, I didn't quite get it. Can I have another clue?

Ah. Thanks.

9. THE GOOGLY-EYED GOBLIN

No list can go by without a shout-out to the goblins who actually make the film, and this one, which pops up intermittently to show us of what we can all do with our fifth grade Hallowe'en masks, is probably my favourite. How can you be scared of something that looks so tragically comical? And most importantly, how can you stay mad at it?

10. BAD SPECIAL EFFECTS

It goes without saying that TROLL 2 would be riddled with these, but it's sometimes akin to watching a junior high drama club stage an adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I don't know what's worse, the special effects or the tacky 80s decor. And this is supposed to pass for lightning.

But the most laughable thing has to be this:

They couldn't just hire a freckled actress if they wanted them so badly?

11. VEGETARIAN GOBLINS

Seriously. No one actually gets eaten in this film until they turn into a puddle of green digestible goo. Like, if you were to encounter one of these goblins (let's hope it's the googly-eyed one!), they couldn't actually eat you. Instead, they would try to force green jelly slime down your throat that turns you into goo so that they could eat you. This process takes up way too much time...which brings us to the next point.

12. THE GREEN GOO

The trolls spend half of the movie trying to entice people with their form-changing food. And half the time, it doesn't work. Perhaps they should come up with a different course of action; one, say, that doesn't involve trying to trick people into eating food. I don't know about you, but watching these trolls try to coax a young boy into having a bowl of ice cream doesn't exactly scream "menacing" to me.

Speaking of Joshua Waits, why are the trolls constantly trying to turn him into goo so that they can eat him?

He doesn't seem like he would be of much substance, being a child and all. And he's obviously way smarter than they are, foiling their plans at almost every turn. Luckily for the trolls, he seems to be the only remotely intelligent person in this entire film.

13. THE LOSS OF LOGIC

There are many instances where watching TROLL 2 feels like you're witnessing Sheri Sheppard teach a science class, and this is just one of many leaps in logic: When the Waits family arrives in Nilbog, they don't actually bring any food with them. I don't know if they expected their host family to provide all meals, but I would say that it's pretty stupid to plan a family exchange with no regard to eating arrangements. And yet, they're actually shocked that the fridge is stocked with nothing but spoiled milk.

This is Drew, one of Elliott's friends. Like Elliott, he's not really all that bright. And like the Waits family, neither boys think to bring food when they follow the Waits to Nilbog. When Elliott is presented with this sandwich, which is obviously laced with the green goo of troll malice, he doesn't hesitate to wolf it down. But really, would anyone really eat a sandwich that looked like it was stuffed with coleslaw? On the other hand, coleslaw is good, so I can forgive Drew for sealing his own fate.

What I can't get behind is the Waits' stupidity. Not moments ago, Mr. Waits witnessed this bearded man menace his son with a bowl of ice cream, and now they're all happy that the same man is throwing them a party. I guess they're just easy that way.

To be continued...

Totally. Random.

Christine — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 00:33:00 +0000

I saw this on the MTV Canada site and it really pissed me off (the issue of me even being on the MTV site will be addressed at a much, much later time).

Psst: Look closer.

I know I'm anal, but I'm sure MTV Canada can afford a proof-reader or two, no?

I'm Technology's Bitch...And Also, Happy New Year!

Christine — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 02:35:00 +0000

So I haven't posted in a while, and now it's 2008. I would say that time flies, but really, it's just a case of me being a deadbeat again. There have been some changes since my last post. Most notably, I moved again. I went from a cozy apartment in downtown Toronto to a box in Liberty Village. This is what it looks like:

Yes, that is a giant teddy bear on my couch. And now you know why I was single for two years.

The photo was taken about one week after I'd moved in, but things haven't really changed much. Oh, maybe the box that doubles as my temporary table is less cluttered now, and the garbage bag has moved from that corner to the other one.

Living here has its advantages; I'm much closer to work, and there's an LCBO about five minutes away. But given my proximity to the lake, it also gets much windier and cooler than normal. Luckily, I haven't ventured out much because it's my hibernation time, and I much prefer to lure people to my box than to leave it.

The move was relatively smooth, but for some reason, I had a total technology breakdown when my Internet stopped working. After I'd wept and thrown tantrums and rocked myself to sleep in the fetal position, I tried to figure out what went wrong. Two weeks later, and I still had no Internet or explanation, and trying to find a(n unprotected) wireless connection in my area was like playing the odds at a casino (yes, I was so trying to steal someone's Internet connection). Fortunately, after I'd given up much hope and resigned myself to a life with no online videos of "A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila" and angry e-mails to Tyra Banks about the outcome of "America's Next Top Model," my modem sprang to life. It's also fortunate for the Internet company, as I'm sure this post would have turned into a long, incoherent rant otherwise.

I also participated in the National Novel Writing Month challenge in November. It was a lot of fun, but getting to 50,000 words in one month wasn't exactly easy. I think I ended up with about twenty pages of dialogue that went something like:
"What are you doing?" he said.
"Nothing," she replied. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing much," he said.
"Oh," she said.
Obviously, it needs a lot of editing.

I've also kept busy during my Internet blackout by watching my Season 3 DVDs of "Beverly Hills, 90210," a gift from a very generous Santa. This is the best season ever, for this is where Kelly and Dylan start up their summer fling and Brenda finds out. I'm relishing in my unabashed "90210" marathons almost every other day. I love how Steve managed to have a mullet even though he had the least amount of hair in the cast.

I haven't made any official New Year's resolutions, but I think trying to contain my rage and finally getting a pair of glasses so I don't have to squint every time I walk down the street should probably top the list.

Here's to a New Year, a new start, and lots of prosperity and less of Lindsay Lohan in 2008!

Some E-mail Etiquette

Christine — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 18:03:00 +0000

My boyfriend has been getting this guy's e-mails:

I find it quite amusing -- this guy is like the bizarro version of my non-dancing boyfriend -- but my boyfriend finds it less than titillating, mostly because he's been receiving casting calls for upcoming Cheetah Girls videos and various maps of California highways. So next time you send an e-mail, make sure you've got the right address, dots and hyphens and underscores and all, before hitting the send button.

Yay or nay?

Christine — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 00:32:00 +0000

You be the judge:

I say...still on the fence. Not the best song in the world, but "catchy" enough to be a decent "comeback" single. I'm not expecting The Emancipation of Mimi here -- although frankly, it would be hilarious if all the cigarette smoking, boozy all-nighters, and bad hygiene problems suddenly gave Britney a five-octave range.

Any takers on this one?

Random Pet Peeve #2

Christine — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 03:35:00 +0000

I'll be the first to admit that I obsessively harp on the stupidest things. And I'll probably be the first to admit that most of my thoughts are better kept to myself.

But I just can't seem to get over this, even though it's been years. For some odd reason, I had a compulsive need to watch Kill Bill (Volume I; Volume II was just way too chatty for me). I had already seen it in theatres back in 2003, but my memory is fickle and there have been many movies since. Unfortunately, I'm too cheap to go and rent it at Blockbuster, so imagine my surprise when I flipped the channel one lazy Saturday night (yes, I was home Saturday night...leave me be) to find Kill Bill Volume I in the midst of its second act. Since it's such a long-ass film, I hardly missed a thing.

And then, I saw that scene again.

In the scene above, which appears towards the end of the film (spoilers kind of abound -- but if you haven't seen this four-year-old movie by now, you probably never will), The Bride a.k.a. Black Mamba a.k.a. Beatrix Kiddo a.k.a. Quentin Tarantino and His Damn Code Names sits on a flight to the U.S., where she's returning to kick some ass. Since the film is not told in chronological order, this list is kind of redundant since we've already seen her eliminate the first two names.

Oh, but there's more. The rest of the list neatly sets up her next targets in the sequel, not that we couldn't have guessed based on the numerous repetitive flashback scenes and cast credits.

What seriously bugs me is not Tarantino's quirky style, or the way all his characters speak with heavy-handed subtext, or even the overzealous "homages" to the B-films he clearly idolizes, but the need to have The Bride write a list in the first place. This is mostly because there are five damn people on it, and if you can't keep track of the names of the five people who tried to kill you, succeeded in killing your fiancé and wedding party, and conspired to keep the whereabouts of your baby a secret, then maybe you're not cut out for the task.

Also, I just can't get over the fact that The Bride writes like a second-grader who's just had too much candy. You can practically see her sticking her tongue out of her mouth as she carefully writes out each letter.

I'm not a handwriting snob by any means, but it just seems to me that a grown woman wouldn't have the need to write so...largely, and with differently coloured pens, no less. How weirdly organized of her. Possible reasons for the stylistic choice in list-making: a) The Bride hates white space; b) The Bride is far-sighted and forgot her contacts; The Bride has to hand in her homework to my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Spadina, who hands out extra stickers when you involve colour-coded lists.

I get the fact that The Bride tried to convey her anger by making the lettering progressively bigger as she went down the list, but I don't get why a renowned and deadly assassin would leave any piece of incriminating evidence behind, let alone why she would so openly make a "death list five." Can you imagine if you were the guy sitting next to her on that plane? Would you even ask her what's up with that, or just try to take a nap and hope the crazy lady next to you moves by the time you get up?

For some reason, I'd always envisioned The Bride with a more cursive style of penmanship. At least something, anything, that doesn't resemble a seven-year-old's diary entry.

The Bride may be the first person I call when I need some asses kicked or lessons in breaking out of coffins, but when it comes to grocery lists and birthday cards, I think I'll handle it myself.

Heh

Christine — Fri, 03 Aug 2007 03:10:00 +0000

"Lipgloss" by the artist known as Lil Mama is a waste of a song -- the beats may be addictive, but the fluffy lyrics render the single far worse than anything Shakira's put out in the last year.

But maybe I was wrong. After seeing this, I wasn't so sure that the song went to waste. After all, it did provide fodder for YouTube's Brtnydnc1, who crafted this hilarious send-up of "Lipgloss." There really are no words to do this clip justice.

Honestly, can you tell the difference?

I Wanna Be Your Songwriter

Christine — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 00:35:00 +0000

There have been a lot of celebrity dramas popping up lately, but the ones that I've been chuckling about the most are the ones directed towards Avril Lavigne, she of the crappy The Best Damn Thing album. First came the lawsuit from the Rubinoos, who claim that she ripped off their 1979 song, "I Want to Be Your Boyfriend." Granted, the similarities in the chorus are uncanny ("Girlfriend": "Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend" vs. "I Want to Be Your Boyfriend": "Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your boyfriend"), but does a merely repetitive, annoying phrase count as blatant plagiarism? I mean, Lavigne may be a lot of things, like petulant, annoying, juvenile, belligerent, and middling...but is she a phony too? (You be the judge: See the side-by-side comparisons on YouTube.)

Then came the allegations from Canadian ex-BFF, Chantal Kreviazuk, who made some pretty damning comments to Performing Songwriter magazine, who featured Lavigne, 23, in a previous issue.

In her interview, Kreviazuk, 34, says, "I find it funny that [the interview] is in Performing Songwriter. I mean, Avril, songwriter? Avril doesn't really sit and write songs by herself or anything. Avril will also cross the ethical line, and no one says anything. That's why I'll never work with her again. I sent her a song two years ago called "Contagious," and I just saw the track listing to [The Best Damn Thing] and there's a song called "Contagious" on it — and my name's not on it. What do you do with that?" When asked if Kreviazuk would seek a lawsuit, the singer/songwriter responds, "See, I won't do that. I'll just tell you. Art should not be subjected to that kind of controversy. Art should be pure. In my head it is, anyway."

But then Lavigne struck back on her website (how shocking that she couldn't keep her mouth shut): "I was going to be the bigger person and not reply when I read Chantal Kreviazuk's article in Performing Songwriter magazine. Chantal's comments are damaging to my reputation and a clear defamation of my character and I am considering taking legal action. Chantal has also made false accusations about my writing skills. I am so over this topic...I don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Things seems to have changed since the two last worked together on Lavigne's 2004 Under My Skin. Speaking to Maxim later that year, Lavigne only had nice things to say about writing with Kreviazuk. "We were working from midnight until 5 in the morning. We were just getting together. We would buy a whole bunch of chocolate bars, and we would go to Starbucks and sit, and get really hyper and just write songs and talk about personal things. She's 10 years older than me, so she has a few years on me and can give me advice and also, she learned things from me."

But alas, the good tidings were never meant to last. Lavigne went on to comment that she decided to drop Kreviazuk like a hot potato because "we had no hits together. That is why her name is not on this record, despite her numerous attempts to be included, which were always denied. From my perspective this is a clear case of bitterness. Chantal is upset that she didn't get to be a part of my record." For those keeping score, Kreviazuk is credited for "Together," "He Wasn't," "How Does It Feel," "Forgotten," "Who Knows," and "Slipped Away" on Under My Skin. And yes, all those tracks did kind of suck.

Faced with a possible lawsuit, Kreviazuk, perhaps fretting over lawyer costs that her music career could never cover, retracted her earlier jabs. "When I saw the track listing to Avril's new record, it caught my attention that she had the same title as a song I had sent her a while back. When I heard it, I immediately realized it was a coincidence. The songs have nothing in common. I would like to apologize for any misconceptions concerning Avril Lavigne, which may have resulted from statements I made in my interview with Performing Songwriter magazine. It was not my intention to call Avril's songwriting ability or ethics into question. My statements and any inference from my statements, which call into question Avril's ethics or ability as a respected and acclaimed songwriter, should be disregarded and are retracted. Avril is an accomplished songwriter and it has been my privilege to work with her."

Besides the obvious (why would Kreviazuk get into a huff over a song that she had never heard — what, did she make up the word "contagious"? And even so, why would Kreviazuk want to be associated with a song that seriously sucks?), it seems like a case of the foot-in-the-mouth disappearing act that celebrities are so known for. You know, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all, but if you're going to do it, don't take it back five minutes later. Whatever happened to having a little conviction? But Kreviazuk's quick retraction and unwarranted slathering of kissing-up may have something to do with office politics — both artists are currently housed under the Nettwerk label.

In other news:

There are a lot of things inherently wrong with NBC's new contribution to the reality show smorgasboard, "Age of Love," that would probably take a dissertation to cover, but the one thing that's been irking me (besides the whole premise of the show), are the women's bios on the NBC website.

Of Megan, the 21-year-old Jessica Biel look-alike, NBC says, "Megan is jealous that her friends from high school are getting married, and she's feeling ready to take the plunge herself, though she recently ended a 10-month relationship, but she knows exactly what she wants: someone between the ages of 26 and 32 who can make her stomach flip when she sees him and who isn't scared to fly on planes like she is!"

And Maria, the 42-year-old photographer, is "a modern, confident woman who has no problem asking men out on dates – just as long as they are in their 30's to 50's. However, she does fall in love easily and can be aggressive when in relationships. At the age of 42, she's now sure of two things: she's glad she's not in her 20's and that really good-looking men don't quite cut it in the boudoir."

Okay, who writes these bios? Is it a six-year-old looking to make some extra cash, or a Harlequin novel ghost-writer who's fallen off the wagon? Sadly, I suspect that it may be the women themselves — in which case, we can only wish the best of luck to them in life.

Nicole Richie may be pregnant...which begs the question, will she be able to squeeze a small baby out with those hips?

The "Sex & The City" film is back on. As long as shrill and self-involved Carrie gets her much-deserved comeuppance, and Miranda does more than carry a baby around, I'm there.

And..."The Apprentice" is coming back for another crazy season. Is this a smart move from NBC, the station that went from being #1 to #4 (behind FOX, no less)? After the previous three seasons (zzzzzzzz), plus the big egotistical blow up between the Donanld and Rosie O'Donnell, it would have probably been wiser to play reruns of "The Golden Girls" in that timeslot.

Wednesday Diversions...

Christine — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 20:56:00 +0000

As usual, I'm about two months tardy joining the bandwagon, but I finally got a chance to see this clip on You Tube:

Call me a sentimental, sappy crybaby (just please, not to my face), but I got a little emotional watching this clip.

Just think about it...this four minute clip serves as a harbinger for two of the most fundamental lessons in life:
1. Never judge a book by its cover.
2. It's never too late to reach your dreams.

I'm just gobsmacked that anything remotely positive could be associated with Simon Cowell.

Music Video Spotlight: Avril Lavigne, "Girlfriend"

Christine — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 23:22:00 +0000

Are you sick of her yet? To promote her new album, sk8er girl Avril Lavigne has been on a whirlwind of tours, live concerts, press promotions, and has even landed herself a gig on "Saturday Night Live" this weekend -- all in the name of reclaiming her 2002 punk princess title. She's everywhere you look, and that's not necessarily a good thing.

In an interview with Jane magazine (that's been reprinted numerous times by various news outlets), Avril speaks about married life to Sum 41 frontman Deryck Whibley. As she so eloquently puts it, "If some girl was going after my man, I'd punch them. I don't think stealing any girl's guy is a nice thing - it's totally mean."

Which brings us to Avril's latest single, "Girlfriend," where she sings about stealing another girl's guy. Sadly, she doesn't get punched.

In "Girlfriend," Avril totally goes back to her punk pop roots by donning a black wig and being all angry and stuff.

But wait! She's also playing the aforementioned prissy girlfriend, who, in real life, would never be dating the emo boy they cast in this video.

I haven't been this amused since Mariah Carey's 1999 music video for "Heartbreaker."

I didn't think this impudent song could get more annoying but, somehow, this video amplifies it even more. So the whole point of the song is that PunkAvril doesn't think that PrissyAvril deserves her boyfriend, and proceeds to harass the couple until the guy dumps PrissyAvril. I'm sure that a guy who scopes out other women while on a date and is easily enticed by strange women wearing bad wigs is a keeper.

I don't know which part I hate more -- the way Avril sings,"I can, I can do it bet-tah!," or the fact that the video takes an all too light-hearted approach to poaching other people's partners (and is executed very poorly in terms of direction in the video), or that PunkAvril is unnecessarily mean in all her scenes, because being a bully is fun and cool, especially if you do it to people who are different from you. Here are some of Avril's finer moments:

She tries to mow down her competition...with a go kart.

The video implies that photo booth pictures are lame (they're not!), and yet PunkAvril gets the best of her competition by physically removing her from the booth and inserting herself into the pictures. There are weird shades of Single White Female and Fatal Attraction here, but I'm sure Avril's fan base isn't too interested in these sorts of films.

As a bonus, PunkAvril has Dark and Twisty friends that pop out of nowhere to lend a hand. Incredibly, they're even more poseurish than she is, if that's possible.

After being harassed and physically assaulted, PrissyAvril gets hungry and decides to share a nice snack with her boyfriend. You know it won't last as long as PunkAvril is on the scene. She tosses away their food in an act of defiance. How subversive! How Avril didn't receive a beat-down at this point, I'll never know.

Over at the mini-golf range (how punk!), the terror continues as PunkAvril decides to lob golf balls at her nemesis' head as her friends laugh on.

But then, the best part of the video happens! Avril "dances," except she's exerting as much energy as a newborn kitten taking a nap. The dance to this song is comprised of a lot of hand-clapping, head tilting, and hip popping. The background dancer in pink looks like she's 40 and was dressed by Cindy Lauper.

Thankfully, PunkAvril's scheming and general bitchiness works, because she lands the man of her dreams (or the man of the moment -- I think for her, it's interchangeable) by the end of the video. Phew! For a moment there, I thought these two crazy kids would never get together.

So let's recap what this video has taught us: a) don't worry if a guy is on a date -- he does secretly want you, and is only playing hard to get; b) if you don't like the way someone dresses, then it's OK to physically assault them and steal their boyfriend; c) juvenile pranks will get you very far in life; d) dancing in a bathroom is very cool; and e) if you steal Avril's husband, you are a stank ho; if Avril steals your husband, then you didn't deserve him in the first place. Naturally!

Oh Avril, you're so rock'n'roll!

Oscars Shmoscars

Christine — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 03:58:00 +0000

So the title of this post is a little misleading because it sounds like I'm dismissing the Oscars, which were broadcast a couple of days ago, when in reality I: a) watched the whole broadcast; b) participated in a betting pool based on the broadcast; and c) am going to proceed to talk about the Oscars at length.

Now that the Oscar hoopla has died down -- and we know who wore what, who failed to impress the fashion critics, who gave the best and worst speeches, and who went home with who after the after-parties -- we can look forward to next season's predictably equally boring and drawn-out broadcast (and the prospect of another freshly-shaven Jack Nicholson sighting).

But after this season's ceremony, I'm not sure how much I'm looking forward to another three-plus hours of awards and celebrity masturbating. My dour mood may be a result of being a sore loser. OK, it has everything to do with the fact that I lost the pool. It was a very unpredictable year, and two of the biggest upsets cost me a cool $20 (...in our annual pool, we aim low). First was the Best Supporting Actor category, which went to Alan Arkin for Little Miss Sunshine. While my pick was no better (ahem, Eddie Murphy, who followed up his Oscar nomination with the worst film in the world), Arkin's performance was nowhere near the caliber of Djimon Hounsou, Mark Wahlberg, or Jackie Earle Haley. Similarly, Best Foreign Language Film went to a film that no one outside of Academy voters has ever seen, while the very excellent Pan's Labyrinth got all the technical awards but no big win.

This isn't the first time I've been a little more than disappointed at the outcome of the Academy Awards. There have been several wins that I think were undeserved. And while I'm no big fancy shmancy Academy Award voter, I do have my own free blog, so here are my unpopular opinions:

2005 Best Picture: Crash

Crash was a good movie, but it should have gone to Brokeback Mountain. There's just something about a big ensemble piece that's all about Sending A Very Special Message About Racism that doesn't pack the same artistic and affected punch as an understated love story between two cowboys.

The acting in Crash was great, but the myriad of intertwined storylines seemed convoluted at times. Specifically, I could have done without Sandra Bullock's Lifetime Lesson of the Week as a woman who learns, through loneliness, that her bigoted ways were wrong. And Ryan Phillippe's slack-jawed cop, though integral to the plot, might have been more compelling with more back story -- at least then we could try to care about the person, rather than just reacting to the person's actions.

In contract, Brokeback Mountain was a much simpler movie, but the cinematography, direction, and acting put it over the top. Who knew that Heath Ledger could actually act? And that Michelle Williams could have a life after "Dawson's Creek"? At least Ang Lee received an Oscar for his efforts, so not all was in vain.

2005 Best Actress In A Leading Role: Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line
Reese Witherspoon was fortunate enough to churn out a good performance in an otherwise unremarkable year for leading women in cinema, but her performance in Walk the Line was nothing to write home about. After hearing so much about the film and all of Witherspoon's trophies, I expected to be blown away by the film and her acting. Instead I was kind of amused, but mostly bored (and a little hungry).

I do like Witherspoon as an actress, but as June Carter, she seems like she's stuck in a romantic comedy with a dramatic twist -- Spunky Woman meets Complicated Man, Spunky Woman falls in love with Complicated Man, Complicated Man hits rock bottom, only to be nursed back to health by Spunky Woman who, in turn, forgives him and makes him Better Man. I suspect that half of the awe in Witherspoon's performance, much like Jamie Foxx's performance in Ray, was because of her authentic musical performance in the film.

But if you want to talk authentic performances, then let's take a look at Felicity Huffman in Transamerica. Not only was she strikingly convincing as a pre-op transsexual, but she made Bree a flawed but compelling person instead of a caricature, which could have very well been the fate of the role in less capable hands. Transamerica isn't the best film of its year (which may have been why Huffman was overlooked), but Huffman was certainly the Best Actress.

2003 Adapted Screenplay: The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
I know this isn't a much-lauded category (let's face it, screenwriters aren't really household names), and I know my saying this is probably blasphemy, but Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King should not have won Best Adapted Screenplay. My reason? Half of the film involved intricate and overly long battle scenes, and the other involved intricate and overly long special effects sequences. How hard was that to adapt??? Plus, the ending was about one hour too long. Any of the other nominees -- American Splendor, City of God, Mystic River, or Seabiscuit (wait, not Seabiscuit) -- would have been a much more adequate winner.

2002 Best Picture: Chicago
I think it was a huge surprise to many that a musical managed to win Best Picture in 2002, but Chicago was apparently this year's Dreamgirls. I have nothing against musicals, Renee Zellweger, or Catherine Zeta-Jones' bob, but I don't think Chicago deserved the golden statuette.

The other nominees, which included Gangs of New York, The Hours, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, and The Pianist, were a potpourri of Hollywood offerings. On one hand, you had a period piece by Martin Scorcese (is it me, or does that man become increasingly cute with time?), while in the other, there was a fantasy film about a hobbit and his merry troop of men battling the forces of evil. And then there was The Hours, which was a sweeping but ultimately forgettable film about three generations of women (and Nicole Kidman's prosthetic nose).

Which leaves The Pianist, directed by Best Director winner Roman Polanski and starring Best Actor winner Adrien Brody. In terms of overall end product (not to mention the beautiful performances and poignant plot), this was my bet for Best Film.

1997 Actress In A Leading Role: Helen Hunt, As Good As It Gets
Really? I don't know why they didn't give this one to Kate Winslet for her turn as Rose in Titanic. Not only did the film earn the entire world's gross domestic product three times over, but it also made teen girls swoon. But that's not really the reason that Winslet should have won the Oscar; the real reason is because she is rapidly becoming the next Martin Scorcese -- always the bridesmaid, never the bride. If Winslet had won the Oscar, we would have been very content with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Finding Neverland, and Little Children. In contast, Hunt gave us Pay It Forward, What Women Want, and Bobby. It's not so much the so-called Best Actress Oscar curse that did Hunt in, but the Academy's penchant for overlooking a superior actress.

1994 Best Picture: Forrest Gump
I admit it: I enjoyed Forrest Gump. Immensely. It made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me want to play ping-pong and then run a couple of miles. And in the '90s, it was probably one of the best films to grace the big screen.

Nevertheless, my Best Picture pick goes to The Shawshank Redemption. It has drama, it has conviction, and it has Tim Robbins and Morgan Freedman in one of the best roles of their lives. I'll take Andy Dufresne over a box of chocolates any day.

From start to finish, The Shawshank Redemption is a gripping tale about hardships, friendships, and the power of hope. It may be argued that Forrest Gump includes many of these elements in its execution, but The Shawshank Redemption, in my opinion, does it slightly better.

One of the things I love about this film is its dialogue. I'm big on dialogue, and as maudlin as The Shawshank Redemption can get, it gets me every time. With his sophisticated, gravelly voice, Morgan Freeman makes a great narrator. And when he says: "I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free," I dare you to not be moved.

Music Video Spotlight: Justin Timberlake, "What Goes Around..."

Christine — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 23:13:00 +0000

Finally, the epic video for "What Goes Around...Comes Around" is here. I've been anticipating this video for a while, partly because Justin managed to nab Scarlett Johansson for the lead (which, as the song implies, is not headed for a happy ending), and partly because it's one of my favourite songs from Future Sex/Love Sounds.

The video is damn long, but if you like slick, overproduced music videos with convoluted story lines and overindulgent dramatic efforts, this one's for you.

"What Goes Around...Comes Around"

In case you haven't seen it/can't be bothered to see it, this is the gist of the nine minute music video:

And here are some things I've learned from the video, besides the fact that when you cheat on Justin Timberlake, death is imminent:

This is what a distraught Scarlett Johansson looks like when she's caught cheating on Justin Timberlake and decides that the only way to get out of this music video is to race off into the night.

This is what a distraught Justin Timberlake looks like when he's just witnessed his cheating girlfriend's horrific car crash.

This is what a horrific car crash looks like.

And this is what a victim of a horrific car crash looks like.

Again, horrific car crash:

Said car crash victim:

I'm not even sure where the video goes wrong, but it does. (And is it me, or are there too many gratuitous shots of Justin making out with Scarlett?). It tries too hard to be affected and edgy, which leaves it a little too empty -- even for a pop song.

I'm...back!

Christine — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 02:40:00 +0000

Mother of pearl! Has it really been two months since I've posted anything? I just logged into my Blogger account to find that Blogger is now partnered with Google. How long has this been going on? I feel as confused as that one time I unwittingly wandered into the men's restroom.

Anyway, not much has happened in these past few months to warrant any sort of lengthy discussion, so I'll catch up with some pictures.

Ben and I moved out! I'm not much of a cook, so Ben does the brunt of the work while I amuse myself by displaying jars of sauce.

We celebrated Christmas at our new place. The badly wrapped gifts are the product of my handy work. I find that if you stick a shiny bow on it, it's much less noticeable.

We occasionally fed our friends pasta.

And hot pot.

I drank champagne, but not before taking pictures of it.

I went skiing at Blue Mountain. The green tinge is the product of my sucky nighttime picture-taking.

In between hitting the slopes (i.e. the bunny hill, which I pwned, by the way), I admired the charming Blue Mountain decor.

I took cheesy pictures of myself.

And pictures of my lamp.

(See, not very exciting at all.)

I'm not much for New Year's resolutions, but I did tell myself that I should be a little more pro-active with my blog. After all, a lazy wanna-be writer makes for a crappy wanna-be writer.

So until next time...

And The Nominees For Worst Album Cover Are...

Christine — Wed, 29 Nov 2006 00:36:00 +0000

Bette Midler, Cool Yule

Beyonce, B'Day

Diana Krall, From This Moment On

Diddy, Press Play

Gwen Stefani, The Sweet Escape

A Bunch of Teenagers, High School Musical Soundtrack

Weird Al Yankovic, Straight Outta Lynwood

This Just In...

Christine — Tue, 07 Nov 2006 21:47:00 +0000

Some might attribute my fantastically vast time between posts to sheer laziness or an unhealthy penchant for watching You Tube for hours on end. But the truth is, I waited this long so that I could follow up my last post with this:

HA!

-- LATER --

Here's Britney Spears with a nifty new haircut, looking all happy and cute on "The Late Show With David Letterman." It's nice to see that she's back to bathing herself and occasionally kicking scumbags to the curb.

Screen caps courtesy of Breathe Heavy.com. You can go there for all the latest news on the divorce proceedings.

Music Video Spotlight: Kevin Federline, "Lose Control"

Christine — Tue, 26 Sep 2006 02:28:00 +0000

Since it usually takes me about three months to catch up to the general public, I've only recently been privy to K-Fed's unabashedly derivative single, "Lose Control." As far as singles go, it's pretty laughable. But I like the fact that he's so enthused about proving everyone wrong that he's regressed to being painfully clueless about everything, including himself. I mean, if I were him, I'd be all like, "Shit, I'm Kevin Federline. That sucks." But enough about the imaginary conversations that I have in my head. We'll let the artiste speak for himself.

Without further ado...Kevin Federline in "Lose Control."

Don't forget, in addition to having the hip-hop flavour, he's also a little bit of rock 'n' roll.

You'd think that with Britney's Gold card, Kevin would be able to afford a better production, but perhaps the child support payments have prevented him from hiring an actual entourage.

You know that guy is all shifty-eyed because he's worried someone will see him with Kevin Federline. He probably thinks that he's in line for an actual club, or the men's room. And you'd think he'd throw on a nicer shirt if he knew he'd be appearing on television. This guy is actually my favourite part of the video.

Unfortunately, things don't get more exciting than this, including K-Fed's insistence that he's "got them beats that make you lose control." If I wanted to hear a song that reminded me of Europe's "The Final Countdown," I would actually listen to Europe.

Next, Kevin borrows from the vault of horrible hip-hop video clichés...well, videos from the early '90s, at least.

The obligatory and totally random "hot" video hoes. Check.

(I love the product placement. You know goldenpalace.com probably financed the video. And directed it.)

(Not the same girl. Or is it? I guess hiring one girl to double as many cuts down on costs.)

(Ooh. Now I know that ain't Britney! Or maybe it is. Watch out fake Britney! Kevin Federline brushing up on you is probably enough to get you pregnant.)

The obligatory frontin' in the club like everyone is not paid to be there to fawn all over you. Check.

(I like how, despite possible camera time, everyone keeps their distance anyway.)

(You know he's probably drinking something gross like Red Bull and vodka.) (And the crappy blue lighting effects make me feel like I'm stuck in a Japanese horror movie, or Blade.)

The obligatory random person dancing in a crowd while everyone looks on. Check.

You'd think that with all of Kevin's ex-dancer connections, he'd be able to find actual dancers instead of gyrating girl and drunk guy. But then again, compared to Kev's stylings, these two should be on Broadway.

I thought he used to be a back-up dancer? Of course, back-up dancers can rarely ascertain that they have "the lifestyle of rich livin’ & fast cars." Don't mess with Kevin, 'cause he'll let you know that you shouldn't "hate ’cause I’m a superstar, and I married a superstar, never come between us no matter who you are." I wasn't aware that being borderline broke made one a "superstar." If that were the case, then I'd be a superstar ten times over.

Things get more ludicrous when Feddy-Boy says that he's not trying to brag, but would like for us to know that "one ring cost more than your budget...my Ferrari cost more than your little S-Class -- look man, I’m in a whole other tax bracket...40 grand take the whole crew to Miami, and then we pop Cris off like we won Grammies. I take care of my homies, that’s my family." Kevin does realize that none of this is true, right? And that he hasn't earned any of this money himself? I can't feel too sorry for his taking advantage of Britney. She is an enabler, after all.

But I am glad that to hear that Kevin will take care of the guy from the beginning of the video. He's my homey too.

I can't fault K-Fed for not knowing what "self-aware" or "hygiene" means. Who has time to learn new words when they're ripping up the charts with droll puns? I mean, "Step up in the club so fresh and so clean, not the outcast that they label me," and, "Never been to Denver, but I rock the nugget" is pure genius. Well, at least it is to Britney.

Rock on, Kevin.

Random Pet Peeve #1

Christine — Tue, 12 Sep 2006 23:01:00 +0000

If you're hungry, don't sit there for two hours waiting for someone to order appetizers so you can start snacking on them and then pay for nothing when the bill arrives. Please order your own damn food.

Christine Does Europe...For The Very First Time

Christine — Wed, 06 Sep 2006 16:14:00 +0000

10 days + 1 sexy boyfriend + 1 erratic, A-type personality sister + 1 English frat-boy type brother-in-law - proper sleep of any sort + 1 round-trip ticket to London + 1 round-trip ticket Amsterdam + 1 single-trip visit to English doctor's office = 1 very interesting trip.

THINGS I WILL MISS ABOUT ENGLAND:

The executive lounge at Pearson Airport. I don't know what we did to deserve this, but it was an excellent start to our 8:00 AM flight.

The accent. I can never get enough of it.

The rolling green hills. Because they're great to frolic in. And unlike Toronto's usual pukey green landscape, England has about three thousand different shades of glorious green to revel in.

The pubs. I love the fact that most local watering holes seem to come straight from a Lord of the Rings movie set. I half expected to see Elijah Wood in the corner, murmuring about his love for Sam Gamgee.

The tube. Efficient, practical, and extensive. Also surprisingly clean considering that trash cans in London seem to be almost non-existent.

The sights.

Family. I met my little cousins for the very first time, and they are the most precious girls in the world. They schooled me on all things Barbie, but I still think I did a pretty good job with her make-over. I should also state that it's not a very good idea to try to talk to children after you've had several glasses of wine and start ranting and raving like a lunatic about what makes a good boyfriend. I think from now on I am going to be referred to as the "crazy auntie from Toronto."

The friendly bus drivers. Toronto could learn a thing or two about this. Also: Double decker buses. They really rock.

The abundance of countryside. I might just throw in the towel one day and take residence on a field to raise sheep and horses. Maybe I'll even have an ox. It's truly breathtaking to be surrounded by all the lush green and the fresh country air.

Bath. A really elegant city without any airs of pretentiousness. Preserved beauty with a cosmopolitan flair. And where else can you have violinists playing on the street?

THINGS I WILL MISS ABOUT AMSTERDAM:

The relaxed atmosphere. No one's ever in a rush in Amsterdam, which makes it the perfect place to kick back and relax, especially when you might need a break from a very high-maintenance sister.

Impromptou bar hopping. Bars are ample and the liquor never stops. I get the feeling that public drunkenness is a rite-of-passage in Amsterdam.

The bars. Oops, did I already mention this?

The Red Light District. I won't really miss it, per se, but walking through this infamous district did pique my curiosity more than it should. How does one go about applying for a position here? Who cleans these rooms? Are these prostitutes covered by a quality medical insurance plan? I hope so.

Meeting Günther. Okay, so his name really isn't Günther, but I don't think we had a chance for proper introductions since he was a) drunk; b) stoned; and c) probably crazy. We bumped into him during one of our many frequent bar stops, and he was fabulous. And by "fabulous," I mean hilariously drunk.

Vacationing with friends. Even though Erin and Dwayne live in Toronto and we see each other regularly, there's just something about being in a new city together that really makes you appreciate the friendship. They made the 6:00 AM flight to and from Amsterdam very worthwhile.

THINGS I WON'T MISS ABOUT ENGLAND:

Heathrow Airport. Heathrow Airport is hell on Earth. Getting there 3 1/2 hours before your flight only to find a large line-up for baggage check-in is ridiculous. It also doesn't help when employees are often disgruntled, rude, and ready to scream "terrorist!" at the drop of a hat. I think my experience was also marred by the fact that on the flight to Amsterdam, we were "randomly" searched and x-rayed, and on the flight back to Toronto I had my carry-on withheld, searched, and swabbed for potential explosive residue. I also love the fact that after the contents of my bag were thoroughly examined, including my wallet and digital camera, I was left to scramble and throw everything back in myself, trying to find my dignity along the way. Maybe it's my shifty eyes that make me a target for random searches...but either way, the mass hysteria has got to stop.

Flying with Air Canada. The flight back to Toronto was excrutiating, and the stewards and stewardesses on the plane didn't alleviate the pain of the experience. The airplanes are old, the staff is often condescending and dismissive, and the food sucks. I know the last is a given, but would it hurt to spruce up the menu once in a while? I have grown weary of breakfast omelettes, especially ones that don't even taste like egg. I was also chagrined to hear a very disturbing exchange between two employees, which culminated in one of them muttering, "It's the Asian thing all over again." That's...great. No wonder Air Canada went bankrupt once before.

Customs. I don't ever again want to hear anyone ask me why I am in London, why I'm leaving London, why I'm in Toronto, where I'm coming from, why I chose to wear red today, what souveniers I brought, why I suck at organized sports, or what my favourite breakfast cereal is. In a beautiful dream I had once, I got to reply, "None of your business!" Of course, I know better than to talk back because I realize that spending $1200 on a plane ticket entitles me to take the abuse of hoity customs officers.

Gastrointestinal troubles. I don't know if it was the flight, the airplane food, or a simple twist of fate, but having these sorts of problems while you're in a foreign country really sucks. For the first part of the trip, I was incapacitated with pain and nausea, which led to my visit with a very nice English doctor. He looked severe but was very gentle and mild-mannered, and was kind enough to give me a call the next day to see how I was doing -- which is a heck of a lot more than most guys would do. Ha! That was a joke...sort of. But seriously, I do think a part of me fell in love with him on that fateful wintry day.

The overheated tube. Like a sauna, that tube is. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like during England's heat wave.

Sleeping in airports and airplanes. Because it's very uncomfortable, and I have no idea how Ben does it.

Roundabouts. I am certain that I would never be able to drive in England. And the fact that these often make me car sick would not bode well for my driver's test.

THINGS I WON'T MISS ABOUT AMSTERDAM:

The downtown core. Very tourist-y and kind of dreary. Also: The Anne Frank Museum does not look like anything that I'd imagined, unless Anne lived in a four storey condominium and had a restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows right on her second floor.

The tourist shops. I'm all about the kitsch, but even I have to draw a line at penis-shaped salt & pepper shakers. Seriously, I'd pay to find out who would actually use these in their home.

The tolls for public washrooms. Exuberantly capitalist, if you ask me.

Despite my complaining and simple musings, I'm glad I finally got off my ass and actually went somewhere. The trip was good times, and I wouldn't trade in the experience for the world.

Why will.i.am Sucks: Reason #345

Christine — Thu, 27 Jul 2006 02:57:00 +0000

To recap reason #343:

To recap reason #344:

And now, reason #345:

As some of you may already know, will.i.am has started his own label under A&M/Interscope. His label will be responsible for putting out Fergie's solo effort in the fall, and will.i.am is currently hard at work in the studios with Snoop Dogg, P. Diddy, and Nas. "My ultimate goal is bigger than me putting [a record] out on my label," he said in an interview with Billboard Magazine. "I want to make sure the product is marketed correctly. For records to succeed and impact lifestyle it takes more than just a producer's mind, it takes a person who understands the marketplace and the consumer and a person who is participating in the lifestyle."

Um, okay. So that must explain why one of will.i.am's newest artists is none other than Tila Tequila.

Tila Tequila is, according to numerous sources, the most popular girl on the giant soul-sucking abyss that is MySpace. She has received over 245 million hits on her blog since first joining MySpace, and has been featured on MNSBC, Stuff Magazine, MTV's "TRL," and "Extra!," just to name a few. She's also appeared in Playboy as the "Cyber Girl of the Month," if that helps to explain anything about her popularity. She's a new breed of celebrity -- one that is born in cyberspace and makes you kind of wonder why anyone bothers to work anymore or try to find the cure for cancer.

As Tila (née Tila Nguyen), and anyone who knows her personally or has read her MySpace bio, will tell you, she's had a hard life and turned to alcohol and drugs to ease the pain. After her insane partying days, Tila decided to channel her energy into music. If you take a look at her very well-put-together MySpace page, you'll get a sample of some of her previously recorded singles. Personally, "Fuck Ya Man" grew on me, if only because it's the first song on her MySpace player, and the damn stop and pause buttons are disabled. Nevertheless, it's too soon to tell if Tila's got the singing chops to make it in this fickle business.

But a recent report suggests that she does have the gusto to make it in this cutthroat business after all. From MSN Entertainment: "I was walking to my car and these five f*cking girls drove by in an SUV and shouted, 'Are you a stripper?'" explained Tequila, who was Playboy's first Asian Cyber Girl of the Month and known for her skimpy wardrobe. "I snapped. I chased them down, blocked them with my car, got out, took a glass vase I had with me, and smashed one of the girls with it. This was during rush hour in the middle of the street, so I got out of there fast. I'm not gonna lie, it felt pretty damn good to shut her *ss up." So there isn't much remorse, but where did the anger come from? "There is a rage inside me," said Tequila (no kidding, the girl whose head got smashed would probably agree). "I grew up battling," continued the singer who was raised in a small Buddhist gated community in Houston until she was sent off to boarding school at 16. "I had to protect myself and fight for myself. I had no role models my family was pretty messed up and I had to fend for myself."

You mean, she used to rap in the mean streets of Detroit? Okay, I know what she means by "battling," but the image of Tila going up on stage to rap in a toque with a dread-locked Mekhi Phifer by her side was a better vision than a girl getting beat up with a glass vase by a 5' angry Vietnamese (and 1/4 French) girl. Daaamn. I think Tila's channeling Shannen Doherty, but in a good way, although I think Shannen would advise Tila to leave the cutting for when she's at a club -- pedestrian fights are so beneath her.

If this is what will.i.am means by "understanding the consumer," then we and Tila's 1,000,000+ fans might be on the same page. Although it's a weak attempt at capitalizing on her unrelated cyberspace popularity, it might just work in will.i.am's favour. Or maybe he should be concentrating on artists who have already proven their talents beyond putting a couple of rhymes together (not to knock Tila, but from what she's got on her MySpace, her future songs might need some producing miracles), and making sure that Fergie's next album doesn't include a "Lovely Lady Lumps (My Humps: Part II)," featuring T.I. and Keysha Cole.

I'll leave you with another gem of a quote from will.i.am, who sometimes reminds me of the Cheshire Cat in his whimsical ways of not making sense: "To say I'm just going to make records is limiting the realms of people's imaginations." But...isn't that what producing records is? "I can record in an airplane, I can record backstage in a show, at an airport lobby, in the bullet train going from Yokohama to Tokyo." Oh, okay then.

I Don't Know How to Ride A Bike... (and other ramblings)