I Pretend to Be Intelligent By Reviewing Some Oscar Winners.
February 27, 2008First things first, let’s make one thing clear:
That’s Daniel Day-Lewis. And Daniel Day-Lewis was THE FIRE in this movie. I mean man, the guy was just incendiary. (Add a third sentence referencing his acting and flames and such.) And he sounded exactly how a mustachioed oil man from the 1900s should sound like. Believe me, I know from experience. I was just waiting for that mustache of his to stretch out its robot mustache legs, reveal itself to be a robot mustache creature from the future, and fly off his face. It’s like it had a life of its own. But I swear, the name Daniel Plainview will be etched into my memory until the day I die. And so will the words: "I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE! I DRINK IT UP!"
I’m serious. It was that good.
So the Best Actor win was well-deserved, but I was surprised to find out that Paul Dano wasn’t nominated for his performance as Eli Sunday. Normally, I’d also feel peeved about certain aspects of a film, whether they be the run times, the anachronisms, or plot holes among other things, but I finished the movie and had absolutely no complaints. I feel that this should have won over No Country For Old Men for Best Picture. Which brings me to:
Don’t get me wrong, I really liked this one too. It had "Holy intensicles!" written all over it. But There Will Be Blood eked out the moral victory in my humble opinion, courtesy of Mr. Plainview and his mustache. But Javier Bardem and his snazzy ‘do, given more screen time, could have given Day-Lewis a run for his money. Oh and once again, first things first:
That’s Bardem as Anton Chigurh, another name that will forever be carved in memory as one of the most badass villains of all time. Next to Darth Vader, Saruman the White, and Sinbad in Good Burger, of course. Josh Brolin was fantastic (I even read that he sought help from Rodriguez and Tarantino to audition for this film), and the Coens did an amazing job of setting a unique pace for the film. There were some unexpected LOL-worthy moments too. Just watch out for a mariachi band, and the uttering of the word "FRIEND-O." I’ll start calling everyone FRIEND-O from now on, if that’s okay with you guys.
I know, I’ve written about this film before. Sure, parts of it I wrote as a goof, but that doesn’t discount my opinion that the movie didn’t deserve the acclaim it was getting.
But with Diablo Cody winning the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, I felt like giving Juno a second chance. I may have missed something, difficult as it (and by "it" I mean "missing something in a 90-minute movie written by a former stripper") may seem. So I press "Play," fast forward through the gratuitous fancy schmancy opening credits, and eventually give up at the part where the burger phone makes an appearance, which I think is 8 minutes into the film.
So I haven’t seen the rest of the nominees for Best Original Screenplay, but come on, there has to be at least one that was written better and simply didn’t garner enough interest to earn votes, because there was this stripper-turned-writer who was strippering up all the attention, who wrote this strippery movie about some pregnant kid, presumably with her stripper pen and stripper pad, maybe even typed it into her personal compu-stripper, somewhere in her stripper home on Valle del Stripper-o.
Which, by the way, is down by Stripper River.
Don’t worry, it’s okay to allude to her former strippering ways; after all, she did meticulously chronicle it on her blog (unstripperily called "The Pussy Ranch") and even wrote a book about it. And she kinda, sorta mentions it every time she opens her strippery mouth. I know how to use Wikipedia! Yay!
TMB MotherfuCARZ: Fernando: Autopimp 5000.
February 25, 2008In honor of the release of the new Knight Rider, we here at TMB decided to come up with a blog series highlighting our own vehicles. Though we’ve always idolized Michael Knight’s K.I.T.T. from the original series, we were kind of offended that NBC looked over our automobiles while casting a new car for the show’s rebirth.
Dejected, we all individually sat down with our cars, handed them a personalized questionnaire, and spoke to them about a variety of topics ranging from current events to, uh, not-so-current events. First up is my very own Fernando: Autopimp 5000.
Name: Fernando: Autopimp 5000
Owner: Coco Collantes
Make/Model: 2005 Mitsubishi Lancer 1.6 GLS A/T OMGWTF
Paint Job: Sedona Red
Favorite Pastimes: Hanging out in the garage, Moving along roads, Moving backwards sometimes, Tennis
Favorite Line from 2 Fast 2 Furious: (Tyrese) Come on, man. Guns, murderers and crooked cops? I was made for this shit, brah!
Coco: So under “Acceleration,” you wrote down “I can go from Zero to ASSHOLE in 4.36 seconds.” Would you mind telling our readers what you meant by that?
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: (Activates super-futuristic stopwatch) 0… 1… 2… 2.68… 3.49… 4.36 SUCK ON MY GIANT BLACK MUFFLER COCO
Coco: ……
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: I kid, man. You know I love you.
Coco: OH YOU LITTLE RASCAL YOU! Power hug?
Coco: What would you say are your best assets?
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: My scent, most definitely. All your hot dates who’ve ridden me (chuckles) can attest to that. For those of you who don’t know, I smell like blood and semen, with hints of green apple and pizza. I rule at setting the mood for romance. Also, I’m really proud of my name. I never really had a chance to thank you for christening me with a kickass name. Thanks man.
Coco: You’re welcome. You probably don’t remember this but you started out as simply “Fernando.” I just added “Autopimp 5000” later on. We sure did one over K.I.T.T.!
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: Did him one over? You mean, we did that sumbish three millennia over! AM I RIGHT AM I RIGHT?! Power hug?
Coco: HAHAHA! HA! Ha… (Wipes tear) Dude, no one probably got that.
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: Okay, for the morons reading this, K.I.T.T. actually stands for Knight Industries Two Thousand. But since I’m Fernando: Autopimp 5000, that means I own him by three millennia; “Willennia,” for all you Big Willie Stylers out there. (Activates super-futuristic stereo)
(But you’ll have to hit “Play” below for it to work. Sorry.)
Coco: Share with us your worst experience.
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: 2007 was a particularly bad year for me. I got sideswiped by a tricycle in Pasay, I got a flat tire along Taft, my side mirrors were stolen in Makati, and we got ticketed for “blocking” that fucking invisible pedestrian lane on the corner of Makati Ave. and Paseo, remember? Oh, and lest I forget:
Coco: Yeah, that was pretty bad. But you’re all fixed up now and good as new.
One last question, Team Obama or Team Clinton?
Fernando: Autopimp 5000: Shoe.
Coco: Good man.
Coco Likes Having Enemies: The Official Two-Step Guide to Twittering for the Twitter Noob.
February 19, 2008I know I’m a year late, but with everyone and their Mom having a Twitter account by now, I just had to see what the fuss was all about. So I recently signed up for the servi—JESUS TAPDANCING CHRIST CHEWBACCA IS ON TWITTER.
That’s it, I am officially in love with Twitter.
My first couple of days on Twitter were fine and dandy; I received twits which concerned hooker parties and a video of a Japanese man peeling a banana with his ass, among other things. I, on the other hand, posted updates regarding Mikey’s version of Bim’s Glee Face (this seriously needs a Wikipedia page), and the song “Sweet Baby” by George Duke and Stanley Clarke being stuck in my head.
I mean, come on.
Anyway. Like I said, fine and dandy. Until I decided to express my enthusiasm towards a profile update on blink-182’s Myspace page by twitting about it. The Myspace thing eventually turned out to be nothing, but the prospect of a reunion of my all-time, most favorite band pretty much got me the most ginormous amount of jollies in all of jolly-getting history. I would seriously, seriously crap my pants if that ever happened. But lo, mere minutes after I posted the above-mentioned twit, my good chum Fritz broadcasted the following reply:
And that got me thinking: What other rules should a Twitter-noob like me abide by? Instead of simply asking Fritz or any other Twitter veteran for advice, I chose to do some online sleuthing and took note of significant patterns in the many updates I received from February 13 to February 18, 2008. I also crept under a few Twitter users’ desks for observatory peeps at their Twittering behavior. And their vaginas.
So, what was once unwritten law is now… written law (?). Without further ado, here be “The Official Two-Step Guide to Twittering for the Twitter Noob.”
1. Never, ever twit about blink-182.
Exhibit 1a.
Duh. That was pretty obvious.
And 2. Twit In A Manner Which Makes You Seem Like THE SMARTEST PERSON ALIVE. Like so:
Exhibit 2a.
Beacause, really. Nothing makes you sound more like a bona fide genius than typing in that approach. REALLY.
Here’s another example of proper Twittering:
Exhibit 2b.
Upon initial perusal, it doesn’t appear to be a far cry from its inbred cousin, the Textese or Text Speak. Observe:
Exhibit 2c.
But look closely. Exhibit 2c seems to be just about the dumbest thing you’ve ever read, right? Whereas Exhibit 2b doesn’t sound retarded AT ALL. REALLY.
BECAUSE TALKING LIKE A DYSLEXIC FOUR YEAR-OLD ISN’T THE LEAST BIT ANNOYING. TRUST ME. IT’S NOT. AND EVERYONE ELSE IS DOING IT. WHICH MAKES IT MUCH MORE FUN. HEARING THAT SHIT ALL DAY. IT’S THE BEST. I ACTUALLY ENJOYED READING A BAJILLION VARIATIONS OF PEOPLE SAYING THAT THEY’RE ABOUT TO EAT A SANDWICH, ALL OF WHICH STARTED WITH “IZ” AND ENDED WITH “NAO.” THE ONLY DIFFERENCE WAS WHAT LIED IN THE MIDDLE. AND REPLACING THE LETTER "Y" WITH "EH?" AS IN "YUMMEH," "PARTEH," ETC.? FUCKING HILARIOUS. I SWEAR TO GOD. I MEAN, YOU’D THINK THAT THERE’S SO LITTLE TO WORK WITH BUT THESE PEOPLE MANAGE TO PULL IT OFF, FOR SOME GOD-FORSAKEN REASON. BUT IT’S OKAY BECAUSE IT NEVER GETS ANNOYING. REALLY. IT DOESN’T.
That being said, O HAI ADD ME UP AT HTTP://TWITTER.COM/COCO_COLLANTES. NO GAYS PLZ.
Hell Freezes Over: Coco Has A Twitter. Account. Had to Leave That Last Word Out So I Could Make A Rhyme. Oh, and I Got Tagged By Papu. My, This Is A Long-Ass Title.
February 12, 2008Add me up, you sonsofbitches.
Anyway, I’ve nothing better to do than sit around and wait for calls from potential employers, so I kinda bit on this meme that Papu tagged me with. It’s a stupid 20 Questions for 2008 type of thing. Proceed at your own risk. I’m not tagging anyone, by the way. I ride alone! Yep, that didn’t make any sense to me as well.
I Dunno. Shit and Shit?
February 11, 2008I really appreciate the fact that people don’t question the way I handle certain things. It makes me think that they actually respect my decisions and recognize that somewhere in this noggin of mine are sound reasoning and common sense. It’s either that, or they just don’t bother asking. Which is also a good thing because I really like being left the fuck alone sometimes.
But to once again quote Mr. Hoppus, "my mouth is filled with blood from trying not to speak." Now, I know that there’s a question you’ve all been meaning to ask, and I’d be more than happy to finally clear the air for all our sakes.
Why do I keep on wearing the same pair of rotten jeans everytime I go out, you ask?
Well it’s because they’re the only pair I own which effectively (and comfortably) conceal my leg sores, silly!
LEG SORES.
By the way, meth is not a toy. Make sure to tell your children that they damage nerve endings which cause uncontrollable itching. These lead to constant scratching which subsequently result in the above-shown, fantabulous sores.
On a completely related note, TNA and Midway have released new screenshots of the iMPACT! game which comes out on all major platforms later this year. And HOLY SHIT.
Kurt Angle, "The Monster" Abyss, and "The Instant Classic" Christian Cage.
Get a job. Get a Wii. Get the game. Get myself a juicebox.
Get a job. Get a Wii. Get the game. Get myself a juicebox.
Get a job. Get a Wii. Get the game. Get myself a juicebox.
And if I won’t have a Wii by then, I can always yoink my little brother’s PS2 from right under his stupid, little brothery nose! And I won’t hear a peep from his stupid, little brothery mouth! Because I’m older! And stronger! HAH!
Nope, he’s actually only a year younger and can easily hand me pieces of my ass contained in individual (and distinctively-colored) petri dishes. Even the guy courting my little sister looks like he could kill me with one bare hand. Dude’s 17 and he’s got a full-on beard, what the fuck.
It sucks being frail and weak. But at least I have the POWER OF KNOWLEDGE! Am I right, ladies?
Once again kids, meth is not a toy.
