I am not a big fan of Dirty Dancing. Sure, Jennifer Grey was one of my “just turned adolescent” fantasies thanks to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I don’t know if it was her “just rolled out of bed” perm, those eternally angry facial expressions that just scream sexiness, or that slick peach trench-coat of a sweater she wore, but it worked for me. Dirty Dancing, on the other hand, turned Jennifer Grey into an oblivious upper-middle class princess that looked closer to 9 than 19. Add that to the fact that this was a dancing movie, and I wasn’t much of a dancer. Ever.
It’s 2012 already, and the big topic in the UK is the forthcoming Olympic Games. Britain won the right to host the event by being the only country stupid enough to apply for it in the middle of a global economic meltdown, and already the games are running massively over budget, mainly due to the fact that the Government Minister in charge of the event somehow forgot to factor our 20% sales tax into the equation.
Last year, we ended Halloween with a woulda/shoulda article on Halloween costumes we didn’t see instead of going out and dressing ourselves up in those costumes. This is what happens when reality goes “meme”: inside jokes that you never really thought about go viral, and then everyone is walking around with a miner’s helmet. This year, we’re being pro-active in our approach to Halloween by telling you all what the top costumes of the season will be (for the apathetic and sarcastic). At least, these are the costumes we hope to see.
I don’t like the idea of a new Spiderman. That’s right, I said it. I don’t want to see a new Spiderman. Is this racist because the new up-and-coming hero of Marvel’s Ultimate Spiderman is a half black, half hispanic teenager named Miles Morales? Some people believe so, but just because Glenn Beck opens his fat mouth and retardation seems to fall out doesn’t mean that all comic book fans opposed to a new Spiderman are racist. Racism is born from ignorance, and the ignorant can barely read.
I have to admit, I am not a regular strip club visitor. If I think back really hard, I may need both hands to count out the amount of times I’ve found myself in one. What I do have is the experience of a wide spectrum of “gentlemen’s clubs”. Full nudity shack where you have to bring your own alcohol and the girls strangle guys who get too close to their cootch? Thank you, fraternity rush week. Place where everyone is Russian and they play techno or 80s pop? Check. Skeevy dive that I had to drag out to guests from a house party because I got a call from the bouncer? Of course.
It seems that the kids here in the UK have a drinking problem: they’re pouring alcohol into their eyes. This activity, known as ‘Vodka eyeballing’ is fast becoming a firm favorite with the British student population, who believe that the alcohol will be absorbed directly into the blood-stream, leading to a much faster hit than the traditional ‘down the throat’ method.
As the year 2011 becomes a reality for all of us (apart from the USA which insists on 1120, for still unexplained reason- what is it with you guys and your crazy dating scheme), I don’t mind telling you that I’m worried. That’s because I’m a European and I’m innocent of all crimes committed on American shores.
I’m watching this interesting show on the History Channel (yes, I’m a nerd) called “The President’s Book of Secrets”. It caught my attention because I remember the mention of a book of secrets from the movie “National Treasure” (yes, I have poor taste in movies.) Anyway, I figured the show was worth a few minutes during channel flipping.
The New York City Horror Film Festival is another breed of festival, because instead of being stuck in a room of producers and maybe a stunt-man from the movie you’ve watched, you are in a room of artists, with maybe one suit flying around to make sure people are using coasters for their drinks. I went one night, for the screening of the original A Nightmare on Elm Street. Here is the play by play of that night.
The only regrets Halloween ever brings are “I wish I didn’t eat all the left-over candy” and “Why did so many people have to dress as Chewbacca this year?” It’s a pretty good regret ratio, unless you hate Halloween, which means you regret the whole holiday.
But I do have another regret. Actually, I have a couple of regrets, but they all fall under one category: costumes I wish I saw, but didn’t. So here they are, in no particular order.