Burlesque than what I Seeque

Hey, kids!  Well, I am on a blog-role lately, aren't I?  No one's complained yet so here I again:

I don't get, and never have gotten, the appeal of the Pussycat Dolls.

First of all, the name.  It's a singular noun, followed immediately by a plural noun.  That can't be right.

But mostly, I don't understand burlesque in any way, shape, or form.  Here's what I'd be thinking if I happened to stumble into a show:

"Oh, wow.  That girl's hot."

"Oh hey!  She's dancing around, girating and whatnot.  Nice!"

"Ooh, she's taking off her clothes.  Naughty-naughty."

"Hey wait!  She stopped taking off her clothes?!  Aww, and she was just getting to the best part!"

"Ha-rumph!"

See?  Complete dissatisfaction.  I mean, last I checked, you could go to any town in America, hell, the world, and see a full-on strip show.  A lot of places you can see some really freaky shit too but I'm a simple man with simple tastes.

So again, I'm not getting the point of a show that only goes part of the way.  It's like going to a buffet that only serves one course.  Or a movie that only shows the trailers.  I don't get it.  Why in a world where you can get everything, would you choose to be tantalized, get essentially nothing, and like it?

It's like the internet in a way.  EVERYTHING is on here.  ANYTHING you could ever want or imagine is ALL a click away.  And yet, you choose to activate a parental blocker, and you don't even have kids!

Another example I would offer happened after I watched The Fantastic Four on HBO one night.  It was so awful, I felt compelled to write a bulletin extolling my distaste for that celluloid catastrophy.  And a friend from high school replied to it and said, "But, dude, Jessica Alba's is in her underwear, man!"

To which I was like, "I'm on the INTERNET!  I can do so much better than that in, say, 2-keystrokes."  You've got to be kidding me.  And this coming from my peer, from the generation of extreme sports and THE INTERNET.  And yet I'm supposed to be pacified with Jalba (a nice, easy abbreviation) in her skivvies?!

So I'm wondering if burlesque is maybe some sort of anti-porn.  To which I say, "Fuck you!  Porn's great, sometimes." 

Is it supposed to be artsy?  'Cause seriously, it's just a chick sloshing around in a giant martini glass.

And in a way, isn't it just "dumbing-down" and making stripping more acceptable to the populace (hehe, it has the word "lace" in it)?  'Cause isn't that a "bad thing?"  I really don't have an answer to that 'cause I likes the female nudity.

Being that I was an avid supporter of all things Carmen Electra, I ask these questions.  And the last thing I want to be doing at a strip-show is scratching my head.

Ponder that shit, kids!  :-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

So Not Laughing

Hey, kids!  So I just got done watching my good buddy Zach Braff host SNL and I must say that that show really blows hardcore, like to mooseball proportions. 

I'm not kidding.  I've seen better writing on a bathroom stall.

It's sad really.  I remember the good old days when you could be home on a Saturday night and catch some pretty good comedy.  It's not that way anymore.  Hasn't been for a long time.

Fred Armisen is the only funny cast member and he's not in every sketch.  So for 5-minutes at a time, you might have to sit and listen to the dude fromGoodburger jabber on while desperately seeking the means to a quick and painless demise on your own couch.  Sure, you could just change the channel but hanging yourself from a ceiling fan seems much more appealing for some odd reason.  It's horrendous.

And what the fuck is Darrell Hammond still doing around?!  What are you like, 50?!  What characters do you do again?  Bill Clinton, Sean Connery, Jesse Jackson?  Way to stay modern man...

In the name of all that is decent, NBC, please don't renew this show.  For the good of your network, and for the good of good comedy.

I have spoken my peace.  :-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

Ain't No Party Like A TFM Party

Hey, kids!  It feels like I'm always apologizing for the sporadicness of my blogs, so I'm not going to apologize this time.  You'll get my blogs when I give 'em to you and you'll like it!

That being said, obviously it's been tough-times since my last post and some time was needed for me to work through that.  On top of it all, I just haven't had all that much to say (I probably say that a lot as well, sweet irony).  But I had an eventful night and here are some highlights:

I got off my lazy ass and went down to SDSU for the TFM Film Festival.  When I got there, there were TONS of people.  And thusly, they ran out of food and drinks at the precise moment that I reached the front of the line.  Who knew?!

I should also mention that they ran out of programs, which I really like to have when I write a blog like this or for general nostalgia's-sake.  Needless to say, that was a bummer.

A lot of people I knew were there, mixed in with a seemingly greater number of people I'd never seen before.  Omar (Jim) was there and I contend that because of the sheer number of times we've run into each other lately, he is stalking me or vice-versa.  Erik the Clay-Bo was there, talking sound stuff as if he was the only man left on Earth that still had ears.  I think that's a compliment but whatever.  Jamie was there as well.  It was very much a meeting of the "It's been too long since I've seen you" club on all counts.

The biggest reception I got was from Rose.  I have never seen such enthusiasm for me before and I hardly imagine I'll see it again.  But such is Aaron...

Anyway, so I sit next to Rose ('cause I like being welcomed) and the festival starts off with some awards-giving.  I must be honest and say that I had hoped to hear my name called for something but alas, nothing.  In fact, nobody from last semester's group got anything and I think that's a real shame.  It's not like there aren't people who deserved awards, it's just a stupid timing thing that the department heads don't get.  Not everybody who deserves to recognized graduates in the spring!  It's SDSU!  You're lucky to ever graduate, in a timely fashion, with registration being what it is.  I think that this is a big dropped-ball that I hope gets changed for the sake of future students.  Then starts the movies...

I must say it started off rather slowly.  I had heard many rumblings (and grumblings) about what films didn't get in, so it was a shock to me to see the kind of films that led off the festival.  It wasn't till maybe halfway through that things really started to pick up.

Now I can't recall everything I saw, so no one should be offended by a non-mention (although, I won't mention the films I didn't like, I'm just respectful like that).  Okay, now that I think of it, I can't recall much of anything.  I know that Alyssa's film, I. Hero, was pretty well done.  Everything John Kaiser and Trevor Fernando touch, as directors, is gold.  Angel and Colby (whom I call Colbert, 'cause I really like the idea that Colby is an abbreviation) both did masterful jobs as DPs (hehe, DPs).  Nick and Jesse's latest project, The Apparatus, was their finest to date.  There was also a film that Angel shot that had, Dan Feraldo the priest from my film, Good Lord, in it.  That was very nice to see.  Bicycle Lovewas really funny.  The Letter (I think it was called???), starring Ted Reis, who I worked with on Sean's film, Digits, was hilarious.  And finally, the festival ended with like a Tim Burton-style parody of the TFM dept. by Humberto Garcia.  It had a Greg Durbin parody and a great GP impersonation!

All in all, I would say that the festival was a good one, though I feel like room could've been made for some of the films that got left out.  I mean, come on, no Todd Smith films?!  Anyhoo...

Then came the everlovin' after party, again hosted by Drew Dorsey.  Wow, a lotta drinkin' went on.  I had 2 bottles (glass bottles, from Mexico apparently) of Coca Cola.  Man, I was wasted.  Pretty much everyone from the festival was there and so I got to have many conversations with people I otherwise might not have or to this point hadn't.  And that was really the great part about the whole night.  I met and re-met a lot of great folks that reaffirm that SDSU can be a fine place to make some movies.  Also, being at a Denny's till 5am never hurts.

Next up: Graduation!  Till then, kids.  :-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

Good Girl, Mish

Mishu (1991-2007)

Bye-bye, Bear.

Rock-'Git!

Hey, kids!  Sorry about the lack of bloggage lately.  I've been pretty busy with 2 different film shoots and so I haven't had a ton of free time to get out my thoughts.  As I type, I'm awaiting the arrival of my parents from their aforeblogged Carribean cruise.  There's an anticipation in the air.  The doggies can feel it.  Can I just mention here that coming home from a 14-hour shoot, on 3 and half hours sleep, to find that one of the dogs peed on your bed is more than just a little infuriating?!  Sometimes, woman, you make me so mad...

Anyhoo, the real reason I'm feeling the need to write is because of recent sports news.  Roger Clemens has "finally decided" to come back and play for the Yankees again.  Now here's the part that really bothers me:

28 MILLION DOLLARS!!!  FOR ONE FUCKING YEAR!!!  HE WON'T EVEN PITCH TILL LATE MAY!!!

What the fuck, kids?!  This Roger Clemens retire-comeback-get paid ridiculo- game is really wrong and it's ruining baseball.  Retire your old Texan ass and STAY AWAY!  Or don't retire!  Not both!

He's turning the sport that I love into a ludacris sweepstakes of money and hired-gunnery.  What ever happened to being on a team?  You know, for thewhole year?  Spring training, road trips, etc.  Clemens doesn't even have to hang out with the team if he doesn't want to.  He can fly home to Houston on non-pitching days.  No sitting around in the dugout and cheering on his "brothers" on a nightly basis.

Now I'm not question his skills in the slightest.  He is one of the best pitchers of all-time.  No question.  And at 45 years old, he is still a force.  I'll try to ignore the fact that he puts Icy-Hot on his balls on gameday so he doesn't get comfortable.  I really wish I hadn't heard that a few weeks ago.

And the money... Well, god love the money.  Is it too much to pay anyone, for anything?  Yes.  But if someone's stupid enough, take it.

My problem lies in the fact that, beyond not having to be a team player, the Yankees didn't have to do any actual work to put together a team.  Brian Cashman, their GM, should be commended for signing Clemens and then immediately fired for putting together a pitching staff so full of holes that they would need to call in a 45 year old man.  And Clemens isn't bulletproof.  He's battled hamstring problems in the last 2 years.  I'm not saying that they should've spent more, they should at least have to be smart.  As far as I'm concerned, they shouldn't be shocked by any of the injuries they've sustained as a staff.  Their Opening Day starter hadn't pitched 10 games in 2 years!

It's bullshit that any team should have the option of waving phat-green at a guy on the sidelines because they fucked up.  Nobody else had a shot.  Nobody.

I do think Clemens needs to let go.  He's got nothing to prove.  He says he wants to watch his kids grow up and play.  Do that, man.  You've earned it already.  Think of all the people who can't do that.  They've gotta work in a factory, they can't retire until 65, and can't get a day off to see their kid play.  It's just bonkers.

That's my opinion.  What'chu'got?!  :-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

Bon Voyage

Hey, kids!  I just dropped my parents off at the airport as they are headed to Florida to start their Carribean cruise.  They'll be gone for 10 days, which I'm sure the doggies are going to love.  Though early by a few months, this cruise marks my parents 35 years together.  35 years... Wow.

Anyhoo, I hope they have fun and are safe and I love them.  The End.

Robert Downer Jr.

Hey, kids.  I'm feeling pretty blah today.  I don't know why.  I figure it must be a combination of things.  My sleep has been weird the past few days.  I've slept plenty of hours.  I'm not an insomniac again or anything.  I just haven't been sleeping well, I guess.  I've been tossing and turning and waking up and half-waking up and when I actually wake up, I feel pretty tired and awful.

If I have something that I absolutely have to do, I can get it going.  But I still feel kinda shitty around all of it.

I think maybe it's because I can feel things closing around me.  Not literally because believe me I'd move away from falling objects.  It's more like, graduation is coming up and I don't feel like I've done anything since I actually took my last class.  And I've got this deadline in my head, June 1st, where I think I've got to move to L.A. by then or I've already failed.  And then I'm scared of when I get there and if things will happen for me.  I know how I am, I can't be that way up there.

I can't waste the time that I do down here.  I'll need to make money to afford all the stuff you guys all have to already.  I have to get off my ass, daily, motherfucker.  And then it's like, "Oh shit.  Is the film business gonna start to feel like a job?  Am I gonna hate it because it's gonna be so demanding?"  I don't know the answers.  I'd like to say no.  But if I'm not doing what I want to do, I don't know if I'll have the patience and the willpower to do some shitty things.  This isn't gonna be a hobby anymore.  Wow, that sucks. 

A new place, a new way of living, a (or a series of) new job(s).  It's scary.  All 3 things at once too.  But I can't stay here in San Diego.  The work just isn't here.  It might be bigger in 5 or 10 years but I can't fathom the thought of getting a 9 to 5 and waiting it out, while making movies on the weekends. 

I just used to look up there with so much hope but sometimes, like tonight, I just can't see it.  It's gotta just be the fear of the unknown and the anxiety and the nerves are normal.  But sometimes I feel so much worse because I don't think I am the go-getter, the bread winner, the guy who makes his own breaks, and keeps moving forward in a positive way.

I mean, every job I've ever had I've kept at a distance.  I definitely made some great friends but the job itself has never meant anything.  Here's a brief list:

Phone Surveys (3 months): Just needed to pay off a ring I bought my high school girlfriend (stupid fuck, her and me).  Got out of there first excuse I could think of.

Staff Pro (2 years): At first it was, "I get to watch concerts!"  After a while, I hated doing concerts, so I didn't.  A lot of people really suck.  Go to any concert, you'll see.  Then it was conventions.  Mostly boring, luckily just on the weekends.  Pay was pretty low.

The Convention Center (3 years, 4 months): At first I thought that the hours and the pay was better, and they were.  I had to pay off my car too.  More office political bullshit, boring posts, exposure to bad weather.  But it was only on the weekends.  Paid off my car.  Then came my film classes.  Had to cut down my hours.  Didn't make any money, well, hardly any.  The last year or so, I hated being there, everyday I went in.  And I wasn't particularly shy about that.  Then I graduated and quit the next day.

See, so I worry about things getting like that.  I know that film is supposed to bemy field and whatnot but will it wear me down and get corrupted like everything else?  I hope not.  I don't have any assurance that it won't.  I'm probably just rambling at this point so feel free to tune out.

I just hope that when I get to L.A. that things will make sense, that I will see a path to the top.  Because right now all I see are dreams and figments of things I want to believe are possible, and all the odds that tell me how hard it is.  And I'm doubting my ability to fight because sometimes I don't feel like I want it enough or as much as the people I see doing so much more.  Maybe I'll just get lucky.  I have in the past.  Maybe things will just magically work.  It's possible.

And then there's my love life...

Oh fuck, I'm not getting into that.

This one's been kind of a downer, kids.  I would apologize but I won't.  This is where I'm at, today, right now.  Blah...

Der Stuff

Hey, kids!  Last night I saw Grindhouse by Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino so I'm gonna tell you what I thought about it and some other stuff.

First of all, let me say that I LOVED the fake movie trailers that both preceed and fell between the 2 films.  The trailer for Thanksgiving can be found in my comments.  Each of them would make entertaining films of absurd and satiric content.

That being said, I would've rather watched any of those films than "Planet Terror" (Rodriguez) and "Death Proof" (Tarantino).

I am a fan of both directors.  I liked almost everything Rodriguez has ever done (exceptions being the Spy Kids movies and Once Upon A Time In Mexico) and I've loved every Tarantino film.  So this only added to my disappointment.

Now I know that these to movies are supposed to be bad, a la 70's-B exploitation films.  And all the scenes you've seen in the trailers for Grindhousevery much live up to that wacky slapstick violence and punchline dialogue.  The problem is in everything else.  I feel like things are very well setup by the filmmakers but they aren't followed through.  The amount of dialogue also felt indulgent rather than satirical or ironic, which is how I expected to feel about it all.  There were definitely moments where I went, "YES!" with glee but those moments were often followed by minutes and minutes of "Get on with it!"

There were moments in both films where I was like, "Shut the fuck up and do something!"  Seriously, shut the fuck up.  I never thought I'd say that, especially during a Tarantino film.  I know that B movies are supposed to be bad but these two directors are so much better that I didn't figure they'd put form above content.  In other words, I expected them to make great B movies, and not movies that are just as shitty as they were back then.

In "Planet Terror," you've got zombies and they're killing people and people are killing them.  That's cool.  I'm down with that.  But there were too many moments where the characters were just going places and not getting things done (i.e. discovering the cause of the zombies, or figuring out how to kill them).  When those moments came, the content was good.  But far too much time was wasted.  It didn't help that there was about 10 minutes where the sound went out in the theater.  I couldn't tell at first if that was part of the show.  But I don't think we missed anything that would've corrected any of these issues.

In "Death Proof," Tarantino spends about an hour setting up a confrontation between these 3 chicks and Kurt Russell's character, making the audience wonder, "Who is this guy" and then "Why is he doing this?"  Then all of a sudden the movie becomes about these 4 other chicks and Kurt Russell becomes very much secondary (or fifthdary?).  And we never get the answers to the previous questions, that are set up pretty fucking well.  And the dialogue between all of these chicks is hardly worthy of Tarantino, again because he could've made agreat B movie out of this.  After all the set up, I don't give a shit about anybody but Kurt Russell!  Hello?!

And then the missing reels... Uuugh.  I read on IMDB that films of the grindhouse era didn't actually have missing reels so RR and QT put them in (or took them out, whatever) for their own indulgent reasons.  It really was a bit more frustrating than anything, as I'm sure it would be if it really happened during a real film.  They cut out scenes that would be visually satisfying and had plot implications to boot.  Argh.

And that's all I have to say about that.

In other news, have you seen this Major League Direct TV ad with Charlie Sheen?  It kills me.  Kills me like death, suicide, stab in the gut bad.  If you're paying attention, which Direct TV hopes you are not, Charlie (as Rick Vaughn) throws his first pitch ("Juuuuuuuuuuuuust a bit outside...") to a left-handed batter, number 39.  Then they cut to the Charlie of today, plus the horrible wrinkle-removal effect.  Then they cut back to what should be the same at-bat and Viola!  The batter is now right-handed and wearing number 48.  It fucking disturbs me. 

All of this could've been corrected digitally.  They should have flipped the first batter and changed his number.  Then the only sign that something is amiss is the catcher's glove hand.  But no, they're dumbshits and that's inexcusable.

Finally, I hate basketball coaches.  I find something very wrong with men in suits, yelling at people, be they players or referees.  It's also ridiculous because they are constantly yelling, all game.  What the fuck are you yelling about?!  Is this a Little League game and one of the players is your kid?!  Shut the fuck up.  It's only made worse with female basketball coaches.  I've got no problem with women athletes, nor women coaches, refs, etc. but that shit is horrendous looking.  Basketball should be played without coaches, or coaches should wear uniforms or sweatshirts or something.  Otherwise, they just look like grumpy-ass old people.

That's it.  Good-bye!   :-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

That's it. I have had it.

Hey, kids.  Just wanted to let you all know that I've made some tough choices about my life and they are as follows:

-I'm quitting the movies.   Yes, technically, I haven't really started but I realized that I suck and I should probably die instead.

-I decided that I wasn't cool with dying yet, so I looked for other things I can do.

-I'm going to join the circus!  I saw an ad on Craig's List (and you guys know how I love the CL) and there was an opening for a juggling, high-wire artist.  I answered and they called back and they want me to start immediately.

-Apparently, they also would like me to try it blindfolded.  I wasn't prepared for this and I had to decline.

-I went back on the CL and saw an ad for a latin male dancer.  I called the number and they wanted me to start immediately.  However, at the end of the call, they asked for my last name and when they heard it, they hung up.  I assume that means I'm fired.

-I went back on CL and answered an ad by a BBW who's into S&M seeking an SBM.  Since I'm not good with acronyms, I called the number.  I got more details and immediately hung up.  My phone rang 2 seconds later, I answered and again hung up.  She's pushy.

-Then my phone rang again and I thought it was the same as the previous call.  But it wasn't.  It was a telemarketer.  After buying everything he was selling, I asked if they had any openings.  He said they did and then he put me through to his manager.  His manager answered and offered me his [the manager's] job.  I accepted and then I heard what sounded like a window opening and then a scream that faded away as the phone hit the floor.

-I figured that that was probably a bad sign so I decided not to go there.  I looked up and there was a pop-up ad for mail-order-husbands in Cambodia.  I clicked on it and it turned out that it was fake.  It was really a website for mail-order-husbands in Turkmenistan.  Still intrigued, I kept clicking ahead.  The pay was actually pretty reasonable (4 dollars a day plus chickens) and from what I could see of the women's eyes, I could quite possibly (fingers crossed) end up with a Grade-D+ hottie for a wife!

-I was also able to secure a job as a goat wrestler's apprentice.  Hopefully, that will lead to a lucrative career.

-So, to make a long story short, I ship off tomorrow.  From all accounts Manoush, my bride, has a lovely personality.  I'm not sure if they have computers there, let alone the internet, MySpace, cell phones, cheeseburgers, towels, healthcare, Television, or sanitary drinking water.  But if they do, I'll let you all know how it's going. 

Take Care.  

Be good. 

Namaste.

-Aaron

Thar She Blows!

Hey, kids!  So in an effort to show that weathermen don't know shit about fuck, Mother Nature decided to throw a wicked curveball at my modest San Diego home.

See, the weather "forecasters" all predicted rain for today.

What did we get?

WIND.  Strong motherfuckin' WIND.

This shit is no joke.  It's not a hurricane (Denzel's not here), it's not a tropical depression (I mean, have you ever really seen an unhappy Jamaican?), and it's not the perfect storm ('cause I would have fallen asleep already).

But it's pretty fuckin' strong WIND.  So strong that it took the umbrella to our table in the backyard and dropped it 6 feet away.  Luckily, it didn't land in the pool but the damage is worse.  Not only did the wind pick up the umbrella, it did a fair amount of bending along the way thus breaking the glass table that had surrounded it and the glass candle holders that were sitting on said table.  It's a horrible mess.

Though I had planned to get up and do stuff today, it's pretty good that I hadn't thus far, otherwise this WIND meets glass cage match would have happened and the dogs would've been free to roam and frolic on shattered glass.

Like I always say, "We'll never be New Orleans," but usually when I say that it's in reference to the 2am last call.  Will our weather ever be truly bad in San Diego?  Probably not. 

But don't ask my backyard table.  She might still be a little sore on that subject.

:-P  Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!