That’s right ladies, Spanx for men. V-neck compression tees keeping pot tits and silver dollar man-nipples wrangled. Dreams DO come true.
Buried - Ryan Reynolds all sweaty locked in a box sounded like a good idea for a movie. I knew I was taking a risk going to see it but figured that as long as there was room for him to squirm around he’d most likely be taking his shirt off, getting the fuck out of that box and kicking some ass. What I wanted was this and what I got was just a bunch of this and this. Literally. Not to be a dick and spoil this movie for you but NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENS. It’s and hour and a half of Ryan Reynolds wearing a shirt, crying, making phone calls, leaving pointless voice mails and generally not doing anything proactive to get out of the box. I was elated when he was finally crushed by dirt and the end credits rolled.
“OMG that’s longer than I’ve been alive” - The smug gay teenager at Target when I told him I’ve had my nose pierced for 18 years.
And the award for tattoos that reek of loneliness and a life of solitude goes to……creepy lady shopping with her elderly mother for shorts with an elastic waistband in a fabric that breathes!!
I’ve seen some shitty tattoos in my life but these are by far the shittiest.
I learned that word in the title last week while watching Louis CK at the Davies Symphonic Music Hall. He brought surprise guest Todd Glass which caused my brother and I to squeal in unison immediately upon hearing Louis announce his name. We freaking love Todd Glass. He did new bits and old ones we love AND Louis CK said cunt three times right up there where the fucking SF Symphony plays! If that doesn’t deserve an exclamation point I don’t know what does?
How Not to Act at a Wedding?
A wedding I went to this month featured a groomsmen delivering a heavily slurred two part speech featuring the following sentences…
“If it’s one number I’ll always remember it 555-1212*…Earl* is the guy I call whenever I’m in jail. He’s always there for me”
“I remember when Earl* called me to say he proposed to Gina*…I was smokin’ a joint on the couch and I almost cried” (a voice from the back yelled….”you TOTALLY cried I was there”)
He concluded his speech by dropping his pants and sliding across the dance floor belly flop style. Twice.
I don’t know about you guys but that’s EXACTLY how one should act at a wedding.
*names and phone numbers have been changed to protect the innocent.
Sleep drowned these two out nicely but what if I wasn’t packing an iPod? I would have been subjected to squeals, non-stop questions and worst of all shitty passive-aggressive parenting. These two kids were squirming loudly for nine and a half minutes before their Mom decided to parent by saying, “Play nicely” in the most non-direct, non-threatening tone ever used to parent a child. These two heathen continued to writhe around in their seats as if their asses were allergic to plastic for the remainder of their Muni ride. I’m all for encouraging creativity and imagination play and whatnot but I’m more concerned about kids learning some fucking manners and knowing how to shut the fuck up when they are in public.