So, I just discovered The Velvet Underground's "Heroin" about an hour or so ago, and now I can't stop listening to it even though I know it's eating my bandwidth.



Better late to the party than never, right? Does anyone have any classic glam rock they could recommend? I like (redundancies not edited out) David Bowie, Marc Bolan, Lou Reed, T. Rex, Sweet, Roxy Music, Brian Eno, Slade, everyone within six degrees of the Velvet Goldmine OST, etc.

But especially T. Rex.

First order of business:

I will never understand why New Moon has more fangirls than Inglourious Basterds. Never. The insane amount of people on campus flailing over RPattz and Taylor both confuses and disgusts me. Even when I was 12 I was renting James Bond movies like it was nobody's business.

I know, I know: ~*~The heart wants what it wants~*~ and all that jazz. But, come on. Really?

Keep your waxed minors, Twihards. Give me Christoph any every day of the week.



----------

On a similar note, I watched The Sting last night. I am now a better person.

Some days I wonder if I try to like Robert Redford because my mom likes him and I want to be able to share a similar love interest with a tangible female role model, but on other days (and by "other days," I mean "in the middle of the night camping out on my roommate's futon"), I don't need coaxing.

I like to think The Sting is a sequel to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, only set in an alternate universe where Paul Newman gets the mustache this time.

That cap is going right next to Indiana Jones' fedora on my list of Best Hats in Film.


And then there's Paul Newman, who I only fell in love with after the media began montages in memoriam. (Yes, that was an awkward week.) Those dressing bottles don't do him justice.





( Is it too late to adopt Paul Newman/Robert Redford as my OTP? )

In keeping with today's theme, I would like to take the opportunity to confess:

I was born without the gene to find Marlon Brando attractive. I am ashamed.

Earlier this week I made plans to go see Inglourious Basterds next Wednesday with my mom and brother at a second-run theater.

I called the theater and a manager assured me that it would be playing through at least Thanksgiving.

I double-checked moviefone.com today and the title wasn't listed. I called the theater again and another manager told me that yesterday had been the last day.

Oh, the all-too-familiar sinking feeling in my chest. I thought I could handle the disappointment, but my eyes welled up when I had to call my mom to cancel.

As pathetic as this sounds, Basterds was the only thing I was looking forward to after the shitfest that has been my past few weeks of classes. I would forgo Thanksgiving dinner a hundred times over (I fucking hate Thanksgiving) with my extended family if it meant I would have the opportunity to share such a bad ass movie with my mom and brother.

Of course I'm buying the DVD, but it's not the same! If I could have it my way, I'd watch all my movies in a theater setting. If it's one thing I'm addicted to, it's escapism. If it's two things I'm addicted to, it's escapism and heroin Wrigley's Extra Polar Ice. Hey--that's an idea. I might let myself watch Trainspotting tonight if I shut the fuck up and get my homework started.

Fuck. I still have to do a Spanish test, a Spanish presentation, a persuasive speech, a Biology Lab quiz, twelve "Eco Footprint Journal" entries, and whoknowswhatelse next week. My only reward is sleep.

ETA: Caffeine + good music = coping.

Haha, pretty much. LOL @ Mr. Shue for thinking that singing a mash-up of "Don't Stand So Close to Me" and "Young Girl" to Rachel while jumping around and running his hands through his hair would put an end to her crush. Could he have chosen any more counter-productive songs?

ETA: "And send you into the loving arms of some teenage slut?!" LMAO!

ETA 2: "Trust me, I'm a cautionary tale!" OMG THIS EPISODE IS KILLING ME.

Momentarily lifting my self-imposed ban on posting to bring you this magnificent specimen of a Gentleman's Quarterly Mother-Fucker:

BTW, This Man > Your Precious Layout ;D



I really should be working on my research paper, so in lieu of a written explanation of my emotions that wouldn't even begin to explain the thoughts swarming passionately in and out and around my head, I'm going to express my appreciation in .gif form:



Remind me to discuss my undying love for Inglourious Basterds at a later date. That damn movie is taking over my life... and I like it.

Hey, could someone describe to me what an actual hostel looks like? Say, one in Spain?

To make a long story short, I need to know for a Spanish composition I'm writing, but of course Google's only turning up pictures from the movie Hostel and instead of getting work done I'm torn between Yay, Eli! and OH DEAR GOD IS THAT HER EYEBALL?!

Despite the fact that I haven't seen the movie, I have half a mind to just write about these morbid screencaps instead and call it a night. However, I don't think mi profesora would be amused.

¡El albergue fue horrible! Hubo sangre en el suelo y un chica muerta y--¿¡oh dios mío es eso su ojo?!

Last night I popped some popcorn that I got from trick-or-treating and stayed up until 4:30 in the morning watching Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

OH GOD SOMETIMES I AM SO AWESOME I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT.

Whoops... Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Butch Cassidy/The Sundance Kid.

Fixed.

To the best of my memory, this was my first (actual) old-timey western. I am pleased to say that I enjoyed it very much. I thought I would never get into this genre, but with slash goggled firmly soldered to my face, any movie with two male leads is entertaining.

WARNING: INFORMAL LJ SPEAK DEAD AHEAD. ALSO, SPOILERS.

That Etta chick? She was just a buffer zone. I don't believe that either Butch or Sundance really loved her. I mean, come on! They openly shared her! Knowingly having sex with the same woman was the closest that they could get to being physically intimate with each other without infringing upon societal norms.

Half of those pictures from their ~*~beautiful sepia journey to Bolivia~*~ were of the three of them leaning all over each other. At the very least, they had threesomes. I won't settle for anything less.

And when she wanted to leave, they didn't even try to convince her otherwise. She was dispensable, and she knew it.

As for body language, Butch and Cassidy walked closer together than House and Wilson. I swear that there were scenes where it only would have taken a flick of the wrist for the two of them to be holding hands. Yes, I died at the scenes where they were riding the same horse. METAPHOR, MUCH?!

The last scene upset me, but only because I knew how it would end. At least they went out with thoughts of running away to Australia together. I suppose that's not a bad way to die. I did like that, whenever they were in a tight situation, they would always muse about the future. Their optimism, coupled with their playful jabbing ("Is that what you call giving cover?"/ "Is that what you call running?"), had me swooning despite the situation.

Who doesn't love a couple of good outlaws?



Although I was genuinely surprised to find that I liked movie itself, I will say that I correctly predicted that I would love Paul Newman and Robert Redford, so I already having The Sting torrented and ready to go for a rainy day. (Btw, I only discovered that movie by accident when searching for "Sting & The Police" pictures on flickr.)

That will be a good day.



ETA: Lol, I think it's funny that my mom and I have seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (on separate occasions), while my dad and brother haven't. :P

So I woke up this morning to find that I had once again exceeded my bandwidth.

I made a call to tech support and briefly explained my situation, channeling my secretary voice and asking in an innocent freshman girl way if streaming audio for my Spanish class could be to blame.

Hey. Don't judge me. The guy on the other line confirmed my suspicion and, after a pause said, "We're not supposed to tell you this, but..." and gave me my internet connection back. *high-fives self*

With the webs back, now I can get my homework--OMG ontd_blueberry IS ACCEPTING NEW MEMBERSHIP.

Ok... fine, but I'm not letting myself watch Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, tonight! I need to crack down somewhere.

Also: .GIFs? I can look but I can't save. YouTube? I can't even look.

ETA: LOL @ PEOPLE ACTUALLY MISTAKING HIM FOR ZQ IRL. I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST AN INTERNET MEME.

OH GOD HELP I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE PROPER. jk but not really

HAPPY GUY FAWKES DAY!

Which I only realize was an actual holiday that is actively celebrated about a month ago because holy fuck I must be the slowest learner ever.

Somebody go watch V for Vendetta in my honor; I'm too busy digging myself deeper and deeper into a homework hole.

As long as Zachary Quinto posts exist on ONTD, I will not eat, sleep, or get any work done.

WTFFFFF I HAVEN'T EVEN EVER SEEN HEROES OR STAR TREK, BUT I KNOW WHERE THE PARTY'S AT.

I AM THIS HAPPY!







Does anyone have a larger version of this?














Coherent post may or may not come later.

I managed to exceed my bandwidth. I'm typing from the residence hall computer lab, but I hate Macs and IE, so I probably won't be online much until I get home Friday afternoon.

This may or may not be related to the Sting & The Police picture saving, music video watching spree I went on yesterday evening.

Shiiiiit. What do people without Internet access do for... everything?

Unless it's keeping you from studying, but hey! I think a short Christoph Waltz appreciation post is always justifiable.

LOOK AT THIS GQMF ACCEPTING SOME AWARD AT SOME AWARDS SHOW.



Yoinked from christophdaily.

After watching this clip, I got this idea in my head that he should act in every single Dateline/MSNBC documentary from now on. Then again, I don't know. I probably shouldn't mix those two areas of interest. "Hey, you got your murder mystery in my porn!" / "You got your porn in my murder mystery!" Etc, etc...

Lol I might have problems.

I had a strange dream last night. I can't be certain, but based on its nature, I'm going to assume that it was the product of following Inglourious Basterds slashfiction with The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert YouTube clips over the weekend. Oh, and I went on a Prince binge, too. Don't ask.

Setting: The 2010 Oscars. I don't know exactly what was happening, but Inglourious Basterds won for something, and each actor had to come up individually to accept his award (because it was my dream, I completely disregarded the actresses lol).

This is where it gets odd. Each actor was dressed in essentially the same tuxedo, but with one dramatic exception: instead of tuxedo pants, they each wore a black, floor-length skirt. I'm not talking about a kilt; these were form-fitting and each had a unique, revealing design. I am too embarrassed to give further details. lmao

As I said, it was implied that each actor involved in the movie had to accept his award individually, but I only remember five specific individuals. Eli Roth and Christoph Waltz had the scantiest outfits and gave their speeches first, most likely reflecting my special interest in their characters and the RPF. Til Schweiger went next. Actually, Til was the only one dressed traditionally, although he did lift a pant leg up for sport--actually, was he wearing heels? Fuck, I can't remember. I think I subconsciously chose to not alter his image because I refuse to slash Hugo Stiglitz even though I'm fascinated with his character. Daniel Brühl and Michael Fassbender finished off my bizarre fantasy with increasingly conservative skirts. Once again, this probably has to do with my present degree of interest.

I woke up an hour and fifteen minutes before my alarm was set to go off, thought, "This is going on LiveJournal," and drifted back off to a less eventful sleep.

One last thing: OMG I DIDN'T KNOW THEY DID FAKE INTERVIEWS FOR NATION'S PRIDE. I was in a puddle on the floor when I first saw this. :D



I have never been more excited for DVD special features than I am for this movie.

Ok. I'm going to go be creepy elsewhere.

"I thought I had a bisexual leprechaun on, but really it was just a metro-gnome." - Craig Ferguson

I sleep better if I stay up late and watch Craig Ferguson than if I go to bed early. :)

WHOA. BACK THAT SHIT UP. I had no idea that Joaquin Phoenix was River Phoenix's brother. It seems obvious now, but I just never made the connection.

I'm watching Running on Empty right now because Stephen Fry recommends it in Moab Is My Washpot and it's taken Blockbuster two months to mail it to me.

Consequently, I decided to scroll through his IMDb page. I knew about his parents' involvement in the "Children of God" cult from a documentary I watched on MSNBC one weekend, but most of this information is news to me. I think I get to be so fascinated by him because he always seemed like such a tragic figure--both on film and in real life.

( TL;DR )

----------

I watched All the President's Men earlier tonight. Since I'm 33 years late to the party, I'll spare my flist of any "Deep Throat" jokes, but I will say this: for some strange reason, I couldn't get the song "Rump Shaker" out of my head...



OMG "WOODSTEIN." THAT'S SOOO CUTE. :D

I just figured out what I want to be for Halloween, and it compliments my being cheap and indecisive!

I'm going to be a Summer Blockbuster.

First, I'm going to leave my hair curly and Jokerize my face. I have a green and purple hoodie I can wear, too, so I won't freeze.

I have a green lightsaber that I can clip to my jeans.

My mom has a really old wooden bat that she keeps for "protection" that I'm totally going to swing around Bear Jew style.

Essentially, I'm going as a mash-up of Heath Ledger, Liam Neeson, and Eli Roth.

I'M SO EXCITED. :D

Dear flist,

My little brother keeps hijacking comment threads on my Facebook. This is especially annoying when I'm talking to guys that I went to high school with. How do I keep him in line?

Sincerely,

Annie

----------

In other news, I just discovered thisisphotobomb.com this afternoon, but already I am in love.

This picture is killing me.



Also, it's the first time I've found myself attracted to Daniel Craig. Two ugly things make a hot? IDK.

I'm sitting at my desk and listening to the Scissor Sisters until I stop crying because I can't let my roommates see.

I am so lonely that I can't handle it anymore.

ETA: Now I'm dicking around with my emotions and watching My Own Private Idaho on YouTube. I don't intend to sleep well tonight.

This is serious.

How did I not know that All The President's Men (1976) is about the Watergate scandal? Furthermore, how did I not know that Woodward and Bernstein were played by Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman? As an aspiring journalist, amateur movie buff, and part-time perv, I am simply astounded to discover that my three major radars have overlooked this gem.

We watched some of the special features in my journalism class this morning, mostly because our prof ran out of NPR clips for us to listen to. Needless to say, I was involuntarily grinning at this change in the lesson plan, although I have to admit that I closed my eyes during Robert Redford's interview because I'm a shallow bitch and he didn't age well.

I need this movie in my life yesterday.


Kinda sorta related: As much as I like Obama, my reaction to reading about the Nobel Peace Prize was, "What? Really?"

I'll leave it at that.

***

This is more serious.

There appears to be mold growing on the ceiling over our shower. How concerned should I be?