Category archives for Ancient history

Tuesday, November 1, 2005

Lulu, The Sports Illustrated Interview, part 3

[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

I'm still here in Ireland for the Adidas Dublin Marathon. I'm still trying to get an interview that might not get me fired. With me today is Colin Farrell.

Interview Guy: Mr. Farrell, thanks for speaking with me today.

Colin Farrell: Call me Colin. [Farrell winks.]

IG: I'd prefer Mr. Farrell, thank you.

CF: Oh, come on! You're in Ireland; you need to loosen up.

IG: Mr. Farrell, can you tell me anything about Lulu?

CF: Who?

IG: Lulu. The lovely young woman you were molesting two days ago.

CF: Sorry, which?

IG: Lulu. She took your hands out of her shirt to come over and talk to me?

CF: Oh, Lulu! The Californian with the great boobage.

IG: Yes! That's the one!

CF: Right, right, right. I remember her, yeah.

IG: Can you tell me anything about her?

CF: Eh, not much I'm afraid.

IG: Anything at all? I'm trying to keep my job here.

CF: Uh, well… Oh, here's something: I've never before seen a Yank girl try to drink Guinness straight from the tap.

IG: She actually tried that?

CF: Oh, yeah. She seemed to think that's the way it works here. The landlord was quite bothered by that. In the end he chalked it up to cultural differences and poured her a pint.

IG: So what is it about Lulu that attracted you to her?

CF: Boobage.

IG: Did she teach you that word?

CF: Yeah. She said I couldn't touch them unless I called them by their proper name.

IG: So you did get to touch them then?

CF: [He grins.] Aye, I did.

IG: This just might save my job. You didn't happen to get a picture of them, did you?

CF: What?

IG: A photo. Of Lulu's boobage. Do you have a picture?

CF: No, sorry. Have you seen how tight my pants are? Where am I supposed to keep a camera?

IG: My editor is really hoping for a boob photo.

CF: You're trying to get me out of my shirt, aren't you?

IG: No, Mr. Farrell, I assure you I'm not.

CF: Don't be shy. I saw you checking me out.

IG: No! Mr. Farrell, I was not!

CF: It's all right. I understand.

IG: Please stop rubbing my leg.

CF: That's what Jared Leto said. He didn't mean it either.

IG: No means no! No means no!

CF: We'll start slowly. I'll just unbutton my shirt for now.

Colin Farrell

IG: Please stop, Mr. Farrell.

CF: You can't run away from your feelings.

IG: I really need to leave now.

CF: Dick.

Monday, October 31, 2005

Sex trafficking hits the mid-west

I've read news articles and UN reports and what not about a global increase in sex trafficking, but until this weekend I never really paid any attention. When I think of human trafficking, I normally think of eastern Europe, southeast Asia, or maybe the cities of the US west coast.

The BBC always has stories about young women smuggled out of places like Romania and Thailand and forced into a life of sex slavery on the vague promise of a better life someday.

I'd never considered that the mid-west would be so deeply involved in the problem. Now I know better. The situation is far more serious than I ever would have imagined. Not only is the problem widespread, but it's unabashedly out in the open.

It's been right in front of me and I haven't noticed. It's in grocery stores and gas stations. It's even in big chains stores, like Wal-Mart and Menards. In fact it was Menards where I first noticed the problem.

Sex trafficking. In Menards. I feel sick.

But I tried so hard not to judge. I needed to be sure it wasn't some kind of sick joke. I had to know it was real.

So I did it. I purchased not one but two little hotties, just to see if it was real. Oh, it was real. It was very real. The young woman at the cash register took my money and smiled at me as I left. She asked no questions. She didn't even give it a second thought.

I now own two little hotties.

Little Hotties

I considered setting them free as soon as I was out of the building. I'm ashamed to say I have not done so. It might be wrong, but I paid forty-nine cents for the two little hotties, so I feel I have a right to stuff them in my pants on a cold day.

I'm going to hell, aren't I?

Lulu, The Sports Illustrated Interview, part 2

[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

Once again I'm here in Ireland for the Adidas Dublin Marathon. My editor has been incoherently screaming things that sound like "deadline," so I'm moving forward with my interview. Unfortunately Lulu is unavailable, as she's actually running the marathon at the moment. I have here with me Lulu's physical therapist, who has agreed to speak with me about Lulu.

Interview Guy: Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.

Lulu's Physical Therapist: It's no bother, really. I've got nothing to do until after the race anyway.

IG: So can you tell us anything about Lulu's physical condition?

LPT: She's in rough shape.

IG: Can you elaborate on that at all?

LPT: Lulu's shovel feet are going to explode shortly after the ten kilometer mark.

IG: Lulu has shovel feet?

LPT: No, of course not. It's not like she actually has shovels for feet.

IG: That image is a little Tim Burton.

LPT: I mean that Lulu is going to pound her feet until they are as flat and wide as shovels. And then they're going to explode.

IG: Shortly after the ten kilometer mark?

LPT: Yes, that's correct.

IG: How can you be so certain when they'll explode?

LPT: I've got $500 riding on the tenth kilometer.

IG: You've placed a wager on when your client's feet will explode?

LPT: Yes.

IG: Isn't that unethical?

LPT: Yeah, probably. But I need the money. I'm a physical therapist. You think all that dominatrix gear is free?

IG: Uh, what kind of dominatrix gear to you have? Did you bring any with you to Dublin?

LPT: I have quite a bit of my gear at the hotel.

IG: Is there any way I can see some of that?

LPT: If you can pay $125 an hour, you can see as much as you like… worm.

IG: I don't think my editor will cover that expense. Can I just get a picture of your boobs instead?

LPT: What? No!

IG: I might be able to get you on the cover.

LPT: Really? Umm, ok.

Pepperoni girl

IG: There's no way that will ever make the cover.

LPT: But you said…

IG: I'm sorry, I have a previous engagement. Please excuse me.

LPT: Dick.

Colin Farrell: Is that pepperoni?

I meant to do a real post today, honest

But now it's so late, all I have time for is the little post script that I was going to append to what I was going to write. Uh, if that makes any sense.

Today is the last day for October nominations at the order. As of this writing, there are four award categories that have no nominations and four more that have only one nomination. So go nominate something. People are writing some great stuff, all we have to do is point it out.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Lulu, The Sports Illustrated Interview

[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

I'm here in Ireland on the eve of the Adidas Dublin Marathon with Lulu, sports fanatic, runner, Californian, Goddess. Lulu has graciously agreed to take Colin Farrell's hands out of her shirt long enough to speak with me for a few moments.

Interview Guy: Lulu, thanks for joining me.

Lulu: You're welcome. I'm honored to be interviewed for SI.

IG: Umm, yeah. So how are you feeling today?

Lulu: I feel good. I'm a little nervous, but I feel strong.

IG: Nervous about the marathon? Or about those kissy faces Colin Farrell is making at you?

Lulu: The marathon. I'm pretty sure Farrell is making those kissy faces at you.

IG: I'm suddenly uncomfortable. May we change seats?

Lulu: Sure.

IG: Ok, now he's back to looking at you. I feel better now.

Lulu: Wimp.

IG: Uh, ok. Before we get back to the marathon, I'd like to talk about the issue that concerns our readers most.

Lulu: And that issue would be?

IG: Boobs.

Lulu: Oh, come on! I'm about to run a marathon. How could SI possibly be more interested in my boobs?

IG: Are you kidding? Haven't you ever seen our soft core Swimsuit Issue? Half the time they're not even wearing swimsuits.

Lulu: Good point. [She sighs.] Go ahead then. Ask your questions.

IG: What's with the word "boobage?"

Lulu: You don't like boobage? Are you gay?

IG: No! I like boobs just fine, I'm just wondering about the word "boobage."

Lulu: Boobage is good. Boobage is unique and pleasant. Just like my boobage.

IG: So can I get a picture of those to share with all of my readers?

Lulu: No.

IG: Please?

Lulu: Groveling isn't going to help you. There's so much more to me than boobs. I resent this a little. And stop staring. My face is up here.

IG: With a picture, I might be able to get you the cover story.

Lulu: Oh, all right! Here!

Not Lulu

IG: That's not even a picture of you! That's the woman from Terminator 3.

Lulu: And that's all you're getting. Are we going to talk about the marathon or sports or something?

IG: Oh, I'm sorry. I'm all out of time right now. We'll have to continue this another time.

Lulu: Dick.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Your daily shot of Lulu

[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

To mellow and enhance her strong flavors, a shot of Lulu is best enjoyed with a wedge of lemon and a pinch of salt.
 

Wine with lesbians
Everyone wants our Lulu
'Cuz she's so damn hot.
 

A hypothetical conversation.

You: Haiku? That's all you've got? That's weak. What the hell's wrong with you?

Me: Hey, give me a break. It's Saturday. I'm just phoning this shit in.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Half-assed entertainment review: Zombie movie threefer

Before I get to the actual reviews, let me get something out of the way first. Shut up, Mark.

Moving on.

Half-assed entertainment reviews almost became a regular feature this summer, but somewhere along the way I lost interest. Today I'm interested in it, and I've been watching a lot of zombie movies lately, so… why not?

Land of The Dead

First on the agenda is George A. Romero's "Land of The Dead." The fourth movie in Romero's seminal zombie series, Land is simultaneously both the best and the worst. Romero became famous, or at least sort of famous, for his 1968 classic "Night of The Living Dead." The landmark original was stark in it's simplicity. Sparse sets, black and white film, unknown actors… this was much like a very good student film.

He followed up a decade later with "Dawn of The Dead," considered by some to be the best zombie movie ever. Again, Romero chose unknown actors but this time he brought more money and a few more skills to the table.

In 1985 (I think, I'm too lazy to look it up), he closed out his "trilogy" with "Day of The Dead." A lot of fans found this one disappointing. I'm not one of those fans. To date, this was Romero's most technically complex film.

Twenty years later, Romero finally returned to add another chapter to the genre he practically invented with this year's Land of The Dead. I was an excited little dork when this movie came to the theaters. On opening weekend, Sister and I scuttled off to the theater to see what Romero might do this time. (Shut up, Mark.)

I was stunningly disappointed.

The two common features of Romero's three previous films were (1) incisive social commentary that focuses on different personality types and how they react to eminent death or even a collapse of society and (2) a near-complete lack of professional filmmaking skills.

Romero's films kind of sucked. But I don't really think of him as a filmmaker. Instead I think of him as something of a satirist who happens to (badly) use movie cameras.

The central focus of the first film was isolation and paranoia. The second showcased denial and consumerism. And the third, laying a heavy foundation for Danny Boyle's excellent "28 Days Later," dealt with despair and powerlessness.

Land of The Dead takes this a step further and deals with class divisions in the post apocalyptic world. The first and most obvious division is among the living. The wealthy live in affluence, safely ensconced in Fiddler's Green, a luxury tower no one ever need leave. The poor, which is of course almost everyone else, live in squalor in the ruins of a fortified city.

The second division is between living and dead. Romero builds on the sympathy he created with Bub in Day and makes Land's most likable character a zombie, "Big Daddy." He also continues his themes from Day by making many of the living less likable than any of the zombies.

When watching Land, right from the beginning I was impressed with how skilled Romero had become in the technical aspects of filmmaking. There were one or two scenes that were very impressive. Apparently Romero spent the last twenty years learning how to really do this shit.

Unfortunately, he also spent the last twenty years neglecting the satire and commentary that made his movies cool in the first place.

Because of the movie's twin subcurrents of class struggle, there are two main plotlines. The first focuses on a "Robin Hood as a bastard" type who's butting heads with the upper class. This plotline is the really stupid one. John Leguizamo steals a very impressive armored vehicle and uses its massive weapons to hold the city for ransom. Ransom. Money has value in the city, where commerce has been reestablished. But what the hell is he going to do with cash out in the wasteland? Eat it? Burn it? Sew it into hundred dollar bill underwear? Ridiculous. This one massive plot hole taints everything in the movie with it's foolishness.

The second plotline is far more interesting, but considerably more subtle. Big Daddy ends up becoming something of a zombie Che Guevara as he leads "his people" against the oppressive living. Big Daddy is obviously the most naturally intelligent zombie Romero has ever featured. Finally angered into action by the violent smash-and-grab supply runs on the zombie infested suburbs, he channels his energy and emotion into something of a shuffling assault on the city.

Although Romero used name actors in his latest film, he's not quite able to wring notable performances out of any of them. It's particularly telling that the best acting was from Eugene Clark, the more-or-less unknown who played Big Daddy.

It's Big Daddy, and Clark's portrayal, that stuck with me after the first viewing. This idea of a zombie liberator is clever and fresh, and in the end is the movie's most redeeming aspect.

 

Night of The Living Dead

Next in the queue is the 1990 remake of "Night of The Living Dead." Tom Savini, the make up and effects wizard from Day and the original Dawn, tries his hand at directing by retelling his mentor's classic original.

And mostly does a pretty damn good job of it, too.

Savini stays faithful to the spirit of Romero's original, but makes a few fundamental changes that leave this feeling like a completely different movie.

As you might expect, Savini's version features vastly improved make up. Gone is the "put some gray powder on his face and call him a zombie" look from Romero's older works. The gore effects are delightfully understated, leaving the focus of this movie exactly where it should be: on the characters.

The male lead, Ben, is this time played masterfully by Tony Todd. Todd manages to perfectly capture the character in a way that seems lifted directly from the original classic. If you could say that Todd is a star (which I would seriously doubt), then you would have to concede that it was this movie that made him so. As a fan of the original, it's just delightful watching the way he breathes new life into his character.

With the exception of an ending that is very different, but no less sardonic, the biggest difference is how the female lead, Barbara, is presented. In the original there's a very long sequence where Barbara is nearly catatonic, motionless and silent, as Ben chatters away about their circumstances and busies himself with fortifying their appropriated farmhouse. Unlike the original, where Barbara never really shakes off this funk, the new version features a Barbara who awakens to discover her inner Schwarzenegger. It's this new "girls rule" Super Barbara that contributes most to the new ending.

All things considered, this remake was pretty good. It doesn't supplant the original, but it comes pretty close on a few points.

 

Undead

And last on our list is the Australian film "Undead." Here's a box of clothes pins. Put one on your nose and pass the box to the next person in line please. This movie is a real stinker.

Undead is not just a zombie movie. You could probably call it a zombie/alien horror/comedy. It's a movie that can't decide what it wants to be. I think perhaps the filmmakers were trying for something that felt like "Shaun of The Dead" with its perfect blend of horror and humor. Undead falls far short of this goal.

The scenes featuring zombies are lighthearted, silly, and even a bit reminiscent of John Woo's Hong Kong style action. These elements almost make this movie a parody. But then leaven that with scenes of deathly seriousness (no pun intended.) It feels like the filmmakers tried for both equally, but in the end they achieved neither.

And aliens? What the hell is that all about? I shouldn't pick on the creative minds behind this too much. They tried something new and bold with what is otherwise a very simplistic genre, and I should laud them for it. But I'm not going to because the end result was so damn clumsy.

Muddle this mess even further with dreadful overacting and gratuitous ultra-violence and you have a Picasso of a movie. The individual pieces are lovely, but the way they're assembled makes no sense at all.

However, I did end up watching this movie twice. The last three minutes are absolutely incredible. But in every respect, it feels like something from a different film. The ending is somber, creative, gritty, and even a little artistic. I watched the movie a second time, looking very closely for hidden brilliance. I didn't find any.

Perhaps the studio fired the filmmakers and hired someone else to finish the picture.

I might recommend you trick a gullible friend into renting this movie just so you can watch the last three minutes without paying for it, but unfortunately the ending won't make much sense unless you suffer through the rest of it. At least wait until it's off the New Release list, or pick a night you feel masochistic.
 

And in conclusion, I'll just add one more thing. Shut up, Mark.

Photo Friday: Booblicious

[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

Not Lulu's boobs

Ok, so these aren't exactly Lulu's boobs. Lulu's boobs are much more magnificent than these. But this picture does an excellent job of showcasing how small one might feel in their presence.

Cartoon Friday

Cartoon friday
Image credit: Joe Heller, Green Bay Press-Gazette

Cartoon friday
Image credit: Doug Marlette, Tallahassee Democrat

Everybody's doin' the Disco Duck

[Ed. note: republished with permission from Lulu's blog.]
 

Greetings to all of you. I am Lulu's Bitch, a.k.a. Lulu's ManServant #1. Vixen that she is, Lulu continuously taunts me with the possibility that I am merely one of many ManServants. But at least I'm ManServant #1. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

Yesterday Lulu mentioned that she's slightly uneasy about leaving her blog without updates for the next several… you know, I should just rehash the conversation for you.

Lulu: "Slave!"

Me: "Yes, Mistress Lulu."

Lulu: "I'm concerned about leaving my blog go without updates."

Me: "Why, Mistress Lulu?"

Lulu: "I don't want my readers to abandon me."

Me: "They will not do that, Mistress Lulu. Your readers love you."

Lulu: "Hmm. Perhaps. But I don't like going for so long without updates."

Lulu: "Slave!"

Me: "Yes, Mistress Lulu."

Lulu: "I want you to post on my behalf while I am away."

Me: "Yes, Mistress Lulu. Whatever Mistress desires."

And there you have it. As we all know, our Lulu is irreplaceable. I'll be a faint shadow. I'll be methadone to her heroin. If we're lucky, I'll be just enough to get us all through the cold, dark, Lulu-less days ahead.

So… hi!