Archive for December, 2009

Be vewy vewy quiet

December 31, 2009

Read in the news this morning that model / sports-guy-sexerer Lara Bingle had her car stolen overnight.

Her 2008 Vantage Coupe Aston Martin. Her $250,000 Aston Martin. The one that her fiance, Australian cricketer Michael Clarke, gave her as a gift, and that she’s previously admitted she has trouble driving because “it’s a heavy car”. You can tell she’s upset too, because she tweeted this morning “Aston GONE… KARMA” (note the caps for emphasis).

My heart BLEEDS.

For those who don’t know Lara Bingle, she was the face of Australia’s misguided ‘Where the Bloody Hell Are You?’ tourism campaign. And she’s… uhh… well she’s also done… hmm… she modeled for… err… she’s appeared on…

Look, she’s famous! Alright?!

That's not what we meant when we asked you to promote our all new, all comfortable pads Lara

According to news reports (yes, this actually qualifies as ‘news’) the car was stolen on Tuesday night from the parking garage below Bingle’s luxury 6th floor apartment in Sydney as she slept.

Police apparently have no leads, and are baffled by how the thieves managed to access the underground parking structure.

Why has this caught my attention?

All the articles I’ve read thus far make special mention of the ingenious nature of the crime, and it’s been inferred more than once how devious these guys must have been to out-wit, out-last and out-play Lara Bingle.

Are we thinking of the same Lara Bingle?

I’ve got news for you folks, it probably didn’t take a plan of ‘Oceans 11’ proportions to bypass the boundless intellect of a Speedos model.

Do those dead eyes haunt anyone else?

If I walked up to Lara Bingle after she parked said car on the street, pointed over her shoulder and said “Look over there for 20 seconds!”… would I end up with any less Aston Martin than these devilish crims?

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go work on my plan to steal Big Brother evictee / celebrity rack Krystal Forscutt’s credit cards. I’m thinking I approach her and say “Hi, do you mind if I borrow your credit cards?”

Failing that I call Casey Affleck, Scott Caan and that little Chinese acrobat to take things from there…

BPM

The outfit where you don’t want any Klingons…

December 30, 2009

I’m normally a real advocate for the uber-nerd…

?

But now is not one of those times.

You go through life, convinced of not a hell of a lot, but one of the few things I was sure of was that I definitely liked photos of women wearing naught but body paint.

Then you see this, taken in Seattle earlier this year. I don’t know what they’re celebrating, or when, or why.

I just know that if Chekhov or McCoy had been walking around like this, with their dicks hanging out of their uniforms, it would have been considered a serious breach of Star Fleet protocol.

Sulu… not so much.

BPM

Team Edward? Team Jacob? TEAM MONKEY!

December 29, 2009

So I have to admit that there have been times over the past year I may have been a little hyper-critical of the Twilight series and Stephenie Meyer. I know I’ve been quick to call the books borderline retarded, the writing simplistic, the themes strangely chaste and stupid, and their success a sure sign of the coming apocalypse. And the movies? I may have said that I thought the acting was bad, the direction of the first film terrible, the characters paper-thin, the effects silly and their success the kind of thing that makes me want to go out and punch a dog.

I over-reacted. OK? It takes a big man to admit that he’s wrong. And, in the absence of a big man, I’m going to try to do the same.

But… still…

I just don’t get how those books sold 19 Bajillion copies.

I don’t get why sparkly, quasi-eunuch vampires walk around in the sunlight, attending high school over and over. To what end?

I don’t understand what makes the Bella character so special. She’s a bland, white-bread, hyperbole-spewing Narcissist for the most part (for those interested, she’s a literary device that’s known in storytelling as a ‘Mary Sue’, pure and simple: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Sue).  This is the woman Vampy has been waiting over a century for?

What does a 100+ year old dude have to talk about with a 16 year old anyway?

I don’t quite understand why Rob Pattinson seems to make every female aged 14-40 get damp in the pant (which may be a good thing I guess).

Swoon...

And I can’t reconcile myself with the fact Stephenie Meyer can spend the rest of her life wiping her ass with the Benjamin’s whilst I subjugate myself day in and out for minimum wage. Maybe that’s what’s bugged me the most. I’m not entirely sure.

What I needed to wrap my head around was this; these books were never written for me. They were never written for anyone over 16 (apologies to all the 34 year old office workers out there pounding through the Edward vs Jacob debate, both male and female). They’re poorly written, but so are most YA novels of the supernatural kissy-kissy genre. The vampires are lame, dickless, sexually repressed caricatures. But Meyers has been quite open about the fact she knows sweet F.A about horror movies, fiction or genre convention. They’re silly, but so are the majority of teenage girls. If the world turned as predictably as we might expect, I’d have never heard of Twilight.

Sorry, wrong column

Oh, what a world it could be.

All that being said, I’m really hoping that they keep churning out these film adaptations. Why? Because if and when they get around to the final book in the series, ‘Breaking Dawn’… well, let’s just say I’m a sadly obsessive Cinephile with a degree in film studies, and I have NO idea how they can make that movie work.

** WARNING: SPOILER ALERT!!! HERE THERE BE SPOILERS **

God knows why though… is there anyone out there who is going to read the books that hasn’t done so already? And if you have read them we’ve all heard you blathering away about them ad nauseum since ’07. Anyway…

Now, I’ve done a little research, And what I’ve discovered (with a little exasperated help from the wife) is the following:

In the last book that couple of couples, Edward and Bella, finally get married. Awwwwwww… and they’ve waited all this time to… uhh… consummate the relationship. But sex before marriage is evil (traditionally so are Vampires, but whatever). That and Edward’s afraid he’s going to fuck Bella to death. His worst fears are avoided however when he only fucks her into unconsciousness.

Sparkle...

For realsies.

While a whole mess of shitty plot is going down for 700 pages, Bella gets pregnant with a demon baby (as near as I can figure it). It’s telepathic. And even smarter than Bella. And super vampire-fetus powerful. That’s powerful. Real powerful. Like Alien poppin’ out of John Hurt powerful. It eventually kicks so hard it breaks both her ribs and her spine.

We can all relate, right? Everyone’s had that feeling after a Zinger Burger at some point in time.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), this cripples Bella. She’s dying. To death. And before anyone asks how Kristen Stewart, perhaps the most laconic actor this side of Sam Elliott, adequately performs these scenes… strap in. Cos Edward’s going to save her AND the baby.

How? How, Edward? Tell me how?

By performing an emergency C-section with his teeth, of course, to save his daughter. And as Bella lays there like a dead fish, he finally turns his expiring wife into a vampire. The most beautiful, radiant, specialist vampire ever.

This in itself is equal measures disturbing and mind bogglingly crazy. But then it gets worse. Because Jacob, the Native American werewolf who you see on all the posters for ‘New Moon’ with his shirt off… he decides on the spot that he wants to fuck this child.

Not right there. Because that’d be wrong. But in a few years (16 or 17 if he can be patient. If…).He sees an infant vampire mutant and thinks “Mmmm… chicken”.

No, you're not allowed to stay at Uncle Jacob's house. Not ever

Dare raise an eyebrow at this little gem and you risk inspiring strenuous objections and the fiery wrath of Twilight fans everywhere. They’ll tell you ‘No, no, no, no, no. He doesn’t just want to have sex with her. He imprints on her. Understand? Imprints’.

So he sees the newborn baby and decides he loves it and he’s gonna sex her up one day. Cool.

‘NO! YOU DON’T GET IT! IMPRINTS! HE IMPRINTS! IT’LL BRING VAMPIRES AND WEREWOLVES TOGETHER YOU IDIOT! DON’T YOU SEE? HE’S IN LOVE! IMMMMPRIIINNTTTSSSS!!!!!!’

Sure. Imprints. I’ll wait and see how well the ‘imprint’ defense works for some sick pedophilic son of a bitch in court. See how the justice system feels about imprinting.

And then everyone lives happily ever after.

Demon baby. Hardcore knock-out fucking. Surgical procedures performed with your teeth. And pedophilia. Let’s not forget that.

How in God’s name do you make this movie romantic, poignant and emotionally satisfying? If you’re Pattinson or Stewart or Lautner how do you play those scenes? Even if you were a good actor? How does even a teenage girl manage to suspend disbelief that far?

‘Breaking Dawn’ has the potential to be the most fascinating film of all time, bar none. Because if this manages to pass muster, then surely you can just make movies about the wildest, sickest shit imaginable, so long as you don’t use naughty words and the boys are soooooooo hot. The Twilight series may be more powerful than we ever thought possible, and ‘Breaking Dawn’ could revolutionize cinema forever.

Or it might just be that movie where Taylor Lautner had to make googy eyes at an infant.

Either way we’re all winners here.

BPM

Why contemporary cinema needs more Velociraptors: #10

December 28, 2009

Bullshit! Whoever wins we ALL win

Sweeeeeeeeeet…

A round robin tournament also involving the Predator will be held on consecutive Sundays, March through October. Tickets on sale now through Ticketek. BE THERE!

BPM

Headline of the week

December 28, 2009

INDIAN GOVERNOR, 86, QUITS OVER SEX TAPE

Eww

From ninemsn.com.au

Wow.

86-year-old Indian governor Narayan Dutt Tiwariji has resigned from office this week amidst claims a videotape has surfaced showing him having sex with 3 significantly younger women.

Tiwariji’s office released a statement denouncing the tape as a fake, and the claims as a “tissue of lies”. Or something like that. “There is absolutely no truth in the alleged news story which is nothing but sensation mongering and in poor taste… The Governor Shri Narayan Datt Tiwariji is 86 years old and in the evening of his life. The office of the Governor is constantly under public scrutiny and entirely above board.”

Nevertheless he resigned from congress a day later, for ‘health reasons’.

You know you want some ladies

Wow.

A local Indian television station broadcast the tape on Friday morning (Merry Xmas!), but a court injunction prevented them from airing the tape again later that afternoon. At which point it had already become viral anyway. Viva la YouTube!

For all you sick bastards, and/or Indian television connoisseurs, the TV report can be seen here:

Wow.

I mean… I’m 29. And some days I can barely get out of bed.

I will say it looks to me more like a few chicks clambering over a cadaver that happens to look a little like Tiwariji… but, you know… whatever.

For those wishing to read the full article, visit:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article6968878.ece

Until next time, join me in a slow, respectful hand-clap for Narayan Dutt Tiwariji.

BPM

Comedian’s of Comedy – David Cross

December 27, 2009

I’m unashamedly a huge fan of stand-up comedy (something you may have sensed from my series of lame attempts at humor on this blog). I was weaned as a youngster on Billy Connolly and Robin Williams, progressing in my teens to the musical stylings of the Doug Anthony All Stars and various other Australian stand-up’s like Greg Fleet. Then in my early 20’s, Bill Hicks found me.

My taste grew just a little darker, thanks to the man who came up with bits like ‘Your children are NOT special’. Don’t get me wrong, I can still watch lighter fare like Jimeoin or a Russell Peters. But my heart truly lies with comics not satisfied just to get a laugh about how expensive milk is at the 7/11. I love a stand-up comedian who will do his utmost to also make you think.

The first in what I hope will be a series of comedians I urge you to check out is David Cross.

For the uninitiated, Cross is a great example of the ‘ThatGuy’phenomenon; you recognize his face, you’ve seen him play bit parts in a dozen movies, drop 1 or 2 funny lines, then disappear. For examples, see ‘Men in Black’, ‘Ghost World’, ‘Small Soldiers’, ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’, even (sigh…) ‘Alvin & the Chipmunks’.

As Dr. Tobias Funke on 'Arrested Development'

On TV he was one of the driving forces behind ‘Mr. Show’, was fantastic on ‘Arrested Development’, and has guest starred on everything from ‘The Drew Carey Show’ to ‘Futurama’. Admittedly some of these programs have been pretty benign. But I promise you, they truly do not prepare you for his live act.

Cross has never hesitated to skewer or satirize anything and everything that raises his ire: religion, children, racism, homophobia, Paris Hilton, his Southern upbringing, the Bush administration, patriotism…

Cross was prepared to brutally discuss 9/11 and it’s effects on the American people less than 6 months after the towers fell… long before most comics were even thinking of taking a few gentle swings at George Bush.

He’s also not above the odd fart joke or bizarre impression. Here he reads from his ‘bible’, called ‘In Search of GoodPussy’:

Cross has had his issues with substance abuse over the years. He recently made headlines in the U.S for doing cocaine at his table whilst attending a White House Correspondents Dinner… less than 60 feet from Barack Obama.

http://www.movieline.com/2009/10/david-cross-cocaine-obama.php

Why, you ask. Why?!? Well, apparently just because Cross has been competing with Vice Magazine founder Gavin McInnes to see who can do blow closest to the President.

Check and mate, D. Cross.

Cross ain’t for everyone. A cynic, an atheist, left-leaning, self-loathing and often times almost cruel, for every one person that will become a fan he’ll almost certainly offend or alienate another. But if you like your comedy black and devoid of Dane Cook-ism’s, then check out either of Cross’ albums, ‘Shut Up You Fucking Baby’ or ‘It’s Not Funny’.

Oh, and a final warning… the track titles on these CD’s… Like ‘Women, Please Rinse Off Your Vagina and Anus!’… they’re almost never meant to be taken literally as to what the track is actually about.

What could be beneath the flap?

Almost never…

Wishing you a GoodPussy day and a GoodPussy life,

BPM

Why contemporary cinema needs more Velociraptors: #9

December 27, 2009

The special Special Edition

Though a fight to the death between Olympia Dukakis and a Velociraptor might actually be no sure thing…

BPM

All units remain on the lookout for Gordon Shumway

December 27, 2009

Helloooo ladies

That’s right, there are NO sacred cows here at the BPM. And that includes icons from your childhood like Gordon Shumway. Or, as he’s more commonly known as, good ol’ Alf.

A short refresher course:

Harmless fun, right? So Alf is one of those annoying assholes who won’t put the video camera down when you ask him nicely to stop. And yeah, maybe he IS a perv who’s always trying to ‘accidentally’ walk in on your wife while she’s in the shower. And so what if he IS always trying to eat your favorite pet. Who amongst us is perfect?

I grew up in the ‘Alf’ era of sitcoms. Family with 2.5 kids, exasperated hard working Dad, stay at home Mom, hilarious hi jinks, annnnnnd by the end of the episode we’re right back where we started. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I watched ‘Alf’. You’re damn right I did. But even as an 8 year old I remember thinking ‘This is just a bit… uhh… dumb’.

So who knew that the True Hollywood Story behind ‘Alf’ would be so interesting?

Shumway in happier times

Did you know that the Alf TV set was a death trap that nearly drove cast and crew members clear out of their minds?

http://www.cracked.com/article/135_6-beloved-tv-shows-that-traumatized-cast-members-life/

Did you know that someone thought it was a good idea for Alf to have his own TV talk show (well, for 7 episodes at least) in mid 2004?

http://www.tvland.com/originals/alf/

Hows about the fact that right wing Fox nut-ball Bill O’Reilly had an on-air ‘debate’ with Alf in 2007 (cue your own ‘which one’s the puppet’ gags)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/12/02/oreilly-teaches-alf-how-t_n_74994.html

That video definitely proves something. I’m just not sure what.

And this time it's personal...

And the kicker, did you know that beloved Tanner family Dad, Max Wright, was the subject of a drug / gay sex scandal in 2001?

That’s right. Willie Tanner was reported (by the National Enquirer, naturally) as having smoked a whole lotta crack and then soliciting gay sex with several homeless men.

http://www.holytaco.com/alfs-dad-loves-gay-sex-and-crack

I don’t even care if that’s true. It’s the kind of oddity that comes along so rarely that ‘facts’ become practically irrelevant.

So, the next time you think you’re sitting down to watch some harmless repeats of ‘Alf’ on Foxtel… think.

Think about all the disparate shit behind the scenes of a TV show… think about the combined insanity of the performers playing the ‘American Dream’ family unit… think about the fact that Alf refuses to die… think about smoking crack…

And think that if it was THIS bad on ‘Alf’, then what must life have been like on the set of the ‘Golden Girls’?

My penis just died

Stay tuned for my inevitable ‘Perfect Strangers’ expose,

BPM

Tis the season… #4: Forgotten Heroes

December 24, 2009

OK, to really set the mood I’m going to ask that you play this song whilst reading my tribute below. Humor me:

It’s Christmas Eve, and all I ask for is that for one moment you think of the person we should really be remembering at this time of year. Someone who asks so little and yet gives so much. The perfect example of patience and self-sacrifice. Someone who, especially in these troublesome times, can teach us all how to better conduct ourselves and how to treat others.

I’m talking, of course, about all the various store assistants at your local shopping centre.

What? What?! Who’d you think I meant?

See, before the Monkey was a white-collar button pusher, he worked many a horrible retail job. And earlier this week I had to admonish myself for forgetting where I come from. I found myself at Highpoint Shopping Centre (or, as its known to every true western suburbanite, Knifepoint), again. As I sat slumped in a husband chair, a cleaner walked past. She saw my defeated posture and said “Bit tired of this?”. I nodded. She then patted my shoulder and said with great sympathy “You look like you could REALLY use a drink”. And then told me where the nearest bar was.

It made my day.

Yeah, I was wondering if you guys sold giant golden rabbits?

Even as I’d been sitting there I’d been cursing that frigging shopping complex. The idiots slow walking in front of me. The brain-dead breeders, pushing their double-wide prams at 1.4 km per hour. The dude spruiking his “Sham-wow’s”. And then I remembered I could just go home. Now, if I really wanted. Most of these poor bastards working in the stores were there for the long haul, hours and hours at least.

I dont care how easy it makes cleaning spillages

So… spare a thought for:

  • The Checkout Chick, forever trapped, who has to apologize to EVERY customer about their wait and take the subsequent abuse… like it’s their fault this Mongoloid decided Christmas Eve was a good time to hit up a department store (Been there, ‘manned’ a Target register for consecutive Christmas’. Even got screamed at by the customer who refused to pay 45 cents for a Chuppa Chup because ‘THE TAG SAID 40 CENTS!!!’).
  • The Store Assistant, unable to say what he truly thinks to you, doing his best to be polite and not to lose his temper whilst being asked strings of borderline retarded questions (Been there, in the DVD store when I was asked “Do you have any Santa Porn?”. Sure. In our Santa Porn section, next to Drama and Horror… asshole).
  • The Outpost Attendant, miserably manning those small tables in the middle of the centre, explaining over and over that he can’t accept AMEX, and folding and re-folding the clothes every passing customer destroys on a whim (Been there, both the Outpost job and the folding. I worked nightfill at Knifepoint in the lead in to Christmas. I developed increasingly weird sleep patterns, sure, but can I fold the fuck out of a bath-towel).
  • The Assistant Manager, who makes no extra money, received no extra training, but is a convenient scapegoat whenever a Manager isn’t around and a customer wants to scream about a particular item being out of stock (Been there too, working a Gift Shop around the time when Singing Billy Bass was a hit. I got reamed by many a 52-year-old Airport West housewife over that item. That. Fuckin. Fish. To this day I still can’t listen to Bobby McFerrin).

    Die Asshole Fish!!!

  • The Cleaner, whose thankless task is to clean up your scattered, half-finished hokkien noodles and those chocolate sundaes your 8 kids just smeared on the wall (I once dodged a half-eaten soft serve cone thrown head high, only for another kid to spontaneously regurgitate a Strawberry thickshake, Exorcist-style. An inch deep. On carpet).

All these veritable Saints, and many more, have been slaving away invisibly for the past few weeks, near killing themselves while we complain about how tough it was to find parking at Chadstone. They have been doing everything in their power to serve, and the thanks they get is “These shops are a nightmare!” They see every spoilt child’s tantrum, every spoilt adult’s tantrum, all the worst aspects of human behavior. And somehow they’ve still managed to muster up a “Have a great Christmas” to us all.

No, it doesn’t matter if they mean it or not! Would you mean it if your roles were revered for one day?!

I thank Satan Claus himself that I’m no longer in that position when December rolls around. Though, with the job market as it is, in 12 months time you may very well see this Monkey at a Boost Juice, offering you a Guava, Grapefruit, Banana, Acai and Kiwi-fruit Krush.

Until then, remember that schlub in the Toy Department at Big W, the goth chick behind the counter at Borders, the harried single Mum stocking Safeway shelves. Because working nights and weekends for what is almost minimum wage around every asshole under the sun when they’re at their absolute worst… the fact that they do this and hardly anyone gets beaten to death with an Eftpos scanner… THAT’s a Christmas Miracle.

Enjoy your holiday season all,

BPM

Why contemporary cinema needs more Velociraptors: #8

December 23, 2009

Is it me, or does this poster actually have a more cohesive plot than ‘Eyes Wide Shut’? KUUU-BRICKKKKK!!!

Though I would see ‘The Shining’ again and again if Stanley had have thrown the odd Velociraptor in the hedge maze.

Rot Par! Rot Par!

BPM