This Makes Me Think Of Jessica!

Netflix Pick: 1408 (Theatrical Version)

I signed up for Netflix when I was a sophomore in college. I was a woman possessed by three at a time unlimited movies. I had a schedule for sending and recieving. I beefed up my queue and once I made my way through 168 movies, six television series, and a numerous Shirley Temples, I stopped ordering movies. Now, my movie queue has twelve painfully awful movies that I could go without seeing, but I need to anyway. You should thank me for saving you the trouble of watching them.

The Netflix Sleeve o' Knowing blurb says:

"No one can explain the strange goings-on in room 1408 of the Dolphin Hotel. In this thriller based on a Stephen King story, writer and paranormal debunker Mike Enslin (John Cusack) is determined to demystify the ghostly events, even though a hotel clerk (Samuel L. Jackson) begs him to rethink his plans. Mike needs to write another book soon, and room 1408 may be his ticket to the top of the best seller list. But will he survive even one night" Rated PG-15, 1h 44m, 2007.

Oh I'm shuddering. This movie is definitely going to test my thug. I would like to make a few things clear before I jump in.

1. It took me 3 tries to get through the first 40 minutes of the movie.
2. I am typing this as I watch the movie.
3. I used to know what the L in Samuel L Jackson stood for.

The movie opens with Mike investigating a room where the paranormal activities that he doesn't believe in, but writes about anyway, the same ones that pay his bills. He publishes a book, aptly titled "The 10 Most Haunted Places in America". Mike then heads to a local book store where nobody knows who he is or that he is doing a reading there that day. Shockingly, four people show up. One of them was a cute college pseudo-beatnik, who asks him to sign a copy of his first book, which is apparently a novel about a father and a son.

So Mike, who is clearly aware that he is operating below capacity, goes to check his PO box. He reads through the first few fan letters when he comes across a postcard. It is from The Dolphin Hotel and the message says "Stay out of 1408". Now, that sounds like I fair warning to me. I would have stayed out of 1408, and gone on unaffected. After reading this postcard, Mike does the logical thing, goes surfing, wipes out, I'm not invested enough to get the symbolism and books room 1408 at The Dolphin.

One of the higher ups in the hotel's administration is Mr. Olin, who explains that he doesn't let anyone stay in 1408 because nobody lasts in there for more than an hour. They all wind up dying. Another warning that he chooses to ignore. I'm not sure why this baffles me because people smoke cigarettes every day even though there's a written warning on the box that eventually, it will kill you. After going over a laundry list of all the deaths that have occurred in this "evil fucking room", he offers Mike a drink of some vintage spirit. He probably slipped him a mickey. Nonetheless, Mike insists on staying in the room, and lasting til the morn. Mr. Olin is so pissed off and says "Damn it to hell" in a way only Mr. Jackson can pull off.

A whole bunch of strange things begin to happen, while Mike is sippin on his sizzurp. The clock radio begins the countdown from an hour, he begins to see the ghosts of the 1408 club, the ghost of his father and his sick daughter, who is also dead. The window falls on his hand a breaks it, there is a phantom axe murderer who looks like Mike Myers of Halloween fame. In an attempt to escape to the next room, Mike climbs out the window and onto a ledge almost falls and then recovers like a champ...Tommy Pickles style. When he gets back in and checks the map, 1408 is the only room in the hotel. I lose interest.

He goes through flash backs of his daughter's illness and he gets all guilty.
The room turns into an icebox where his heart used to be.
Mike is still drinking the roofies cognac VSOP.
He video chats with his wife, who calls the cops. When they talk again, the cops are in an empty 1408. The apocalypse happens in the room. It made me thing of the scene in Macbeth where the king dies and the world shakes.

Okay so the surfing thing just came full circle, Mike wiped out wakes up in the hospital, the estranged wife is there. This whole scene was all a dream from Word Up magazine. Mike and Lily go out to dinner and he's drinking tequila. I checked the info and there's still another twenty minutes left, so there is another twist coming. And Mike is still dreaming. I kind of feel bad because he wrote the whole book that would save him...in. his. dream. Fuck his life. The room goes from tundra to charred remains. Mike is hatching a scheme to escape.

With just under four minutes left in his hour, Katie, the dead daughter shows up and disintegrates in his arms. The clock radio resets itself for the hour and he can choose to relive it again or to hang himself. The hotel operator refers to this hanging as an express check out system. I laughed so hard, I farted. Mike is back in the real world and makes a bottle bomb of the roofies cognac. Firemen save him, he and Lily get back together. She wants to get rid of all the clothes from the fire. Mike takes out the tape recorder, and tells her to throw the rest away. He presses play, the whole exchange between him and Katie is on there. Lily hear it, drops the box, he smiles forbodingly. FIN.

This movie wasn't bad at all. I'll give it a 3.5

Dix Du Jour: Cartoons I Love

1. Phineas and Ferb
2. Ni Hao, Kai Lan
3. Spongebob Squarepants
4. Fantastic Max
5. Smurfs
6. The Magic School Bus
7. George and Martha
8. Chowder
9. Scooby Doo [This includes all the shows in the series]
10. Hey Arnold

Honorable Mention:
Ahhh! Real Monsters, Fairly Oddparents, Doug, Ren and Stimpy, Rocky and Bullwinkle

Kiddie TMZ!

I Forgot How Hectic New York City Gets After A Snow Storm

I've only been away from the city for about two weeks, and I often forget how crazy things can get. I should have known how my Thursday night was going to wind up solely based on my train ride in.


My cousin/child Stephanie was heading downtown to her school to work on a project, and I decided I would go with her. Nothing out of the usual. Once the train went like 2 stops, we looked over to the left and saw a girl eating a ?sandwich? like it was a banana. Now if you have NEVER seen this, it is quite phenomenal thing. The chewing wasn't any better. She seemed to be chewing in tune to a song named "Welcome Home Kelli". Stephanie and I continued to shoot the shit about life, and the topic of names of our future children. Anyone who has said they never thought about the names of their future children is a lie in hell, but I digress. So there we were, exchanging baby name ideas, and this woman gives me an up down like no other, and I gave her an over dramatic but totally necessary killer look back. Apparently, this was hysterical to see me do, because Stephanie was laughing like she just saw Scarlet taking a tumble.



The night progressed swimmingly and we went to Stephanie's school so she could work on a project. I would like to shout out all the fashion students. Not only ois what they do very technical, its hard. At approximately 1:00 am EST, we left her campus to go home, and hopped in a cab. Now, it was not necessary to take a cab. We could have hopped on the train, and be home with time to spare by the time "dis shit right here" happened.
The driver pulled up behind her car and I used my debit card to pay the fare. It was approved, and I told him I didn't need a reciept. He told me, the "reciept looks funny" and for us to stay and wait for him to get confirmation that the fare was in fact paid. We waited. And waited. And waited. It was late and we got out the car. As I walked to the curb, the cab driver followed me and grabbed my arm and my purse. To make a long story less dramatic we were in the street fighting this man, the cops were called and my whole night went to shit. Did I mention it was only Thursday?


I thought that my Friday couldn't get any worse, and it didn't. But it came a little too close for my liking. The first thing I did was head to Chipotle because it is my crack. Then I went to INGLOT to purchase the new makeup I desperately needed. I purchased an eye shadow freedom system, which I am proud to say was a good investment. I can now fix my face to look extra fierce. I mosied my way from INGLOT and my only intention was to go see Percy Jackson, the ONLY thing I was looking forward to, and got heckled into buying a ticket to Dangerfield's. 


This was the night I found out that I truly hate Times Square. It's infested with hoodrats....and their kicks. Unfortunately, it took Ugg boots to make them appear less birdish. I let this slide because I was way too excited for my own good to see what I thought was going to be the best movie EVER. As usual, I was disappointed. Me, disappointed? Who knew. Whoever wrote the screenplay for The Lightning Thief definitely didn't plan to film a sequel. They left out the crucial part of the plot that strings them all together. I was so sad, I had to eat my feelings in sushi, and so at midnight, I made a trip to Planet Sushi to satisfy my craving. Speaking of sushi, my new favorite condiment is spicy mayo, which is weird because black people don't usually like mayonnaise. It takes my sushi high to a WHOLE NEW LEVEL. 


After that, my weekend got pretty lame. I spent the rest of it being a lazy house cat, no unlike my own cat. Somehow, I mustered up the energy to blog after a five day hiatus. Hopefully this week will be chock full o' tasty bits that make you feel better because you aren't living my life! 

Give Me Face!

I think this point has been blatantly obvious since the late 1990s, but reality television is intensely addicting. This week there was a slight change in my sleeping pattern, causing me to stay up until about seven in the morning. Now knowing me, sleep is probably the one thing I can do better than anyone else, simply because I am a lazy bones. I wish the world would see that I am not lazy, I am in fact resting up for my thirties, but I don’t see that happening.

Although I am a lover of cartoons, I have taken some time out from my animated roots and have spent countless hours loving reality television. Just in case you have been living under a rock for the past year or so, the baby making business is BOOMING. Who cares if obnoxiously sized families are eating through the world’s already limited resources? I sure as hell don’t because it makes for some good television. Most recently, I have taken a liking to the Duggar family…again. My relationship with the Duggars began sometime in 2007. That was when there were only 15 Duggars. However tonight, there is the delivery of the 19^th Duggar baby, and I could not be more excited…for all the wrong reasons.

The Duggars are a conservative Christian family. All the kids are home schooled. The girls don’t wear bikinis, or pants. They all dress in super essential basics. In theory, this is ideal. They want people to pay attention to their countenance. We can be thankful that they have fabulous genes, because I do not think this would fly so well had they been ugly and needed brand names to make up for their imperfections. But if I had to be reborn into a different family, it’s a toss up between the Kardashians and the Duggars. They spend their time driving across the country, doing all sort of fun things like being in plays and whatnot. One of my favorite things about the show is that we get little trivia tidbits through out the show. Things like they love pickles, or that if all of her pregnancies were consecutive, Momma Duggar would be pregnant for 13 years or something like that.

For the most part the Duggar kids are normal and healthy, but now I’m beginning to wonder when they are going to get a little spice in their lives. I really want to see a baby with like six fingers or something. On the last episode, Michelle Duggar, the woman who has delivered every single one of the Duggar children through her Super Cervix, announces that she is pregnant. She thought that she couldn’t possibly be pregnant because she’s in a later stage of life than most women who have babies. Actually, the youngest Duggar, Jordyn still has a loose neck when the pregnancy is announced.

Michelle Duggar is actually very cool. Sarah Palin wises she was maverick like this lady. Did you know that only three weeks after giving birth, PREMATURELY, to baby 19, she was at a rally to ban alcohol from local convenience stores. Well actually, I don’t agree with this, but the point is, she’s a little Viking.

Another guilty pleasure of mine is drag queens. Obviously, RuPaul’s drag race is the complete essential. If I were every half the woman RuPaul was, I’d die happy. Basically, the queens compete in weekly challenges, you know same old thing. They make their own costumes and go from men to women and are judged by a panel of judges. But it gets better, the queens in the bottom two get to battle it out one last time to save themselves. They get to lip sync. Is that not the best idea ever? Could you imagine if the world’s problem were solved by a no holds barred lip sync battle? I would only perform Mariah Carey songs. And maybe a Celine Dion ballad. The hoodrat in me would prefer a little bit of Mary J. Blige, and more specifically, Real Love. Anyway a new season began last night. I wasn’t all that impressed with the queens. My favorite got eliminated. But my next favorite is Jessica Wild, who is Puerto Rican, from San Juan. I hope she wins it all.

They even have an after show called “Untucked”. I need this person to script my life. My new secondary goal in life may be to become a Gay Icon, because that seems to work out well.