...way out on the corner of fucked up and evil...

Aww fuck, you guys, I think I just permanantly destroyed Batman Begins for myself by watching it right after I watched Breakfast on Pluto. And for once it's completely my own fault, because I've seen both of them multiple times so I can't claim I was tricked into watching or anything. Now every time Dr Crane gases anyone, I keep seeing that scene from BoP where he imagines himself as an undercover counter-terrorist agent, complete with black PVC minidress and flashing a bright yellow bra, and he neutralizes all the bombers by spraying Chanel perfume* in their eyes, and it just destroys me.

In other news, I have decided to invent some kind of coolness scale where characters are awarded points based on the liklihood of them karate-chopping a midget. It'll look something like this:

Karate-chopping a midget: 10 coolpoints
Doing harm to a midget other than by karate-chopping it: 5 coolpoints
Not doing anything mean to a midget: 0 coolpoints
A midget karate-chops you: minus 10,000 coolpoints

I decided to test it out on a random selection and it works pretty well, as shown below:

Jack Bauer: would karate-chop a midget: 10 points.
Sweeney Todd: would cut a midget's throat and make it into pie: 5 points
Al Swearengen: as above, except replace "make it into pie" with "feed to Mister Wu's piggies": 5 points
Edward James Olmos: would shout or glare at a regular midget; only karate-chops midgets if they are Cylons: 7.5 points
Methos: doesn't know karate, but from a moral perspective, would have no problem karate-chopping a midget: 10 points, because he can always learn later.
The Dave: unable to bring himself to harm a midget: 0 points.
Giles: would karate-chop a midget, then fire-bomb its house, but only if the midget really pushed him to it: 10 points
Nathan Petrelli: no qualms about karate-chopping a midget whatsoever: 10 points
Angela Petrelli: would belittle the midget so much it karate-chopped itself: 10 points
Peter Petrelli: gets karate-chopped by the midget. Everyone laughs. Minus 10,000 points.
Agent Sands: if he still has eyes, karate-chops the midget; if not, shoots the midget after locating it by the sound of it's tiny midget feet: 10 points, because the intention is there if not the physical ability.
Moominpapa: doesn't know karate, and anyway has tiny Moomin arms unsuitable for midget-chopping. Would probably write a chapter in his Memoirs about how he karate-chopped it anyway: 5 points for inventiveness.
Mark Cohen from RENT: gets karate-chopped by the midget. Minus 10,000 points.
Idina Menzel, in anything: karate-chops that midget and makes it cry little midget tears. 10 points.
Akio Ohtori: karate-chops the midget, steals its fine midget hos, then runs the midget down in the Akiocar. 10 points.
Stringer Bell: karate-chops the midget only if economically viable. Otherwise, arranges to have it gunned down in a drive-by. 7.5 points.
Oogie Boogie: karate-chops the midget, sings a song about it: 10 points
Ben Hawkins: karate-chops a midget, spends three episodes angsting about it. 9.5 points, as he gets half a point deduction for angst.
Don Eppes: pre-The Bunk, karate-chops that midget and takes a suspension. Post-The Bunk, tries to work out his differences with the midget, then gets Lou Diamond Phillips to karate-chop it for him instead. 7.5 points.
Harvey Dent: gets karate-chopped by a midget, cries like a bitch. Ditto Two-Face, but with half as many tears. Minus 20,000 points because both personalities fail.

I call it the Froodilicus Scale of Karate-Chopped Midgets. Obviously you can't rely on it entirely - for example, Brennan would have no problem karate-chopping a midget whereas The Dave would, but clearly The Dave is clearly cooler than Brennan. But as a rough guide, it's pretty accurate.

On a completely unrelated note, I'm thinking of buying a new storage unit as the number of books, DVDs and random crap in my house has once again reached critical mass. At the moment I am torn between this and this. On the one hand, the cabinet gives me much more storage space and as it's got glass shelves, I can put my models and suchlike in there and not have to worry about dusting them. On the other hand, it's white and white wooden furniture always makes me feel like I'm trapped in a John Hughes movie circa 1984. Comments? Suggestions?

Oh, and finally, and having nothing to do with anything discussed above: MOAR ZODIAC PORN PLZ. That is all.

*For the record, given that pretty much every Chanel product smells like catpiss, I think it would be very effective as a weapon used either by or against terrorists. I know if you sprayed it on me, I'd be too busy choking and retching to even think about blowing stuff up until I'd had a shower.

The Dark Knight, dudes! ( Read more... )

In other news, the Southernator and I celebrated Heathfest '08 with 10 Things I Hate About You and A Knight's Tale, the Southernator proved how much she fails at life by perving wrongly during TDK and forcing me to slap her, and also by not admitting the awesomeness of Numb3rs (another reason she has been removed from her position of power at the League of Hot) and we saw the WETA exhibition at the Royal Armouries and were confused by the random Poodle of Sauron armor. Also I totally broke my vow not to buy any more books or DVDs or random junk until such time as I have bought new shelves to hold them, and now I have to eat hobos for next two months. Fortunately they are drug-addled and easy to catch. I would like to add that really this is Snithy's fault, as she did not do as a true friend would and stop me, even after I graciously agreed to allow Robert Downey Junior be joint third with The Colin in the League of Hot. I even gave him his holy name - The Downey. I feel it says all that needs to be said.

Oh no, you guys, a terrible thing has happened! See, there I was, innocently enjoying a day filled with zombies and/or Cillian Murphy, minding my own business, not doing anything mean to anybody (for a change). And I'm about half-way through 28 Days Later, and part of me is enjoying the zombie monkey action while another part is wondering why Cillian Murphy insists on starring in films that, with the exception of Batman Begins, either suck or require him to be not-hot*.

And then. THEN! I realise that the evil Army dude who keeps zombies chained up in his garden, stupidly within reach of clean laundry, is Christopher... well, I can't remember how to spell his last name, but the Potato-Headed Doctor Who! And he's all, "Oh Cillian Murphy, I shall make you my own personal Boy Wench," and Cillian Murphy is all, "I would rather be stabbed in the throat with a PEN!" and then violence happens, and now my brain is all, "Dude, we should write some kind of Doctor Who/28 Days Later crossover with perhaps ADDED JACKSON RIPNER and inappropriately feminine scarves!" and I am entirely disgusted with myself.

Although not so disgusted that I didn't immediately go looking for such fic, and feel disappointed when I found none.

Oh, and also? The Wind That Shakes The Barley is SHIT! All of Ireland should be nuked in punishment for that film. Fuck you, Ireland, even Skeet Ulrich and JAMES REMAR cannot save you now.

*Please note, I am not denying that he was very pretty in Breakfast on Pluto, it's just that my own personal preference for Cillian Murphy does not extend to Fishnet Stockings Flavoured Cillian. Unless he gets it on with Dakin. That would be acceptable.

Getting Return To The Batcave on DVD may well be the best six quid I've spent in the last month. And I'm not just saying that because it has Jason Marsden in tights - although that is definately a contributing factor - or because he gets comedically injured every few scenes and has to go to the doctors looking all tousled and shirtless and pouty - although I would be lying if I claimed not to enjoy watching it. For anyone who has ever sat there and giggled over the old TV show with Adam West and Burt Ward, I urge you to watch this movie. And for those of you who haven't... watch it anyway, it's got Jason Marsden in tights.

Now, I'm off to watch Batman Begins, because after sitting through Intermission last night, I have a need to see Cillian Murphy being pretty again. Adieu, spacemonkeys.

SWAT is the cinematographic equivilent of the Reeses Peanut Butter Cup; sure, if that was all you ate, you'd eventually die of malnutrition, but damn if it isn;t just about the yummiest thing on the face of the earth. Colin Farrell being hot, kicking ass and having his trademark pointy hair, with side orders of Jeremy Renner and LL Cool J, topped off with Samuel L Jackson being awesome and French people being beaten up - it's pretty much the ultimate snack food... I mean movie.

Dissapointed with Intermission, though; I mean, Cillian Murphy and Colin Farrell in the same film should be a recipe for sexy Irish goodness, but the entire movie left me feeling kind of "meh". I suspect Colin's lack of hair contributed considerably to my low opinion.

Tigerland and Alexander are still awesome, and of course, A Home at the End of the World remains one of the most beautiful, moving, and altogether excellent films I have ever seen. Dallas Roberts is awesome, and should totally do more stuff; I was so excited when I saw him in the trailer for Walk the Line, and so gutted that he didn't have a bigger part. But then, I was busy being traumatised by Larry from Buffy playing Marshall Grant, so maybe I wouldn't have noticed.

I return!

After two weeks in a desolate wasteland of cardboard boxes, irate rabbit and total lack of an internet connection, I have at last managed to find my way home to Livejournal. You may all remove the black mourning bands from your arms now.

During my soujourn in the arid plains of Internyet*, I have had many adventures, mostly involving trips to the park accompanied by my nobel bunny companion (who, it transpires, likes to chase squirrels, thus proving my theory that he secretly believes he's a cat) and trips to the cinema with my no less nobel but somewhat less soft, fuzzy and strokable human friends.

Went to see Batman Begins, in which Liam Neeson is a bondage ninja, Cillian Murphy is pretty, Micheal Caine does not say "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!" (woe!), Morgan Freeman is awesome and Gary Oldman is... really skinny. And short. Also, Katie Holmes does not get shot in the back of the head with a nail gun, which is pretty much the only flaw in the entire film.

Did I mention that Liam Neeson was a ninja? That is so awesome. I'm going to get a little Ninja!Liam Neeson doll and make him wrestle in a homoerotic manner with fight my Jedi!Liam Neeson doll.

Afterwards, we were debating whether to watch Saw or Red Dragon, and we got to talking about the difference between horror movies that scare you in a fun, enjoyable way - like a rollercoaster - and horror movies that leave you a sweating, shivering nervous wreck who can't sleep for two days *cough*the Ring*cough*. Then Jess suggested Miss Congeniality 2...

Froodle: *laughter*
Jess: What?
Froodle: I'm sorry, it's just we're talking about movies that inspire fear and horror and you mention a Sandra Bullock film.
Alan: Well, she is horrifying.
Froodle: I didn't watch 28 Days Later when it first came out, despite everyone telling me it was awesome, because I got confused between it and a Sandra Bullock film called 28 Days.
Jess: I can't picture Sandra Bullock in a zombie movie...
Froodle: Are you kidding? Most nightmarish thing ever - instead of monkeys, a bunch of stupid hippies unleash the terror that is Sandra Bullock upon the world.
Alan: Everyone who exchanges bodily fluids with her becomes a talentless, irritating bint whose very presence makes any film fifty times more annoying than it already was.
Froodle: Oh God, the London underpass filled with hordes of slavering Sandra Bullock clones! Only Cillian Murphy can save us now!
Alan: Are you kidding? Fear gas is useless against the reality of a thousand Sandra Bullocks.
Froodle: He will trample her with his magical Fear Horse while shielding himself from her evil with his Potato Sack of Immunity!

*This is a pune, or a play on words.