Give me a 9... Give me an 0... Give me a 2...

Hey HEY Hey.

I hope you understood how the inflection of that was supposed to go, because t'was supposed to be sassy.

So whoop-dee-whoop it's September, traditionally, when new shows premiere and all that junk.

Every year, I give two new shows a chance. This year, my bets are/were hedged on:

A.) Hole In The Wall - Yep. It's exactly what it says. Contestants stand on a big foam platform, a wall comes at them with a predetermined shape cut out that the contestant needs to try and assimilate their body to, or else they're dunked in lava.

Or something like that. To the surprise of no one, it's inspired by a Japanese Game Show of roughly the same name, although I'd have to bet the words "Super" and "Happy" and
"Fun" are also somewhere in the Japanese title.

Anyballs... I'm mainly watching it to see this one contestant who was featured on the promos - a hefty, hefty black lady, who, as soon as she saw the hole she'd have to fit through (one far smaller and more contorted than she could ever hope to fit through), exclaimed, "Dayumn Dayumn Dayumn!!!" AMAZING!

So that's one...

2.) The NEW 90210

Yep. Saw it last night. Meh.

The main reason that I watched it was because I was a super fan of it back in the early 90's, and hastily discontinued my watching it as soon as Shannen Doherty departed, thinking it was donesville. Well I was wrong about that. It lasted for quite some time after that, boasting future double Oscar-winner Hilary Swank, to boot. But it was never the same without ShanDoh...

Anyballs, last night, lured like a moth to a flame by the return of Shannen Doherty to Beverly Hills High like so, so many others, I tuned in.

The premise: Rob Estes (who's inching towards busted, sorry to say) and Lori Laughlin (who I don't think has ever NOT played a MILF in her entire career) are moving their daughter Annie (played by Torontonian Shenae Grimes... who we can only assume is directly related to prominent travel correspondent Judy Grimes... ) and their adopted black son Dixon (who played some dude named Tristan somethingorother who was on The Wire and will also be starring alongside Dakota Fanning and Jennifer Hudson in The Secret Life of Bees, premiering RIGHT HERE at the Toronto Film Festival!) migrate from Kansas City to Beverly Hills to live with their grandmother, played by Jessica "Lucille Bluth" Walters - a boozing, cougar-esque former film star.

So yes, once again, it's bumbling country mice venturing into the glamorous and treacherous big city. Drama and life lessons ensue.

The show seems very focused on Annie... who I guess would be the "Brenda" of this go around. And thus far her trek seems very akin to Lindsay "Cady Herron" Lohan from Mean Girls. She arrives at the school, and one of the first people she meets is arty weirdo Silver (a-la Janis in Mean Girls) who she eventually ditches for queen bee Naomi (a-la Regina in Mean Girls) and wouldn't you know it... arty weirdo Silver and queen bee Naomi used to be best friends in a past life but had a huge falling out and both have axes to grind... blah blah blah SO MEAN GIRLS!!!

Anyballs... some thoroughly ridiculous shit happens... Naomi has a 'not-so-sweet 16 party'... which is preposterous, as the actress who plays Naomi - AnnaLynne McCord - isn't in any remote realm light years away from being able to play 15... for real, the bitch looks older than Jessica Walter... and Jessica Walter is playing a Nana, y'all...

Also, at one point, Annie goes on a date with some outrageously dreamy guy who's in the school musical with her named - predictably - Ty... on a private plane... to San Francisco. Yes.

Then when Lori "Aunt Becky" Loughlin busts her on it, she's like "Mom! That's what kids here do! They go to San Fracisco on private planes!" Awful. Awful awful awful.

And anutha thang - since when did kids get computers attached to their desks?!?! Maybe that's just a Bev Hills thing BUT STILL.

Anyballs... Time has been kind to Jennifer "Kelly Taylor" Garth - she looks great. She's now a guidance councillor at Bev Hills High, after the fashion industry proved too superficial for her - a situation that many have found themselves in, no doubt. She's totally going to bounce on top one of the teachers, if he doesn't bounce on top of the actress bitch who's addicted to pills first.

Speaking of actress bitches who are/were addicted to pills, I'm not going to pretend that I didn't involuntarily squeal with delight when Brenda appeared. I felt things come full circle, and now I have my peace with 90210. Because I'm sure as balls not watching that swill again.

Anyballs... tonight - THERE'S A TRANNY ON 90210!!!!!!!

TEAM ISIS!!!

Until tomorrow,

--- Aj

Remember when I used to blog?

So hey.

Long time.

I know.

Y'see, proving that birds of a feather really do flock together, much like Rosie O'Donnell - I decided to take the month of August off from the blog. Unlike Rosie, I failed to mention that I was... so to anyone who thought that I was dead, I'm very sorry. Because I'm SO not dead. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact... but anyballs...

Hope your August was cool. Mine was alright. Just spent time relishing the dog days of summer, mostly - of course, relishing the dog days of summer Andrew Johnston-stylez, means spending little-if-no time lapping up rays of the smiling August sun NOR does it include using the polarizing condiment relish... so I guess it's not really relishing at all... but still... it was nice.

Anyballs, just as the kids have gone back to school today, as have I to this blog. So I'm back. Full force - FULL FORCE!

WHAT a month it's been in the news, huh? Like big, Big, BIG shit hit the fan over the month of August '08. So, as a semi-triumphant return to blogging of sorts, I thought I'd tidily round up the biggest and baddest news stories that made the headlines in August...

1.) SLUMBERING DUDE BEHEADED ON GREYHOUND BUS!!!

Wooo-howdy this one was a doozy. How explosively did everyone crap their pants when they read this one?

The long and short of it: At approximately 8:30 PM Central time just West of Winnipeg, an unassuming 22-year-old carnival worker by the name of Tim McLean was unexpectedly and gruesomely attacked by a previously though-to-be unassuming 40-year-old newspaper delivery person by the name of Vince Weiguang Li.

According to reports, all was silent on the western front until - out of nowhere - this stocky Asian man (Weiguang Li) very purposefully got up and started hacking the dormant McLean with a butcher knife, completely oblivious to the panicking passengers around him - all of which managed to evacuate the bus. Sometimethereafter, Weiguang Li tried to exit the bus, McLean's severed head in hand, but the passengers - who had somehow managed to grow a pair by this point - barricaded him in the bus, threatening him with hammers and wrenches on loan from a passing tow truck they'd flagged down.

By the time that authorities arrived, Weiguang Li was madly pacing up and down the aisle of the bus, saying that he "would have to stay on the bus forever". Obviously that didn't happen, and the crazy bitch was arrested with very little protest.

Appearing in court the day after (pictured), he kept his head bowed, saying nothing, and only nodding ever-so-slightly when the judge asked him if he this was because he was retaining his right to silence. The only time he does go on record saying something is his next court appearance, when he utters "please kill me".

Here's what we know:

- Tim McLean was a hockey trophy-case short of being the quintessential all-Canadian boy next door, which made his passing that much more tragic and that much more newsworthy on the international landscape. For realsies, I think half the reports I read about this dealt with the incident and the other half dealt with the fact that something that happened in Canada was making international news. Ha-cha-cha.

- Vince Weiguang Li had no previous record of violence or mental illness prior to this... but he sure as balls does now. Apparently he was just a very quiet-if-unfriendly solitary immigrant dude who delivered papers and stocked shelves at Walmart or some junk. There's been some talk about him going missing for a few days before this happened, even spending some time in a mental health facility. Anyballs - he's now officially been classified as a paranoid schizophrenic... which means that he'd constantly hear voices in his head that would dictate things for him to do or threaten him... a lot of the time, this manifests itself violently, and more often than not, in suicide, because the affected can't handle the constant inner-torment... and, from what I've been hearing in the mental health community (because I totally hang out in those circles, motherfuckers... read: my mom's a psychiatric nurse and she told me this), that's what's likely to happen to him. Anyballs - his next court date is scheduled for September 8th.

- All sorts of security measures have been proposed to ensure this doesn't happen again - everything from Greyhound barring carry-on luggage to knife registry. YES, KNIFE REGISTRY. Okay... not to belittle this gruesome, gruesome incident and by no means to be insensitive to the deceased... but I think more people are killed by falling asteroids than beheaded on buses. I think this is a bit of an exceptional circumstance. That said, I'm sure as balls not travelling by bus anytime soon, so I guess I'm just a big fat hypocrite. Que Sera Sera.

2.) CHINA SHUNS ITS SNAGGLE-TOOTHED DAUGHTERS!!!

... As if feet binding wasn't enough? Gah.

So, the Olympics came, and the Olympics went. Butterface'd swimmers won medals and journalists protesting China's treatment of Tibet went mysteriously missing.

But the MOST buzz-worthy event to come from Beijing '08, at least in my eyes? That Milli Vanilli fiasco from the opening ceremonies.

The long & short of it: There was a nation-wide search in China (talk about looking for a needle in a hay-stack! Zing.) to look for a girl with a perfect voice to sing a freshly-penned song entitled "Hymn to the Motherland" (which kinda sounds like the title of a Nazi anthem in its blinding grandeur, but whatever) when they finally scrounged up the golden pipes of Yang Peiyi (pictured, right). Rehearsals were going swimmingly until the political powers that be got their panties in a bunch over her rather unpretty snaggle teeth, and at the last minute, replaced with her with a considerably more telegenic counterpart named Lin Miaoke (the bitch who looks plucked straight out of the Chinese chorus of the "It's A Small World" ride at Disney World, pictured to the left).

Here's what we know: Chalk this up to the consorted effort by the Chinese government to gentrify the country in time for the Olympics... On top of rigid anti-spitting laws, mandatory single-file lineup laws and compulsory English lessons for anyone remotely mercantile, it turns out that snaggle teeth aren't beneficial for China's "national interest". Isn't this EXACTLY what happened back in 1990 in the C&C Music Factory's smash-hit "Everybody Dance Now"? How Martha "It's Raining Men" Wash sang the vocals, but in the video, they substituted her for the considerably more-attractive lip synch stylings of Zelma Davis??? And then Martha Wash sued - and won - and then appeared in C&C Music Factory's subsequent hits??? Yeah. It's exactly like that. Except unlike Yang and Lin, I don't think Martha needed to go back to her job assembling Bratz dolls in a sweatshop. Again, Que Sera Sera.

3.) BARACK OBAMA SELECTS A VICE-PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE...!!!

... and it's not Hilary...

... or Oprah...

... or even Jackee Harry...

Balderdash.

4.) MCCAIN SELECTS A VICE-PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE...!!!

And it's a chick!!! Holy fuck!!! Suck it, Obama!!!

And moreover, it's Tina Fey. Holy balls.

No.

As the world at large knows by this point, her name is Sarah Palin - she's the Governor (or rather, Governess) of Alaska, she's pro-life, pro-gun, pro-anti-gay-marriage, soon to be pro-raping the arctic in search of glorious, glorious oil and about a decade shy of being half McCain's age. For realsies... don't they look like the oddest little May/December romance? Yuck.

Anyballs... isn't this just like the Dr. Suess tome Wacky Wednesday sprung to life? The Democrats choose a surly white dude for Veep and the Republican's choose a ballbustin' broad. What's next?! People wearing shoes on their head and hats on their feet?!?!?! AHHHH!!!

In other news... the McCain campaign musn't be wise to the facebook machine yet. Palin's daughter Bristol (classy name) is pregnant and has ample photographic evidence online that suggests she's an underage drinker. Also, apparently she supported a party in Alaska that's been aiming to separate it from the US. Yeah. FUN!

Finally...

The most important and savoury news item that passed during my hiatus...

5.) "HAIRSPRAY" STAR AND "AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL" ALUM BRAWL AT AIRPORT!!!

HOLY BALLS! I leaped out of my skin when this item broke.

The long and short of it: Although details remain scant, early on in August, a real-life edition of Celebrity Family Feud erupted in an airport on the Isle of Turks & Caicos... only instead of beating each other with the most commonly said answer to a general interest survey, they actually used their fists. Apparently the Blonsky family were taking up an exorbitant amount of seats (which, considering their ample physical girth, doesn't seem surprising... but instead, they had their luggage up on it), and refused to move it when a member of that skank bitch from ANTM Cycle 9 Bianca's presumably skanky Klan came up and asked them to. The Blonsky's finally conceited, when someone from The Golden (that's Bianca's last name... because she be classy, y'all) family remarked "I don't want to sit next to no white bitch" and sparring ensued.

Here's what we know: When the dust settled, several people had to be hospitalized - to the surprise of no one, really, as I could see both sides carrying shanks, or at least knowing how to fashion a shank easily - and charges were filed: Both Bianca and Nikki were charged with "bodily harm" while Nikki's father Carl was charged with "grievous bodily harm". Both Bianca and Nikki were released on bail, but Nikki's father Carl remains in custody until a court date sometime this fall.

You couldn't even make this shit up if you tried. I've been waiting with baited breath to hear that this was instead some sort of reality show prank or something, but no - the shit is real! I don't actually think I could ask for a better combination of D Listers to engage in something like this EVER... well... maybe Brigitte Nielson and Clay Aiken or something... that'd be pretty awesome, too...

Whatevs.

Anyway.

More tomorrow.

Good to see you again!!!

--- Aj

Billy Fuccillo, where have you been all my life?

Hey cookies...

Happy Monday to you and yours.

How was your weekend? Mine was spent with me and mine, as opposed to you and yours, of course. That's right - I went back to Brockville for a familyola reunionthing that was both amusing and informative... I say informative in that it was disclosed that one of my aunts (who shall remain nameless... ... ...) BREASTFED HER KIDS UNTIL THEY WERE UPWARDS TO AND INCLUDING (BUT NOT LIMITED TO) 5 YEARS OLD!!!!

Yeah.

There's a rule of thumb that if you can ask for it, you're too old for it. So, in theory, that could mean two... But fucko - by FIVE, not only can you speak, but you likely have political opinions... fuck, you probably have a list of favourite non-fiction novels by that age!!! NUTS!!!

Further amusement came after my Saturday morning treadmilling, standing in the kitchen where my mother happened to have the local oldies station on... When, y'see, following Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" an extended radio commercial by none other than one Mr. Billy Fuccillo floated o'er the airwaves...

Billy Fuccillo is a bit of a legend in the Eastern Ontario/Upstate New York region... his commercials for the Fuccillo 'Automall' - featuring his signature pronunciation and delivery of the word "HUUUGE!" - are the stuff that dreams are made of. Observe:

Yep. In many ways, I feel as if I was raised by Billy Fuccillo... he certainly feels like part of my family, anyway.

I can remember back in University, during on the sketch shows that I did, there was potentially the most entertaining sketch ever created entitled "Kill Billy Fuccillo" - a takeoff of the "Kill Bill" movies that were ever-so-popular at the time. Yeah. Basically, the sketch revolved around Uma "The Bride" Thurman going after Billy Fuccillo and his criminally insane deals and steals on Hyundai's. I think that was pretty much all there was to it. I can't imagine what MORE there would have been to it than that...

Anyballs... fun times. Also fun times? TOMORROW NIGHT:

Yep. TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW!!! It's, also, going to be HUUUGE!!!

I'm not leaving you with that, though...

Today, the people in my office challenged each other to think of the funniest name we'd ever heard. Robert "Bob" Lawblaw (Bob Lawblaw... say it! SAY IT!) won out, but my offering was a close fourth*... (*fourth was last place. fuck.)

Mine: SHEILA CHOAD.

YES. AHHHH!!! I think it's the funniest name EVER! I said that it was the name of the regional manager of the DMV in Brockville - but I was TOTALLY bullshitting... it was the name of a character that Maya Rudolph played in a sketch called "Sheila Choad's Los Angeles Face" - a mock-talk show discussing the joys of botox (click the link to view... it won't let me embed... and you will WANT to see this):

That was for all of you stay-at-home non-moms out there...

Anyballs... UNTIL TOMORROW -

--- Aj

Since I've Been Go-ooo-one...

... YOU can breathe for the first time...

Not really.

Anyway - HI!!! Sorry I've been so MIA of late. Various reasons. Mostly good. But that's a story for another time...

So what can I possibly tell you? It's raining like cats and dogs here in the T Dot. I'm currently sitting at my desk, presiding over whatever business it is that I preside over, listening to Melissa Etheridge's Greatest Hits like a sorghum-raising, Simone de Beauvoir-quoting lesbo (of note about Melissa Etheridge: her songs kinda sound the same) and watching oodles of obnoxiously precocious child actors and their equally obnoxious stage parents sashay their way past my office door - y'see, as I mention on here from time to time, I work at the Mirvish building, for a company that handles the Mirvish real estate, um... 'ventures', we'll call them... and down the hall from my office is the rehearsal hall, where auditions are often held... this week, they're seeing candidates for the Von Trapp children (in the upcoming Mirvish production of "The Sound of Music" - CAN YOU NOT FUCKING WAIT?!?! YES!!!) - and from what I can gather, they must be seeing the younger ones of the set - so, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta and of course, Gretl - because these bitches look youuung.

Anyballs - a lot of these kids are in for some searing disappointment. Anytime I see one with red hair, it's like "you've got red hair, you won't be a Von Trapp kid."... conversely, anytime I see one that looks remotely 'exotic', they're ruled out as well - basically, unless you look like you could be humming a Nazi anthem whilst you make schnitzel, FOR. GET. IT.

In semi-related news: I saw Mamma Mia! this past Thursday night. Two thumbs DOWN! Gah - I was not amused. But really, I don't know what I was expecting - I mean, it was a farkin' jukebox musical featuring the songs of ABBA adapted from a cheesy-as-hell yet thoroughly entertaining stage show.

Well, strike that, I do know what I was expecting: Hairspray. Which I had pendulous trepidations about... in terms of how effective it would be transferring to the big screen... and then -SHAZAM- it turned out to be fucking amazing. I guess I thought that of Mamma Mia, too. Nope. The whole thing seemed kind of kids-film-esque to me - hokey and edge-less. The text was stale (read: your mom will LOVE this shit... she'll think it's the funniest, most outrageous romp she's been on since "Monster In Law"), there were far too many 'stand and deliver' scenes (in which people sing songs to each other in dead earnestness as if they were exchanging dialogue, resulting in them looking like crazy people) and generally outside of the rules of the contemporary, successful movie musical. Not to mention that there was this insane chorus of Greek islanders that drove me NUTS, pictured in the background dancing b'hind Meryl & co...

Had Meryl Streep not rocked out with her sizable cock out, it would have been absolutely unwatchable. Like, had it been Melanie Griffith or Goldie Hawn or another similar actress of a certain age, it would have been one gigantic pile of barf, but Streep weaved her signature brand of magic. She seemed like she was REALLY having fun and really relishing the experience, which was nice. And she can definitely sing - unlike SOME people I know (*cough*Pierce Brosnan*end cough*)... yeah... regarding: Pierce Brosnan... they might as well have cast Leonard Cohen in the role - BITCH CANNOT DO ANYTHING THAT REMOTELY RESEMBLES THE WORD 'SING'...

And anutha thang!!!: I hate to play logistics police (not really... I actually fuckin' love it!), but the film was rife with age and timing inaccuracies. It's made clear that Amanda "Sophie" Seyfried is 20 years old... Meryl "Donna" Streep is pushin' 60... this would mean she had Sophie in the late-late-LATE 30's... which is a little late in life to be musing whimsically about summer loves in one's diary-ladies, am I right? Anyballs... that's about it...

In other news: I'd be remiss if I didn't make mention of the passing of Estelle "Sophia Petrillo" Getty... I think we're all torn up about it... she was a woman who lived her life committed to two things: tellin' it like it is and being an active senior. Let us have one for Estelle, one mo' time...

Sad. Sad sad sad sad sad.

Don't worry - I'm not about to leave you on that note: here's a clip of Alaina "Rose" Hall, Jackee "Sandra" Harry and Marla "Mary" Gibbs who, thankfully are all still very much with us, from 227 serenading Sherman "George Jefferson" Helmsley with a cover of the Pointer Sisters' "Jump"...

OH - one more thing...

LESS THAN A WEEK AWAY!!! AHHHHH!!!

--- Aj

I'M ALIVE!!!

Yep.

I most certainly am. Although you wouldn't know it from the frequency, or rather infrequency, that I've been a'bloggin'...

So where have I been? What have I been doing? Why I haven't I been blogging? When have I been doing all of these non-blogging things? All good questions - each and every last one of them.

Perhaps we'll never know...

One question, however, that I DO rather gleefully have the answer to, however, is what would happen if you combined these two things:


What is the sum?

THIS is the sum...

Yep.

Horrifying. Actually kind of disgusting. Oh well.

I'm going to see an advance screening of Mamma Mia tonight, and am all too excited about it. I'd say expect a full-tilt spoiler of it tomorrow, but the entire thing is kind of spoiled if you've remotely seen the stage show, which approximately 15 million people worldwide have (which, by the way, is more plentiful than the world's Jewish population, which, at last count, clocked in at a measley 13.3 million... only 300,000 of which are in Canada... yep... the amount of people that have witnessed live stage antics set to the music of ABBA outweigh the amount of people in the world who subscribe to the philosophy that Christ didn't come again, having sex through a hole in a sheet and brisket. BRISKET!!!) then you'll easily know that everyone fucking gets married in the end and they sing us out to "Dancing Queen". Whattheballsever... I loves me some Meryl Streep more than I loves me some life...

So that's exciting...

What else is exciting...

OHHHHH yes. Just under two weeks. Hold onto your hats.

'Til T'morrow...

--- Aj

A very "Wanted" review... UNABASHED SPOILERS WITHIN!!!

Really? That's the best I could come up with? Yep. Yeppy yep yep yep.

You know how sometimes you just get a craving for something specific? Like something, if you close your eyes and expend an iota of concentration on, you can practically taste it? For me, those cravings are often chocolate, olives, brie cheese, tzatziki sauce and cinematic instances of Angelina Jolie kicking ass like it's never been kicked before.

So... last night, experiencing a jones-ing for the latter, I took in the latest action-packed Angelina Jolie vehicle, "Wanted". And what a roller coaster ride it was...

Warning: if you don't want to soak in blatant, unabashed spoilers, avert your gaze/gays NOW...

The first thing that struck me is how specific the previews are for movies. In that, the previews for the last movie I saw - Sex & The City: The Movie - were for absolute estro-swill like He's Just Not That Into You and Sisterhood of Travelling Pants 2: The Womanhood of the Venturing Schpants/Jorts... the previews for Wanted were for all for skid-mark sporting dudes - shit starring Shia LaBeouf like Power Guns 2: The Wreckoning or GUNCARS! or something that I would have 0.0 interest in seeing...

Anyballs... we start off at an office party celebrating the bosses' birthday - she's a rotund lady named Janice, very reminiscent of 'Mimi' from Drew Carey. We're treated to an expository voice over by the character of Wesley, played by star-on-the-rise James McAvoy. He talks about how similar his day-to-day existence is and how miserable that makes him.

Apparently he suffers from anxiety attacks - where his heart starts to race, his face gets all red-like, and he processes climactic moments in slow motion.

Cut to: a drugstore, Wesley's getting his prescription meds filled alongside his best friend (who just so happens to be fucking his girlfriend, a fact that he's all too aware of, but meh, what's down-on-his-luck Wesley gonna do about it?) Enter Angelina "Fox" Jolie - who, throughout the entire film, looks exactly like the photo to the left. I'm not kidding - THIS JOLIE WOMAN DOES NOT HAVE AN OFF SWITCH.

She barely speaks in this movie, and when she does, that's the only time she's not perched statuesquely, pouting ominously-yet-seductively. It was amazing to see how many scenes she'd just be looming in the background, observing the scene yet not contributing anything whatsoever other than a static, ominous pout. SHE IS ALWAYS ON. It's amazing.

Even when she fought, she'd still retain her pout. It would turn into 'ass-kicking-pout-face', as per evidenced below:

Yeah. Anyballs. Angelina pops up beside him at the pharmacy counter and tells him that his father, one of the world's greatest assassins, was killed today and the man who killed him - Mr. X - is coming after him. Said Mr. X happens to be right around the corner down the feminine hygiene aisle, and just like that - a good-old-fashioned gun-fight ensues. The Jole-ster manages to finagle Wesley out of there with her into her sexy red car, and a good-old-fashioned car chase ensues.

Blah blah blah blah blah guns guns guns cars cars cars, chase-y chase-y, shoot-y shoot-y, car flip-y into bus, bus crush-y police blockade, the dust settles and Angie and Wesley are still alive, the end. Wesley wakes up in a warehouse where he's surrounded by a cast of colourful characters, and receives the information that he's the son of one of the greatest assassins in the world and destined to follow in his footsteps. Wesleys' all "my father left my mother and I when I was 7 years old" and starts to have an anxiety attack - when the ringleader of these colourful characters, played by Morgan Freeman in what must be his 1,000,000th wise, reverent black man role, tells him that his anxiety attacks are misdirected adrenaline that, when harnessed correctly, would make him a superhuman killer.

Morgan then explains the back story - they're this covenant of assassins carrying out fate's work called "The Fraternity" and up until recently, his father was one of them - the best, until he was killed by a rebel "Fraternity" member who is picking them off, one by one. The only one who can avenge his father's death is him and this is his destiny, blah blah blah. Wesley's still not sold - he goes back to his day job, realizes that his father's substantial assets had been transferred to him (to the tune of 3 hundred million dollars) and starts to acquire his taste for life in the fast lane. This comes to a crescendo when his boss Janice has one particularly zesty confrontation over an expense report and he goes ape shit on her, tell her to shut the fuck up, exits the building, and bashes his philandering best friend/co-worker's skull in with his ergoboard (whatever happened to those things? I used to have one and really liked it... whatever...)

He marches out of the building and who should be waiting for him in her sexy, stealth black car? Why none other than a pleasingly pouty GeGe JoJo, ready to whisk him back to Fraternity headquarters.

All is not so sexy and glamorous, however - turns out Assassin central is really a textile factory. What's that? "A TEXTILE FACTORY? Now I've seen everything" - I know. Then Wesley is introduced to potentially the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen... Morgan Freeman explains to Wesley that the Fraternity is carrying out orders dictated to them by, *ahem*, the loom of fate. YES. THE LOOM OF FATE. An enormous loom that spells out names of people numerically and they must die in order for thousands to be saved or some shit.

After this, Wesley is put through a prolonged period of 'training' - he basically gets the fuck beaten out of him repeatedly and is nursed back to health by way of some sort of wax-bath that stimulated white blood cells... during one of which, the audience is treated to the ample, tattooed backside of Angelina Jolie (I'll be she hated that scene...)

Anyballs, after a montage of many a bloody trials and errors, The Jole-ster and Morgan Freeman come to the conclusion that Wesley is ready for his first job. The Jole-ster accompanies him, and when push comes to shove, he can't do it. He doesn't know why he's supposed to kill someone not knowing if they've done anything wrong... The Jole-ster then explains to him that years ago, there was a little girl whose father was a judge - he was assigned to a case where the accused wanted a judge who wouldn't be so stringent, so a hit was put out on him. This particular assassin - named Phillip Frisk or something - came to the judges house, tied up the judge, poured gasoline on him, burned him, and made the little girl watch as it happened. Then, he took a red hot coat hanger and branded her... Well, THAT GIRL WAS ANGELINA. A fact made BEYOND obvious by the lips on the bitch they got to play 7-year-old Angie... for reals... it was a dead ringer...

Anyballs, Angie says that shortly after she joined the assassins, she found that Phillip Frisk's name had been called by the "loom of fate" some two weeks before her father had been murdered, and whichever Fraternity member had been assigned to kill him chickened out - so that's why Angie always follows through, no questions asked.

Time passes, he finally gets some balls and starts offing people, and decides he's ready to finally take out Mr. X. During a previous confrontation with Mr. X, they find one of the custom made bullets he uses, and somehow traces it to Arabia. Yes, Arabia. So he goes to Arabia in search of Mr. X, accompanied by - unbeknownst to him - one Ms. Angelina Jolie-Pitt, because, y'see, it turns out that Wesley's name was picked by the "loom of fate" and he's her next job. D-RRR-AMA!!!!

Blah blah blah they go to Arabia, and Wesley stalks the dude who made the bullets - played by Terrence Stamp, who some of you may recognize from a slew of action-adventure movies, among them: Phantom Menace, Elektra and most recently Get Smart; but I recognize him as the tranny queen in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert - and, after sufficiently threatened at gunpoint, he clues them in on the whereabouts of Mr. X.

I can't really remember the specifics of how this unfolds, but there's this crazy chase scene on a train that goes through the mountains, Angelina [sexily] crashes a car into the train to grant herself entrance to it and someone pulls the emergency brake as it's going over a bridge high above a truly cavernous ravine. The train cars start to wobble off - this is the part where I shit myself. SHIT MYSELF. I live at Broadview & Danforth, and the subway always needs to go over the Don River on this suspension bridge, and it's basically my worst nightmare that the cars go off the track. Basically - ANYBALLS... Eventually Mr. X and Wesley come face to face, with Wesley dangling off the car, about to fall to his death, when - GASP - Mr. X reaches a hand out to save Wesley. Wesley, having none of it, shoots the poor fucker in the heart... ah well, too little too late, because the next thing that happens is the train car that they were dangling on plummets below. Wesley's alive, Mr. X barely is. Wesley gets up in his face, about to do him in. With his last breath, Mr. X tells him that he, in fact, is Wesley's father and he had been trying to protect him all along - which makes stunning sense really, as Mr. X never shot at Wesley, just the other assassins. Then he dies.

Then, out of nowhere because she's magical, appears Angelina Jolie. Yeah... somehow she stowed away on this particular car that just plummeted 18 miles down a ravine. He asks her if this is true, and she says "yeah... but whatever. His name came up bitch. And so did yours-" and as she goes to shoot him, he shoots the window that him and his apparent father were atop of, and rides his dead apparent father like a boogie board to the river below.

Cut to him waking up in yet ANOTHER wax bath, this time, at a different locale. He's greeted by Terrance "Bernadette" Stamp, giving him the low-down - "your father wanted you to have a different/better life than that of an assassin, he was always protecting you, [Morgan Freeman] is bad news, he takes out corporate hits for people and claims it comes from the loom of fate"-I KNOW! HOW DARE HE BESMIRCH THE LOOM OF FATE?!?!?-"blah blah blah..." Wesley hatches a plan for revanche.

He fills 10,000 rats up with a deadly concoction of peanut butter and gasoline - don't fucking ask me why - puts synchronized bombs on their backs and drives a garbage truck full of them into the textile factory. After the rate bombs explode, he bursts in, guns blazing, shooting everyone in sight - really, the next sequence plays out like a video game... one mounting obstacle after the other, until finally he finds himself in Morgan Freemans' library, surrounded by the core group of the Fraternity, all aiming guns at him.

He then spills the beans that Morgan Freeman has been lying to them and using them for his own financial game and that, in fact, Morgan Freeman's name came up on the "loom of fate" a long time ago and he has the shred of cloth to prove it or something. Then Morgan Freeman is all like "yeah. So? Fuck you! Get a load of this - ALL of your names have come up on the 'loom of fate'..." and he hands them all the proof. Then he's all "Come with me brothers and sisters, and let's all share the feast! Oh... and kill this Wesley bitch before you do... peace out".

Anyballs - everyone thinks his goose is cooked, when all of a sudden Angelina Jolie fires this crazy circular bullet shot that pierces through every single persons skull before throwing Wesley the gun and taking the final blow of the bullet herself. And yes, you can rest assured, she was pouting suggestively until the very, very end.

Anyballs... he can't find Morgan Freeman. He ambles home. Finds that his former father's vast fortune that was transferred to him is no more and he's just all 'fuck it'. The last scene implies that he goes back to his accounting job, same old, same old. Then Morgan Freeman appears behind him with a gun all "some things never change". He spins the dude around, realizes it's not Wesley but instead a decoy, Morgan Freeman swears and gets a bullet through his head.

Sha-la-la-la.

And that's that.

Anyballs... it was fun... go see it... if ONLY for the unstoppable sensuality of Angelina Jolie...

That's it for me for today. It looks like it's going to rain. Hmmm.

--- Aj

THIS is why I don't tan/Pasty Pride

A jubilant Monday to you and yours,

More on that title in a second...

But firrrrst...

A question: when was the last time you came incredibly close to actually punching someone in the back of the head? Like, ACTUALLY. Like you could feel your fist clenching and teeth gritting together in preparation of a deadly blow? I came within inches of punching someone in the back of the head today, a mere two hours ago. The scene: Approximately 1:30, Post-Meridian. The PharmaPlus in the Metro Concourse, located approximately beneath Roy Thompson hall at streets King & University.

This particular PharmaPlus transforms into a hub for professional, office-type gals betwixt the hours of 12 and 2 PM - lunch hour for many. Lines as far as the eye can see of these gals buying concealer, tampons, hand sanitizer, manufactured Hostess confectioneries, personal lubricant, y'know - that racket. It takes fucking FOREVER to get the cash register as a result. It's just bitch in Reitman's-purchased tasteful-yet-modern sweater set after bitch in Reitman's-purchased tasteful-yet-modern sweater set buying one item at a time and putting it on their credit card.

Today - after getting my boss and I's lunch - I headed over there to get some Diet Coke and some SPF-packed moisturizer (you'll know why in a scant few seconds... trust me) and took my place in line. Today, I was situated behind the most searing assache I've ever come into contact with - it was a bitch who was RETURNING A TOOTHBRUSH OVER CREDIT CARD. Do you KNOW how long this transaction took?!?! AND, the motherfucking toothbrush cost $1.27. ONE DOLLAR AND TWENTY-SEVEN CENTS. And she NEEDED to return it. On credit card. Which she needed to sign for, the fucking cashier needed to sign for, the fucking manager needed to sign for - I'm surprised I didn't need to sign for it. It was EXTRAORDINARY bullshit. She then proceeded to haggle over some Polysporin which she claimed was 20% off in her current coupon flyer - and the cashier was like "yeah... it's 20 off. It says so right there". But this bitch was insistent that it was 20% off ON TOP of that 20% because, y'know, that makes all the sense in the world. CUT TO 5 MINUTES LATER - I'm swearing under my breath and just looking at her murderously. She seems unfazed. Finally, the manager convinces her that the discount has been given, and this bitch waddles away narrowly escaping me actually punching her in the head.

My God I hate these people. Like, I get it - you're desperate for human interaction and the only way you can claim some sort of importance is by needlessly robbing people of minutes from their day. But all I ask is that next time you please go and take this out on a homeless person or something... they'll gladly assume a captive audience with you for a lot less money than it costs to return a toothbrush. AN ASSFUCKING TOOTHBRUSH!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!?!

Gah - sorry. It just confounds me...

Another thing that confounds me...

Do y'all remember Baywatch? How could you forget. Do y'all remember Jeremy Jackson? He played Hasselhoff's character's son - here he is during his stint on Baywatch, looking his age...

Yeah. We all spanked to that at one time or another... ladies, am I right?

Well, here he is PRESENT DAY-

I asked my boss to guess how old he is/was. And my boss (not knowing who he is/was) guessed, without remote hesitation, "early 40's".

Then I gleefully revealed to him that the fellow pictured and myself are the same age. Yeah. JerJack and I are the exact same age (well... not really... he's actually a year older than I am, but at present we're both the big two seven.)

Upon laying eyes on Mr. Jackson, I can honestly say I cherish my vampire-esque aversion to sunlight more than every. HOLY. BALLS. That is Busted with a capital 'Usted. He looks like the lead singer of Warrant/Quiet Riot/Whitesnake/The Scorpions/some hair metal band of yesteryear...

So, to all of you in your mid-late 20's still soakin' up the rays like it's good for what ails ya - it's not. 20-something wrinkles ain't pimples, darlings - they're not going to clear up. They're there forever. Add to that the occasional gray pube, and you might as well go cash in on the 20% discount on Thursdays at Denny's (that's the seniors discount day... I know this because as a kid, I couldn't wait until I turned 55 and older so I could get it... now I feel decidedly different).

Anyballs... that's all the wisdom I have to impart today...

Slather on the sunscreen,

--- Aj