Wolf Creek 2: No redeeming features.
I’m not really much of a valentines type person, this year I asked my significant otter if he would take me for ten dollar schnitzels. He decided he would one up me and took me on a surprise trip to the Greyhound racing track.
While I knew that place existed and had for ages, I didn’t think people actually went there. It was like a parralel universe. It must be the only place in the developed world where you can get entry, a beer and a meal for ten dollars.
I was hoping that someone would throw away an unwanted greyhound in the parking lot that I would adopt and call Cupids Little Helper but alas, they all seemed well loved and cared for.
I give the night 9 cheap beers out of ten because our doggies lost almost every race.
A little Valentine’s collage for your enjoyment.
I haven’t been here because for the past however long it’s been I’ve been forced into watching crime shows. My boyfriend seems to have moved away from so-bad-it’s-good movies and into True Crime shows. This has been aided by my recent acquisition of Netflix (yes I am a naughty criminal).
The best of the crime shows I have been forced to watch lately is probably Homicide Hunter. Homicide Hunter is about Joe Kenda, a straight talkin-no nonsense cop from Colorado Springs. He appears to be older than time and a booze hound but since all the crimes seem to be from the 80′s he is played by a dashing young actor. The best thing about crime shows is that the people playing the victims and murderers are always hot versions of the real people, because we all know that ugly people don’t get murdered (no-one can be bothered).
I give this show ten cops out of ten purely for the Joe Kenda-isms, which I won’t spoil here.
Here is a picture that I drew of Joe Kenda
I don’t give a fuck about feng shui, but I think I read a thing about it when it was all the rage that said you can never be mentally calm when your space is a cluttered bombsite. Maybe I made that up. Anyway, it definitely seems to be the case as the more insane my apartment gets, the more insane I get.. it’s a insanely vicious cycle.
This post is pointless, other than to inform you that since I am decluttering and have moved my room around my computer is now in front of my window. It is VERY Carrie Bradshaw. So expect a lot less reviews of animals and a lot more talk about shoes/outfits/Mr Big.
Here is a webcam picture to celebrate.
Ok so as it turns out my cat review is becoming my Magnum Opus, but I would hate to keep my public waiting so I instead I am going to review this video that everyone has already seen and no-one cares about anymore.
This video naturally gets ten unlikely animal friends out of ten because there is a cat and a duck and a dog and they are all mates. I would of liked to have seen a mouse in here or a hedgehog but probably a hedgehog would of made it too perfect and the world would of had to end under the weight of all the greatness. Actually, THANK GOD there is no hedgehog in the video because my work here on this delightful planet is not quite done (ie I need to finish my cat review before total annihilation can occur.
Anyway, I digress. This video raises many questions
- Why is that cat so fucking chill? If you put a vacuum cleaner within 1 metre of my dog he has such a freak out my neighbours probably think I am trying to murder him (sometimes I am, but not with a vacuum).
- Does that cat suddenly have an urge to become a cannibal, now he is a shark and a shark is a fish and we all know that cats like to eat fish.
- Why dosen’t the duck have a costume.
- What was the dog doing before he makes his entrance, was he backstage sitting in front of one of those mirrors with the lightbulbs powdering his face and muttering “I’m ready for my close up”?
- Why haven’t I put question marks on the end of most of these questions?
In summary, this is a good video but it’s not as good as a slow loris eating or that one of the dog I saw yesterday that makes noises like the Predator.
At least not in the slangular sense.
Last Friday night saw me on another movie going adventure, this time to Cinema Paris at Fox Studios or the Entertainment Quarter or whatever it’s called these days. I hadn’t been to that cinema before, it’s quite lovely. It dosen’t have that hint of century old popcorn and jizz that most cinemas have these days.
This particular outing was to see Machete Kills. Previously I had complained to my boyfriend that I never get to pick the movie. A few days later I was given my “choice” between Machete Kills and Alpha Papa Alan Partridge thingy. I went with Machete Kills because Lady Gaga was in it and I want to eat her muff. Also it seemed more like a “big screen” kind of film. Was it the wrong choice? The trailer for Alan Partridge made it seemed like whichever choice I had made, it would not end well for me.
Anywhoosen, we were the only people in the cinema. Not a good sign! Or potentially a good sign if ya know what I mean *nudge nudge wink wink*, unfortunately looking at Danny Trejos giant face was not conducive to any sex times occurring. At least, not for me.
I don’t really know what to say about this movie. It’s obviously going for B-grade shlocky sorta spaghetti western with a dollop of star wars chucked it (honestly, WHAT was with all those Star Wars references) but it just sorta.. sucked. They obviously dropped a heap of cash on cinematography and nice outfits and sets and all that, and I appreciated that. However the people in it just had no charm whatsoever. I pretty much wanted everyone to die. I think I could carry a movie better than Danny Trejo.
I wouldn’t go see a movie like that and expect a solid plot but things like, there was 3 hours on the clock to save the world but then we sat through an entire new night and day scene. HOW DO YOU FIT THAT IN 3 HOURS?!?! At one point he gets riddled with bullets and in the next he is shirtless (I think) and nothing. NOT ONE BULLET HOLE. NOT EVEN A SCRATCH. WHAT!! Oh my god I am getting angry just thinking about it. Two epic hot babes were in love with Machete also I mean really. On what planet. ON WHAT PLANET.
No-one stood out as being any good in it. Charlie Sheen was horrible. Mel Gibson was horrible. Danny MACH-ET-E was horrible. The ladies were all horrible. Lady Gaga was a fierce beautiful queen, but still horrible.
The saving grace of this entire movie was michelle rodriguez boobses. Are they new? Where did they come from? I couldn’t look away once she showed up.
I give this movie 2 decapitations out of ten, one of each of Michelle’s tits.