Party Time Excellent

I was supposed to go see The Incredibles yesterday with my friend Liz, but that fell through, as usual. People are so busy these days, they're always doing something. Or maybe I have too much free time, but it still feels like it's easier to just go to the movies alone instead of coordinating a break in someone's schedule. Not having a car makes it a little difficult, too... But that's a past entry.

The last movie I got to see was my favorite of the year: Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie, Giovanni Ribisi... Excellent cast, and a brilliant concept delivered superbly. A lot of people decried all the extense green screen use, but I thought the movie was absolutely gorgeous. Of course, I went to see it alone; not because I didn't have anyone to go with, but because that's the kind of movie I'd enjoy more by myself. I'm a huge fan of pulp sci-fi, especially the old Golden Age magazines Amazing Stories and Astounding Science Fiction, so I didn't want anyone nagging me during the film to explain the plot. Spider-Man 2 is a close second.

But I haven't seen Team America, yet, and I wanted to see it really bad. I missed Chronicles of Riddick in the theaters, too, but it comes out on DVD tomorrow, so I'm definitely renting it.

I rented Van Helsing the other day and forced myself to watch it all the way through to the ending. That movie sucked something awful. I couldn't believe ILM, the same fx studio that made the new Star Wars movies, were responsible for this loathsome piece of crap. It only adds to my suspicions that there's top-tiers and lower-tiers at ILM: the top-tiers of computer artist geeks only get to work on Geroge Lucas and Steven Spielburg films. The lower-tier geeks get all the other projects. I think the lowest of the lower-tier got stuck with Van Helsing. I can't believe I spent 2 dollars and 2 hours of my time to rape my eyes watching that piece of shit film. And to think they're making a sequel... I think all the Xanax and anti-depressants have finally turned everyone in Hollywood into zombies.

Not much going on this week. My friend Carl's graduation party is on Saturday... tons of people from Outback are going, and I can feel a sort of giddy anticipation rising as the weekend approaches. I haven't had a chance to really get crazy with the gang since our night at the Yellow Rise (I danced with no shoes the entire night -- they were flip-flops and they kept falling off -- I rode the mechanical bull -- twice -- I woke up the next day sore as hell.) That was months ago. The graduation party's going to be at the Gin Mill, formerly Wallaby's, off Fairfield Road, which isn't too far from home... but I doubt I'll be driving anywhere that night, car or no car... I told Carl to make sure the bar's stocked with at least one bottle of Jack solely for me. I'll sufficiently compensate the bartender.

If there's a DJ I'm bringing my CDs. I'm not listening to remixed Britney Spears or Jay-Z. If Carl's the host, he should be in charge of the tunes, and I'm going to demand the DJ play a few songs from my own collection. Here's the list I'm thinking about:

1) anything by Bobby Brown
2) 'I Want Your Sex' and maybe 'Father Figure', by George Michael
3) 'Supersonic' by JJ Fadd
4) 'Buffallo Stance' by Ninah Cherry
5) 'Freak Me' by Silkk
6) 'Sexual Healing' by Marvin Gaye
7) 'Get Off' by Prince

Seven or eight songs through the course of the night isn't TOO much, right? And besides, I'm kickin' it sexy and old school. It'll get 'em all sweaty.

Maybe I'll bring a camera and post pictures of the party here on the blog. Check back... those .1 or .2 of you who actually get lost and find their way here.

I can't wait.