Of good parties and bad movies

First of all, sorry for not posting in the last forever or so. However I'm impressed you could all supress the undoubtedly overwhelming desperation for new Scott-material for so long. I mean it's been like five days. You must be going nuts at this point. So let Dr. Scott perscribe a healthy dose of Sco-loft, and get you back into better spirits. Here goes, starting at the beginning: le par-tay.

The first ever blog based celebration went off quite well. What with games, and food, and shenanigans. I will say however that I brought things down a bit when I lost at Mafia and then started cussing at the person who brought about my demise. But I contend that I was so deeply into the character of my mafia persona, I couldn't distinguish reality from the game. Also, sorry Molly. Threatening to kill you in real life might have been a bit extreme. And I'll admit it. My bad.

Moving right along, the rest of the night was pretty hilarious, especially when it became like 2:00 AM and people didn't want to drive back to their homes. So I had no less than 10 people sleeping at my place. Given that I live in a 1,000 sq foot apartment in theory everyone should have had their own one hundred feet of personal space. Somehow it didn't really work out like that. I'm at a loss to figure out why, but all signs point to shoddy math. Computer Science majors don't need math right? As a sidebar: my hatred of computer sciences (which isn't to say I'm not good at them, I currently have a 3.91 GPA) is part of the reason I'm going into writing, ideally comedy writing.

Anyway, after the party I came back to J-ville and saw Fantastic Four then promptly wished I hadn't. I loved the comic books, and even the Saturday morning cartoon. But the movie didn't really do them justice. But it wasn't so bad that I couldn't watch it, nor was it so bad that there were several unintentionally hilarious scenes. For that, I watched another movie. A movie so bad it prompted the first weekly "Bad Movie Night", a movie called "Bury Me An Angel". Even the tagline for this movie is hilariously awful: "A howling hellcat humping a hot steel hog on a roaring rampage of revenge". I think now would be a great time for a movie montage of ridiculous scenes from the "film".

I so thoroughly ripped apart this movie, I think I deserve my own satellite of love. Basically the plot of the film is that the alleged biker "woman" - who in close up shots more closely resembles a post-op tranny, which nicely compliments her lower-than-yours voice and oddly mannish frame - is on a quest to avenge her brother whose head you can see bleeding in the top right of my collage. Funny that it's even there at all considering in the special effects shot it was blown off. There's the things obligatory to all biker movies including the bar fight (in this case the most ILLOGICAL bar fight of all time. Seriously, people who were friends sitting on the other side of the bar just turned and started fighting each other. Then the run-in with the inept "Yosemite Sam" Sherif who absolutely cracked everyone up with his high pitched voice shouting "What in the cornbread hell is going on here". Finally there's the doubly obligatory hippy psychic/satanist/wise Indian figure who surprisingly advocates peace and the fact that she's not flammable.

All in all I give it a 10/10 for hilarity but minus several billion for the HALF HOUR CROSS COUNTRY BIKE SCENE. Next week's film? Death Race: 2000!


- Scott