Monthly Archives: September 2009

Who Wants an Eraserhead Larva Baby Replica? YOU DO!

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 30, 2009 – 9:20 am
Filed under there's a difference between films and movies
Tagged as

I was under the impression that I pretty much knew David Lynch. I saw Mulholland Dr. in the theatre twice, watched The Elephant Man in a college class, saw Blue Velvet earlier this year with Kamran, DVRed The Straight Story the other day without even knowing it was a David Lynch film just because I wanted to watch a movie about a farmer, watched Lost Highway with Kamran a couple of years ago when he helped me paint the living room of my apartment bright pink, was forced to see bits of Wild at Heart on TV, and think I might have actually seen every episode of “Twin Peaks” at this point thanks to our cable horror channel, Chiller. So yeah, I thought I knew David Lynch.

But last night, Kamran made me watch Eraserhead. When the opening credits came on, I asked, “Is this in black and white?”, and he said, “Yes, and there’s very little dialogue.” I tried to have an open mind, but I was still veeeeeeeeery skeptical a half an hour in. There was little plot, little scene, no dialogue, and totally unlikeable characters. And then this happened:

And that basically sums up the film. If you’re in any way intrigued by that, rest assured that it only gets weirder. It’s probably my second-favourite David Lynch movie now, and I can’t wait for Kamran to start up his line of Eraserhead action figures so I can give everyone a larva baby for Christmas.

My Lunch is of Less Value Than My Pride

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 29, 2009 – 12:00 pm
Filed under fun times on the subway, good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york sucks so hard, my uber-confrontational personality
Tagged as , , , ,

Yesterday morning, I decided to bring a bag of frozen broccoli with me to work in an attempt to be a sliver more healthy. Needing a carrying vessel, I asked my boyfriend if I could use a stray Saks bag floating around his apartment and was delighted to find that it was the perfect height and depth for broccoli-toting.

As you may have noticed, I often take the bus across 42nd Street to Grand Central, because I get a thrill from having people drive me around since I barely know anyone with a car here. And also because I’m lazy. But this morning, I was feeling anxious about the end of summer and decided to walk it instead. Swinging my brand new lunch bag, I took in the sights of two businessmen stretching the backs of their suits as they embraced and the new look of the Pfizer building now that the giant photomosaics have been removed from every window. It was a great way to start the day.

But then I got to the east stairwell on the outside of Grand Central, which is very narrow for the amount of people who use it. A stream of passengers was attempting to take up the entire staircase, which just seems impossible to me. Having been raised correctly and not by savages, I just don’t have it in me to use the wrong sides of stairs, so I assume that everyone else realizes when they’re in the wrong, too.

But no, with every step, I found myself having to thwart collisions with businesspeople and babies alike.

Read the rest here.

Benjamin Button Should’ve Been Called Benjamin Suckin’ OHHH!

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 28, 2009 – 3:00 pm
Filed under stuff i hate, there's a difference between films and movies
Tagged as ,

Netflix delivered The Curious Case of Benjamin Button to Kamran’s apartment a good month ago. I’m the one who put it on our list, yet I’m the one who kept dragging my feet, because three hours of Brad Pitt doesn’t excite me like it does normal women.

I’m trying to catch Kamran up on five seasons of “Lost” so we’ll both be prepared for the final season when it airs in January, so we spent a few hours on Friday night and all morning Saturday watching episodes from season two. Kamran was getting too good at guessing exactly what was going to happen next (seriously, am I the only one who’s taken by surprise by every minute of the show?), so we stopped at one point and decided to finally watch Benjamin Button so we could send it back and stock up on Halloween movies to give us an excuse to eat loads of candy pumpkins.

It sucked. We didn’t care about any of the characters, though they were obviously intended to be intriguing in the way all of the characters in movies like Amélie or Fargo are. And the worst part was that it seemed like Benjamin’s getting younger really had no effect on anything. Aside from kissing a woman for the first time as an old man, any of it could have happened to someone who wasn’t aging backward. And the Hurricane Katrina stuff? CRAP, and obviously not from the Fitzgerald short story.

To be fair, there were two scenes I liked:

1) Benjamin leaves Daisy because he’s growing too young and doesn’t want her to have to take care of both him and their baby. As he’s walking out in the middle of the night, she opens her eyes, and they silently look at each other for a moment before he walks out the door.

2) Daisy’s grown daughter reads postcards written by Benjamin to her. They say totally vague and cheesy one-liners like “do the things you love”, but they still touched me somehow.

I just find it insane that this was nominated for the Best Picture Oscar the year after There Will Be Blood and No Country for Old Men were, especially when there were so many good films that year that The Diving Bell and the Butterfly wasn’t even nominated.

What did I miss in the movie that everyone else saw?

YES!

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 24, 2009 – 1:58 pm
Filed under narcissism
Tagged as

The Bus Stops for Obama

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 23, 2009 – 12:01 pm
Filed under funner times on the bus, living in new york is neat
Tagged as ,

My boyfriend lives right beside the United Nations building on the East River, so every time some unwanted politician blows into town, we feel the effects more than most New Yorkers. Yesterday morning, I walked out of his apartment building to find a tow truck pulling cars off the street, cops milling everywhere with especially cute and not-at-all-threatening dogs, the sidewalks lined with metal barriers, and 42nd Street blocked off to cars. Which meant that the bus I lazily use to take me the three stops to Grand Central wasn’t running.

Read the rest here, sucka.