We'll start with the easy one.
I keep seeing ads for the movie Rock of Ages which is opening in a week or so. I have no idea who this movie is for. First, there's the cast. Aren't you supposed to cast people who are the age of the people they're portraying during the time period of the movie? I suppose that's a quibble, but if you want to be creeped out by Dee Snider at his present age, you can watch this commercial.*
Edited to add 6/12/12: I find this image so horrifying and disturbing, I will be trying my damndest to put up enough new posts to move it off of my front page as quickly as possible. Feel free to perceive that as a good or a bad thing.
Then, there's the music; The film will feature the music of Bon Jovi, Guns N' Roses, Def Leppard, Foreigner (I bet you were wondering about the "foreigner" connection, weren't you?), Journey, Poison, Europe, and Twisted Sister. Fine. I realize these bands all had rabid followings in their day, but I'd hope that some of those fans would have seen the error of their ways in the intervening years. Hey, I loved The Archies, but then puberty set in.
The only thing that will redeem this movie for me is if we later discover that anyone who went to see it was transported to another dimension when they entered the theater and never heard from again. I can live with herd-thinning that shows a profit.
It's a bit of a paradox, but Americans are simply mesmerized by Royalty. We fought a series of long and bloody wars to free ourselves from them, but we're strangely obsessed with them. Granted, at the time, we were saddled with a King who spent part of his time issuing edicts that effected our daily lives and the rest of his time carrying on serious policy discussions with foliage. Obviously, he had to go. I suppose we've gotten the best of both worlds in the end; we get to watch pageantry and vicarious "living large" and somebody else pays for it. It's fairly benign and nobody forces us pronounce our "zees" as those silly "zeds".
But secretly, we want to have a servants' wing and to need a golf cart to get from the Receiving Room to the Casual Dining Pavillion. We want to be people who have no difficulty navigating the use of 27 items of cutlery at a single place setting. We want to like sports where the spectators wear huge hats and volunteer to clean up horse shit between periods. We want to "summer" with people named Mimsy and Kipton.
We want to have people cheering for us and paying us bucketloads of money for nothing more than having been born into the right family.
But do we really want people like that running the country. I think not. Ergo, I'm having major difficulties figuring out why Mitt Romney is polling so well? That, and there's at least a touch of irony in the rabid anti-immigration crowd wanting to elect our first Mexican president. Or our first Unicorn president.
Which brings us to what actually got me going in the first place...
The people who live on the third floor next door are French. They have a cat. A Siamese cat.
A French fucking Siamese Cat!
(The actual cat is a big fat Siamese cat and I'm way too lazy to stage a stakeout merely to get pictures of him, so you're getting random internet cats as illustrations.)
Le Chat Francais, Travis Bickle.
And the French fucking Siamese cat who is an asshole...is an asshole in my backyard.
"Obtenez-moi une autre bière. Et frotter mes pieds pendant que vous y êtes."**
More specifically, the French fucking Siamese cat has decided that my backyard is its litter box. And he keeps leaving me gifts of French Siamese shit.
I've tried yelling at him, but I don't speak French. Or Siamese. (Which I suppose is actually Thai, these days. But I don't speak Thai either. And I'm not a huge fan of Thai food either, so this is doubly, triply, quadrupally vexing.)
I saw somewhere that cats will leave their shits unburied as an aggressive display of territoriality, so I took one of LuLu's shits*** and plopped it on top of the area where the DoucheCat has been leaving deposits. Moments later, DoucheCat came over the fence and pissed on the LuLu shit.
*I'm also offended by this commercial because it's done so badly. Couldn't the director get Dee to look like he was actually head-banging a bit. The sound track has him screaming the lyric and he looks like he's crooning sweet (horrifying) nothings into that woman's ear.
**"Get me another beer. And rub my feet while you're at it."
***LuLu is the most pungent of our cats, so she got elected.