Movies: Hot Fuzz

Why do I feel as though writing about this movie will take out all the funny? Perhaps it is because my blog has been recently criticized.

"i think i should stop reading your blog. [. . .] oddly, it makes me really hate you. it's somewhat inexplicable because there isn't anything offensive in your blog. it's just something about your tone and word choice. [. . .] i think i like you more in person than i do on paper. i don't recognize you [. . .] when you're in writing - you are like a stranger."

Other readers have agreed that I blog with "a haughty, dismissive tone." I insist that I am, by nature, haughty and dismissive, but dissenters, as is their definitive nature, dissent.

I had always considered my blog to be light (see silly postings including this rhymey poem and my description of Justin Timberlake as a wussy honky cracker), but I am now going to endeavor to make them even lighter (see my thoughts on nose picking, not to be confused with Roald Dahl's thoughts on sex (Sex is like picking your nose; it's okay to do it yourself, but no one should ever have to watch anyone else doing it.)

And Hot Fuzz is the lightest movie I've seen all year—and possibly the best, particularly as it belongs to a genre I usually loathe (farce)—I wanted to leave just seeing the trailers (including an Iraq farce, a ping pong farce, and a pro-life farce). So to blog may be to bore. Suffice to say, this is English farce, and it is with an enthusiastic and even loving gestalt that it simultaneously mocks and pays homage to American Action Flicks in the mold of Bad Boys II. There are lug nut jokes enough that the average American will wet his pants laughing, but anyone suffering from acute Anglophilia will find that he's soiled his knickers, he's laughed so hard.

Poem: After Talking to Perdition

"This is such a girly place. There needs to be some serious man around. You can imagine what everyone else is like."

gay 'n girly—flushed 'n curly
riding 'round the whirly-twirly

brawn 'n burly—davidson-hurley
plowing through all hard and surly

they so pearly—you so churly
poppin' cherries oft' 'n early

lick 'em, surely, for their purely
burning urge to sigh demurely

Conversations: IM with Perry

me: I started a blog

perryg: Good. You can blog about your sex life and gain a huge audience.

me: um. . . no? I want a blog my parents can read?
anyway, my sex life is no longer a hobby.

perryg: Boring blog then.

me: I got bored.

perryg: You'll come around.

me: um, ok. If I were Peter Weisman, I'd bitch you out for telling me all about what's gonna happen to me.

perryg: Ha! Good thing you are not.

me: But since I'm just me, I'm going to tell YOU that YOU'LL come around.

perryg: That's very true. We all come around.

me: And then we go back around and then we are dizzy.

perryg: And around again.

me: very dizzy

perryg: Spin the other way. It will undizzy you.

me: kiss girls?!