tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68819028376975341842024-03-19T02:26:08.597-07:00Kendra's Ruminations and RamblingsKBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-34802950159933521262016-04-12T13:01:00.000-07:002016-04-12T13:10:28.866-07:00A Backpacker's Guide to Medications, Meditations & Men<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">April 12, 2016</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, a friend in publishing (that's right
- I have connections) told me I would love a wonderful new author she's been working with. Being the die-hard cynic that I am, I told her where to shove her
opinion, and set off to make my own judgments about the book - <i>It's
Only the Himalayas: And Other Tales of Miscalculation from an Overconfident
Backpacker.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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My thought after the first few pages went something along the lines of
"Well fuck. Now I have to tell Tori she was right". Sue Bedford - a
waitress from Toronto - doesn't know what she's doing with her life. A feeling
I immediately connected with. While I like to complain about my aimless
existence to anyone who will listen (and many of those who won't), Sue made a
plan. Accompanied by her gal pal Sara (and a few other less-committed friends,
including Kendra - who naturally seems like the coolest member of the gang), she
sets off to find herself overseas. On the way to self discovery, she has what
can only be described as an
amazing-and-life-changing-probably-because-she-contracted-at-least-one-disease
experience. And I'm mad jealous about it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of my favorite things about
Sue's writing is her lack of sugar coating. So many travel writers drone on
and on about the magical wonders of the world. Don’t get me wrong, I like to
hear about cherry blossoms and clown fish as much as the next gal, but let’s be
frank. You’re probably admiring those cherry blossoms while taking a shit in
the wilderness, and you’re probably looking at those clown fish while vomiting
over the side of a boat. But we never get to hear about the gory details!
Luckily for us, the voice of truth has written a book, and it's great.
Between the bed bugs, tent floods, sloppy hookups and mouthfuls of AIDS, Susan
Bedford captured my full attention from start to finish – much to the dismay of
my waiting Netflix list.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">While every single one of her misadventures
were impressive/horrifying/hilarious, I connected with a few on a personal
level. Because I'm a selfish white girl, I'm going to review the chapters of the book that really stood out to me - for better or for worse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Wilderness Women - Africa</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Susan’s travels throughout the
African wilderness were reminiscent of my own – 80% driving, 10% night time
noises and 10% actual animal sightings. While my African trip was paid for
by my 50 year old WASPY parents (meaning daily cocktails and bug free beds),
Susan’s tales of wilderness woe made me want to huddle up in my duvet and never leave –
apparently backpacking in Africa isn’t for the faint of heart. Almost
everything Susan described made my skin crawl and wonder – how the hell did those
Swedish Barbies fare so well? I can rough it with the best of 'em, but the
minute you put me in a bedbug infested tent, I’m gonna be on the next elephant
outta </span><strike style="font-size: 12pt;">dodge</strike><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Namibia. I couldn’t help but feel bad for Charlie – a MONTH
stuck with 5 young girls (who </span>synced<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> up no doubt), having to cater to
their every brainless question and needy request. Hard pass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Noodles & Nausea in Nepal</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I reached the chapter on Sue’s
adventures in Nepal around lunch time. For those of you about to start this
book, I highly recommend not eating chicken noodle soup – like I was – when
reading this chapter. Just don’t. Nothing will seem less appetizing to you than
a steaming bowl of noodles after finishing this chapter. Seriously
though – stick with a sandwich. Although her journey sounds incredible, it
doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest – which again is a testament to
Sue’s lack of sugary sweet coating. It would have been very easy
to focus on the sweeping landscape and fresh mountain air, but instead she
gives us a more truthful recount of her trek – shitting on stilts and
almost committing accidental </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">patricide. Nepal sounds as challenging as it is beautiful. The most backpacking I've ever done was a weekend trek, during which I distinctly remember being simultaneously too hot and too cold...and that's in the relatively even temperatures of the Rocky Mountains. Color me impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Adultery in Asia</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If Susan’s description of Africa made me want to never leave my bed, her poetic portrayal</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> of Vietnam and the Philippines
made me want to pack up my life and become a pirate. I mean, I already have the booty...HA! Breathtaking views,
shipwrecks, and studs? Yes please. Man 'o man - the Philippines and Thailand sound
fun. Sue’s recount of her sexcapades around Asia strongly reminded me of what I wrote in my journal while living in residence
during my first year of University…or would have written if I ever sobered up. Sloppy threesomes, dangerous substance combinations, little
sleep and frequent flirting – ah the simple life. Sue’s stories about the Full Moon Festival match those
I’ve been told by even the most tame of my friends who’ve attend. Ie - sounds like a blast and I want to go. I was giggling out loud reading about the various (and often stereotypical)
men the girls met over the course of their travels. Call me slutty, but I feel like this trip wouldn't have been nearly as fun as a taken woman. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I give mad props to Sue for openly writing about every detail of her trip. Not only the less glamorous side of travel, but also the binge drinking and sexual encounters. They're A) entertaining </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">as hell and B) demonstrate ownership of her actions and body. To those of you who might look down your nose at a girl who hooks up overseas (you'll know who you are by that big stick lodged up your rear end), this book may not be for you. Try Little House on the Prairie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My personal takeaways from <i>It’s
Only the Himalayas</i> they would be these:</span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dreadlocks universally cool</span></span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Banging in an airplane bathroom IS actually possible</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I give <i>It’s Only the
Himalayas</i> a solid 5 mushroom milkshakes out of 5 vaginal blow darts</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-34307762242643504652015-08-21T11:51:00.000-07:002015-08-21T12:02:56.183-07:00The Inconvenient Truth...About Being A Woman<div>
<b>Aug 21, 2015</b></div>
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So there's an article UK Daily Mail published, that has me seeing red (you'll understand the pun when you read the article). Read the article here before proceeding through my rant:<br />
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<a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3203971/Stopping-periods-career-women-defying-laws-nature-using-drugs-risk.html">http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3203971/Stopping-periods-career-women-defying-laws-nature-using-drugs-risk.html</a><br />
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Are you raging? Because I am. And it's not PMS, because I haven't had my rag for over 6 years (which I chose to do so I can bang my boyfriend when I want to. Not because it was a step in climbing the corporate ladder).</div>
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<i>And that's how Sue, "C"s it</i></div>
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According to the author (Jill Foster - aka Traitorous Bitch), women are more productive and successful when they don't have their periods. How absolutely <i>fucking</i> absurd. </div>
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<b><i>63% of scientists agree that 78% of stats are complete bullshit.</i></b></div>
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Let's start with TB's little factoid that British women take 17 MILLION sick days a year due to their periods. Really bitch? <i>Really? </i>According to Index Mundi, there were 16 789 083 females in the UK between the ages of 15 and 54 (prime bleeding age range) in 2014. That means every single female in the UK last year took a sick day because of their period. LIES. I don't know a single woman who has <i>ever </i>called in sick because they were on their rag, and unless Canadian broads are that much tougher than chicks in the UK, I call bullshit on this stat. Keep in mind, this statistic is also <u>super </u>credible, seeing as TB doesn't note where she pulled this number from. Then again, it can be difficult to reference your own ASS in proper APA style.</div>
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<b><i>Ovaries are a burden. It's science because Jill Foster said so.</i></b></div>
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TB is apparently a fountain of scientific knowledge. She patiently explains to her neanderthal audience the biology behind a woman's "time of the month" and how the Pill works (side note, I love that we capitalize the P when referring to the Pill - not unlike the capitalization of the G in God). Jill takes the time to let us know how some poor women experience "...bloating, nausea, abdominal cramps, and even fainting". I can't deny that some poor suckers do have shitty period side effects, and I feel for them - I really do. But not all women have these symptoms, and most bitches who do suffer once a month are used to it, so they know to take an Advil, eat some chocolate, and suck it the hell up for the week.</div>
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<b><i>Bitches of a feather</i></b></div>
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I want to clarify that I don't only blame TB for this article. I want to find Alanna Allen, Morgan Spicer, and Laura Zito and punch them directly in their drugged up ovaries. They are supporting the stigma placed by men on women in the workforce, that those with a uterus are lesser employees. Alanna Allen says, </div>
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"I started taking the Pill in my early 20s, but found it irritating having to remember to take it at the same time every day." <i>Women are such silly, flighty, forgetful creatures. Sure are puurty though.</i></div>
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"I'd still get a bleed, backaches and cramps which isn't convenient when you're a hairdresser..." <i>Putting down your scissors to take a piss must be a real hassle too. Time for a catheter.</i></div>
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This outlandish <strike>cunt</strike> gal even goes so far as to say she doesn't give a shit about potential medical implications of skipping her period, because of how convenient it is to not bleed. FOR REAL BITCH? One of my best friends is a very successful young woman, who manages to run a not-for-profit, have a successful relationship, a thriving social life, and work an 80 hour week despite those pesky ovaries of hers. It's because she works her gorgeous ass off, not because she stopped having her rag.</div>
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These bitches are at the top of my shit list right now. It's simply fucking ignorant to imply that having your period will hold you back from a successful career, and it shits on every step women have taken to push past the glass ceiling. Women are strong as hell, and luckily one oblivious journalist won't change that. </div>
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It's incredibly sad to me that Beyonce has done more for women than this journalist has.</div>
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<i>Strong enough to bear the children, then get back ta business.</i></div>
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<i>*Index Mundi:United Kingdom Age Structure; http://www.indexmundi.com/united_kingdom/age_structure.html</i></div>
KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-24518356615760840262015-07-29T12:44:00.005-07:002015-08-21T12:04:57.978-07:00From the innovative mind of John Green - another cancer story!<div class="MsoNormal">
July 28, 2015</div>
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I’ve had something stuck in my eye for a week now. This is
my excuse for watching The Fault is in Our Stars on a Saturday night. Watching
a movie you actively know will make you cry always seemed right up there on the
list of shitty ideas with swallowing razor blades or having kids, but I now know that Hollywood must keep pumping out
these tear inducing pieces of shit for the masses with bits of dirt stuck under
an eyelid. But I digress. I settled in for a good cry with a bowl of popcorn
and a mug of tea like the old lady I am.</div>
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The Fault is in Our Stars has all the ingredients of a sob-fest.
And by that, I mean there’s not just one, but multiple dying kids with cancer. "Kids with cancer?" I thought, "This son of a bitch in my eye doesn't have a chance". I
was wrong. Not only did I not shed a single tear, but I became so bored during
the movie I actually drifted off - likely pushing that fucking piece of dirt
further back in my head.</div>
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The title is a play on a quote from Shakespeare’s Julius
Caesar – “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves”. With
this in mind, I thought Shakespeare would pop up SOMEWHERE during the tedious 2
hours. He did not. In hindsight it’s probably a good thing. Poor Bill would be
clawing at his coffin to think how his words are being recycled now. Can we take a hot minute to recognize that Bill is basically saying that we're the masters of our own fate? And that this is also not a theme in the movie? Sure, by leaving out the "not" it's implied that cancer is directing cancer kids' fate, but if you're going to title your book/movie after a Shakespeare quote, make it a god damn focus. As Bill says, "Oh these deliberate fools".<br />
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<b><i>A sanctimonious synopsis</i></b><u><o:p></o:p></u></div>
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Here’s my quick synopsis of this movie. Kids have cancer. Audience
is reminded that cancer may make you lose your hair, but not your hormones. Kids
exploit their disease to get a free trip (to the sex & drug capital of the
world…clever kids) & meet literary hero. Hero shits on kids (thereby becoming MY hero). Kids fall “in love”. One kid dies. Kendra wishes she had.</div>
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<b><i>"Let me be boiled to death with melancholy" (If Mr. Green won't put Shakespeare to proper use, I will)</i></b><br />
Cancer sucks. So why do authors & producers keep reminding their audiences of that fact? Let's let those affected deal with it in peace. Can you imagine trying to temporarily forget your own troubles by going to a movie, and all there is to see is movies about the very thing you're trying to escape? Ugh. That'd be like me going to see a movie about a broke-ass bitch. Hard pass.<br />
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Anywho, there's these kids that have cancer, and they're dealing with it like champs. They're socializing, joking around, and dabbling in all kinds word play and philosophy and shit - you know, like all teenagers do. No, sorry, I'm thinking of drugs. All teenagers dabble in drugs. So the two cancer kids get a trip to Amsterdam to see cancer
girl’s favorite author – neat. If I could meet my favorite author, he'd be the most literate zombie around, but I’d be pumped
too. For some reason cancer girl is surprised that he’s an asshole. Uh sweet pea, he’s a
writer. Of course he’s a moody drunk. And his happy hour was just interrupted by
two kids who expect the world to bend around them because they’re dying (yes –
I’m THAT bitch. You can stop reading now if you’d like. It’s only going to get
worse from here). Willem Dafoe’s real
life can’t be much different than that of his character. Mid morning, drink in
hand, bangable assistant, it’s a life we've all wistfully dreamt of.</div>
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So after the author ruins the kid’s day, his hot assistant
offers to take them sight seeing. Where do dying kids want to go in Europe? To
the house of a dead girl of course! I fo sho thought that cancer girl was going
to croak when she was climbing around Anne Frank’s house, but <strike>unfortunately </strike>she
prevailed. Then she kisses cancer boy, and everyone claps. Pretty sure the last
time I sucked face with a teenage boy in public, all I got was glares and fake
gagging.</div>
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<b><i>"Now is the winter of our discontent"</i></b><br />
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The casting was good. I’ll give it that. But that’s about
all I’ll give it. How the fuck this movie got 81% on Rotten Tomatoes is beyond
me, but clearly I’m not the intended audience of The Fault is in Our Stars. I
am not young, nor am I an adult, and clearly I’m not sympathetic enough to
appreciate the issues kids with cancer go through. Here I am, thinking that
cancer was about surviving, whereas I apparently should’ve known it was about losing
your V-card before dying. Fuck me, right?<br />
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One unlit cigarette out of five tumors.<br />
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<i>PS: As a bonus, here's the best Shakespeare quote I know:</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thou mis-shapen dick!</span> (Henry VI)</div>
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-13729145577738123642014-12-22T09:01:00.000-08:002015-07-29T13:23:31.479-07:00Crazy Bitch + Controlling Boys = One Hellova Page TurnerMy boyfriend had been telling me for months to read <i>Go<span style="background-color: white;">ne Girl.</span></i><span style="background-color: white;"> I</span> was in a Dean Koontz induced haze all summer, but when I saw the movie was coming out I knew I had to get it read before going to see the adaptation. I only ended up getting about 5 chapters in before I saw the movie, but in the words of Janice Litman Goralnik,<br />
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A-maze-ing. Amazing. The book was well written, the movie was well cast, it was just all around awesome. It's very rare that the movie lives up to the book (Saramago's <i>Enemy</i> was fucking appalling for example), but this one certainly did.<br />
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<i>Characters </i><br />
Despite the off-the-charts levels of crazy, Amy Elliott Dunne could be my spirit animal. She is the most bad ass bitch to be since Regina George. She is beautiful, insane, razor sharp, insane, cunning, rich, and did I mention insane? It's not hard to imagine Amy as b<span style="background-color: white;">eing the girl w</span>ho becomes your best friend over wine and pedis in college, only to later find out she's been fucking your boyfriend. In your bed. Wearing your lingerie. And doing it better than you. Her scheme is brilliant and if not for her vanity, would've been flawless.<br />
I liked the back story of the Amy novels as well. Amazing Amy had an Amelia Bedelia air about her, but without the puntable idiot vibe. The differences between Amazing Amy and Amy Dunne provides a stark comparison and manages to highlight Amy Dunne's insanity even further.<br />
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Gillian Flynn did a fantastic job with Nick Dunne. As the reader, I flip flopped between admiration, hatred and sympathy and back again more times than I can count. He does his damndest to get ahead of Amy, but with no avail because Amy is a tricky tricky bitch (like all bitches should be).<br />
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One of my favorites characters in <i>Gone Girl</i> has to be Desi Collings. The novel version of Desi provided extra hints of OCD and exaggerated control issues. The Amy-inspired bedroom and flower room were touches of genius that should have been included in the movie in my not-so-professional opinion. NPH did a great job of the overly adoring ex bf role (although NPH could do a dramatic reading of a phone book and it'd still be beyond). Desi Collings is a great reminder to all single ladies - mamas boys are ALWAYS a bad idea.<br />
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<i>Plot</i><br />
The back and forth diary entry method is typically my least favorite form of writing. This could have something to do with trying my damndest to keep diary when I was a kid and failing miserably (16 "my mom's a bitch" entries can only go so far). This is the exception. Gillian Flynn did an amazing job at developing the background and characters through the entries. Flip flopping between sympathy to hatred for both Amy and Nick created a roller coaster ride of emotion comparable to a pregnant woman.<br />
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<i>Novel vs Movie</i><br />
Fuck. Pay attention. I've already stated what I thought about the movie adaption. Christ.<br />
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<i>Overall Impression</i><br />
Amazing. Wonderful. Stupendous. Brilliant. Fantastic. Sensational. Tremendous. Wonderous. Supercalafragelisticexpealedocous. All of the above.<br />
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5 out of 5 tubes of stolen sperm.<br />
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<br />KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-44498551849381837462014-09-18T11:19:00.000-07:002014-09-18T11:19:58.623-07:00Not Even Worth A Snappy TitleSeptember 18, 2014<br />
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Once again I plundered the links on www.readanybook.com. This time, I made a poor life decision. I selected a novel by the name of Secrets of My Hollywood Life. Atrocious. Dreadful. Abysmal. Horrendous. I could go on and on, and my list of synonyms would be more interesting than this book was.<br />
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I'll give you the short version. Honestly, it's probably not even worth your time to read this synopsis, but if you REALLY have nothing better to do, than read on. And I'm sorry your life sucks.<br />
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Secrets of My Hollywood Life centers around the age old fable of a girl who has fame and fortune wanting to live a normal teenage life. Naturally, there's the villain (competing tween actress), heartthrobs (famous and civilian), and evil parents (controlling gold diggers). Kaitlin Burke is on a hit TV soap opera, but wants nothing more than to experience High School like a normal teenage girl. Clearly no one told her about sweaty gym classes, droning teachers, rotting goo in your new locker, or shitty school parking lots. In a disguise that would only fool fictional peers, Kaitlin attends school and gets found out by her arch rival - Sky. Surprised? No I wasn't either.<br />
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I have a sneaking suspicion that Miley Cyrus wrote this book. It's essentially the authored version of Hannah Montana. Equally as awful, equally as unrelatable, and equally as impressive (as in that it's not).<br />
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In addition to the vomit-inducing nicknames for Kaitlin Burke (Kate-kate, Katie-kins, Katie-kat) the reader must endure, the literary genius behind Secrets of My Hollywood Life - Jen Calonita - dedicates this book to her two sons. Her SONS. Poor guys. All I can hope is that her sons are flamboyantly gay and fascinated by celebrity culture.<br />
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Zero out of any rating system you want.<br />
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<br />KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-38335052117043982082014-07-22T13:58:00.000-07:002014-07-22T13:58:15.511-07:00Sisters, Strangulation and Shoes Summer is here again. Which means I have more time to read and criticize (mostly the latter). I went to one of my favorite websites the other day - www.readanybook.com to take a look at the popular reads section. I like to keep an eye on what the kids are reading nowadays. Unfortunately the list seems to be shorter than it was when I was a kid (and with that, I've become my <strike>mother</strike> grandmother), but I digress. I selected a novel called The Lying Game. Next to the other novels listed (Man's Search for Meaning, Vampire Academy, and Before I Fall), lying sounded the least dull and whiny and the most likely to have shenanigans ensue. With this flawless reasoning, I dove in.<br />
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We are first presented to the heroine, Sutton Mercer, passed out in a bathtub in a frat house. Ahhh a girl after my own heart. I fondly recall the mornings of smeared mascara and missing purses while stumbling to put my pumps back on and muttering about needing better friends. Classic. In the midst of regaining her composure, Sutton is interrupted by another girl stumbling in to the bathroom to rub the shame off herself with lavender lotion. Now this is where the plot gets tricky and a bit less relate able - Sutton can not be seen or heard, and therefore she assumes she must be invisible..wait the girl looks like her...wait her memories are blurry (it's called a hangover sweetheart)...wait she's DEAD! As Ron Burgundy says:<br />
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We learn that Sutton has no choice but to follow her twin - Emma - around, and can oversee her life like a creepier, more manicured version of Casper. What we don't learn though, is how Sutton can hear Emma's thoughts. It just sort of happens and the reader must then infer on their own how this worked out (I must admit...I reread the first scene in which this happened 3 times before resigning to the fact that the author wasn't going to tell us the reasoning behind this). Which made me think - can all ghosts hear our thoughts or is it just some twinsy connection? Oh god... has ghost grandma heard my thoughts when I'm watching a Colin Farrell movie? Oh god porn...<i>all the porn.</i><br />
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There is a strong "boy who cried wolf" theme in The Lying Game - except it's more of a "bratty rich bitch who cried LOVE ME". Although she seemingly can't remember, Sutton was clearly the absolute <i>worst</i> when she was alive. Think Regina George, but without the fabulousness.<br />
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The words raging bitch come to mind, which is a stark contrast to Emma's genuine and seemingly gentle spirit. She does seem to adapt to Sutton's life and snarky remarks pretty quickly though.<br />
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We don't learn why the book is called The Lying Game until the last half of the novel. Kind of annoying. A lot annoying. Just straight up annoying really. But once I learned what the lying game was, I loved it. It's cruel, it's awful, and it's thoroughly entertaining. No spoilers here, but it's every High School girl's combined dream and nightmare (depending on what side you're on). Sutton and her game make Chris Hargensen's antics look like fucking amateur hour.<br />
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What gets me, is how simple it could have been for Emma to prove she's not Sutton - DNA test? Anybody? Anyone? No? No? Oh okay. When she's at the police station, clearly Queen S has quite the record and I'm sure has been fingerprinted, so why not ask the cops to spend 2 minutes to fingerprint her to prove she's not the same person? Oh right because of the big mansion and her new daddy's wallet. I'd keep my pie hole shut too. Cha ching!<br />
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As far as teen mysteries go, The Lying Game does have me guessing. But be prepared though- not everything gets solved at the end - again, annoying. But still. An easy quick read, and an interesting combination of Mean Girls, and The Lovely Bones. Four bloodied Prada purses out of five.<br />
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<br />KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-12324839184843971562014-03-28T10:30:00.004-07:002014-03-28T10:30:54.102-07:00Who Wants to Bang the Big, Bad Wolf?March 28, 2014<br />
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I've ventured back to the Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer, and took a stab at Scarlet. It was even better than Cinder was. Much more violence and intrigue, which always captures my attention. I find that violence always makes books and movies better. Hmm...that's something I should probably talk to a therapist about.<br />
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What is it about the name Scarlet that makes me smirk? Maybe it's because the name reminds me of the whiney blonde on Nashville. Or maybe it's because I once bought my friend a lap dance from a stripper with c-section scars named Scarlet. Regardless, when reading the second book in The Lunar Chronicles I couldn't help but sneer while scrolling through the pages. This isn't to say I didn't fully enjoy the novel. It puts a whole new light on the classic Red Riding Hood, but adds a gun and a gritty past.<br />
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<b><i>Sequel Schmequel</i></b><br />
I enjoyed Scarlet even more so than I did Cinder. I fully appreciated the Taken tone, but instead of a old (albeit sexy) Irish man, we get a teenaged ginger. With a much more detailed past, unpredictable family members, and a thing for the bad boys, Scarlet is a woman after my own heart. I find many revamped fairy tales use the same characters, but neglect to allude to the moral that inspired the story to begin with. Meyer does a great job at referencing the purpose of the story (don't talk to strangers, and the lesser known moral - be nice to your grandparents) while not taking away from the post-apocalyptic feel. The blend of past and future could not have been easy to come up with.<br />
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Integrating Cinder in to the storyline was an interesting, and adept, choice. She's not quite as bad ass as a gun toting farm girl, but her adventures blended seamlessly with those of Scarlet. Cinder left the reader with many questions, all of which were answered in Scarlet.<br />
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<b><i>Girl Power Glory</i></b><br />
The reluctant feminist in me fully appreciates that the two women in this series are leading ladies at their finest. Their sidekicks are men and machine whom they shamelessly use them for their own gain. Even Levana uses her man minions (manions?) for her personal vendetta by going so far as to genetically manipulate them. GREAT idea. The image of a wolf-man isn't exactly appealing but I suppose the goal is more fear based than sex appeal. Personally I think putting Wolf in a camo print banana hammock and body paint would spice things up, but I can still appreciate his more subtle, animalistic appeal. I hope he at least waxes the important bits.<br />
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Scarlet falls for the bad boy. Classic. Sure he withheld pertinent information regarding the kidnapping, sure he was an ex-gang member and current street fighter, and sure he refused her advances throughout 90% of the book, but these qualities are to women what big tits and short skirts are to men. All the makings of female Viagra.<br />
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<b><i>Favorite Moments</i></b><br />
-When Scarlet knees Ran in the dick. That's pretty much my only defensive strategy.<br />
-Everything Thorne says. He's so wonderfully ostentatious. Annoying as fuck in person I'm sure, but amusing nevertheless.<br />
-"Wolf, are you asking me to be...your alpha female?" BAHAHAHA I love this. Next time someone asks me out, this will be what I'll unabashedly say. I'm sure I'll lose the date, but it'll be worth it.<br />
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My biggest take away from Scarlet is how much fun mind control would be. How much easier would life be if you had that power! As a parent, a boss, a girlfriend, the possibilities are endless.<br />
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I give Scarlet 5 bloodied axes out of 5 dismembered wolves.<br />
<br />KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-58599198385573119002014-01-06T12:30:00.002-08:002014-03-28T10:26:21.270-07:00Twilight - Shallow Girls & Shallow Graves<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">January 6, 2014</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my holiday dalliance, I felt the urge to read something truly awful. Boorish. Churlish. Abominable. I was halfway a great list of synonyms when it hit me - Twilight. Twilight encompasses all these and more! Reading craptastic books for me is as fun as watching bad 90's TV like Breaker High, but without the added bonus of a young Ryan Gosling. So I embarked on a journey I actively knew I'd regret.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ahh Bella Swan. Honestly not the worst character in literary history until they used Kristen Stewart to represent her in the movie adaptations. A girl with about as much charisma as my left tit (not my right- it's full of spunk and pizzazz). Starting the book off with a solid helping of whine and despair, she takes us from the Arizona sun to the cloudy, dreary town of Forks. Now that's pathetic fallacy if I've ever seen it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Forks' Village Idiot</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bella won't shut her cake hole about everyone's appearances. She gripes about how mousy she is, how beautiful Arizona's citizens were, how mousy she is again, and how confused she is by the Forks' boy's attraction to her. Then there's the Cullens. The moment she sees these 5 pasty, haughty, post pubescent, "students" she's in awe. Why? It's not like these were the days before the internet when you only saw pretty people in the occasional magazine. I refuse to believe the Cullens are any more drool worthy than a handful of the average celebrities (mmm...a handful of celebrities...like Benadict Cumberbatch...in my hand...full...). Her initial description of Edward is "...<span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">lanky, lessbulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair.". Uh, that doesn't exactly make my panties drip girl. Sounds like most guys I went to high school with.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">Bella jumps head first in to infatuation with the Cullens. Some might say this is because her family blows, or that she's jealous of their grace and bangin' looks, but personally I think it's simply a case of being bored with her own life. Getting an old truck and wet hair isn't exactly anything to write home to your neglectful mom about. Within knowing the kid for one day, Bella states that the second day at school is worse than the first because Edward isn't there...this brings clingy to a new level. She allows her entire world to be dictated by Edward's current opinion of her. It's insanity. Edward's mad at her, she becomes depressed. Edward's chatty, she's happy. Get your shit together. She's so ridiculously co dependent, it's damn near pitiable. Tyler's van should have killed her just to put her out of her bi polar misery.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite Edwards blatant warnings to stay away from him Bella continuous to chase him like a starving puppy. Seriously? She probably believes the Shaw guy when he says her appointment is at 1pm too. Idiot. Her blind ignorance is demonstrated constantly throughout the book. Even after she has a dream about Edward being a vampire and Jacob being a wolf, she <u>still</u> doesn't fully make the connection. Instead, she falls in LOVE with the corpse by the end of the 9th (painful) chapter. What is it about clammy skin and guzzling blood that makes her hot? Pass.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Literary Libations</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">It's a fun game when reading Twilight to take a shot whenever you find a religious reference Stephanie Meyer threw in (good 'ol mormons):</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">- "He didn't know me from Eve"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">- Humans transcending mortal form to become eternal beings</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Sparkly, luminescent Edward...some may even describe him as angelic</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">- Bella constantly refers to her boy toy as "godlike" and even imagines him as an angel when he saves her (unfortunately)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">- Women taking on all domestic rolls (while Charlie sits on his ass watching TV)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Aversions to lies (or fairy tale truths as I call them)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- No funny business before monogamy, no sex before marriage</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Taking cold medicine is considered " ...gratuitous drug use" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Falling in love on the 3rd date (those book-of-Mormon thumpers move faster than lesbians. Honestly.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems to me that Stephanie Meyer is making a valiant attempt at making her own wet dreams in to something acceptable within her </span><strike style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cult</strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> religion. Taking a blood thirsty demonic figure and turning him in to a sparkly, angelic, soft spoken, hunk may work for you lady, but for the rest of us whose turnoffs include rigamortis and emotional instability, we'll stick with Mr. Pitt and Clooney. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ok friends. Time to address the dead, blood thirsty elephant in the room. The sparkling. THE SPARKLING! What was Stephanie Meyer thinking!? I realize that her target audience is prepubescent girls and cat ladies, and both of which are easily entranced by sparkly objects, but COME ON. Sparkly rings - yes. Sparkly nails - yes. Sparkly men - no. Bedazzled humans are only acceptable at raves and gay clubs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's beyond frustrating to me that chaste, innocent Bella can't even vocalize the idea of sex (even when she relates it to marriage). It's very hard to believe that a teenage girl, of <i>any </i>religious persuasion, can't say three little letters. Call me insensitive, but if you can't even entertain the thought of sex, then you're too immature to be considering marriage or sex. Or giving up your last breath to spend eternity as a corpse bride for that matter. Of course my opinion is pretty damn jaded. Pretty sure my first word was "vagina!" (proud moment for my parents).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alas, this book was not as the title described - Twilight indicates the closing or ending. Considering this novel is only the start to a craptastic saga, I vote we rename it something fitting. Something that will warn the reader before they pick it up. Something like "Admonition" or "Zombies Gone Wrong". This book gets a solid 0.25 blood bags out of 5.</span><br />
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-27227774675907016252013-10-19T11:33:00.001-07:002013-10-19T11:33:07.282-07:00One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap Backwards for Mankind<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">October 18, 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm in the midst of exactly 4 books right now and will be getting to the literary posts again, but in the meantime I came across this article that absolutely infuriated and disgusted me. Basically I feel about this article the same way Clark Kent feels about most rocks - it hurts my soul and turns me in to a rampaging lunatic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For those who care to indulge, feel free to click on the link below and read Preston Waters pontificate the most sexist opinions since the 1800s.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://elitedaily.com/dating/gentlemen/good-girls-unicorns/">http://elitedaily.com/dating/gentlemen/good-girls-unicorns/</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How'd you like that? If your answer was:</span><br />
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<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was ATROCIOUS! What an ignorant piece of
shit. We should find him and remove his testicles so he never procreates.</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then proceed on wards my friend! I'll get the scissors while you peruse my rantings. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If your answer was:</span></span></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I dunno…I agree with him on quite a few points.
Women today just aren’t the same ya know?</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Then get out. Leave. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Let's start out by looking at some of our friend Preston Waters' statements.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>Women have changed drastically</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Yes. They have. They've gained basic human rights, a life outside of being a wife, and become more educated. My apologies to Mr. Waters if he's looking for a nice old timey gal who won't lift her petticoat for him before marriage (at age 16), but the vast majority of woman since the 1970s indulge in test driving the car before buying it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>...Women seizing the moment and just living life and having fun like they like to call it...</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">How. Dare. They. Those damn women and their fun! Listen up ladies - Preston didn't give any of us permission to "just live our lives" - stop it. Just put down your confetti, take off your high heels, and get your self back to your cooking and cross stitching before we ruin society forever.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>...eventually become undesirable because no one stays hot forever</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Ha! You're telling me! Let's talk about beer guts, receding hair lines, ear hair and erectile dysfunction. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>Sure we men are to blame for this as well, but that is because we're idiots.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">...That's it? That's his grand reason to excuse men from the same scrutiny that he is subjecting women to? Because men are idiots? Women are the smarter sex therefore we should recede to our humble roots of family raising and house cleaning? I probably belong at pasture because I don't want to have kids and only lazily clean my house once a week. Might as well shoot me me now and end my whore life. (A bit dramatic I know. But you know us women - shrill and hysterical)</span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">..at the same time I am also a gentleman that knows how to treat a lady with respect and compassion just like any other true lady should be treated</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! If this man is a gentleman, I'm a literal unicorn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><i>A (probably slutty)Hole in Reason</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">In addition to his vast generalizations Mr. Waters continuously contradicts his own arguments (I mean I suppose I understand - it must be hard to sort out your point of view when your head is so firmly up your own ass). He scolds us women folk for our fancy free ways of having fun and taking charge of what we want, then makes statements such as: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>This is great because it cuts out a lot of hard work that men used to have to go through to woo a woman to get what they ultimately want</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Let me get this straight Preston. You'd like women to shut their legs, but let you bang them. Hate to break it to you bud, but legs have to open for the whole penis in vagina part to happen. Pretty basic biology. Then he presents the reader with this gem of wisdom:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>...when we actually find a unicorn and settle down, our ego gets a bit ahead of ourselves and we find them a bit too boring for our liking, so we decide to cheat.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So all women are sluts, but there's rare ones that are pure and wonderful, but therefore are boring, so cheating on them with the aforementioned sluts is inevitable. Well isn't that just a cheery thought. We all might as well all give up on the opposite sex right now. Clearly the concept that men cheat with sluts, so women become sluttier to keep men's attention hasn't occurred to Preston.</span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Broken <strike>Penis</strike> Perception</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The continuous use of the term 'broken' when referring to women is disturbing. We're not dolls, nor are we wild horses. Mr. Waters' notion of what make a woman broken is strangely similar to what others would call confident and independent. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Our friend Preston shows signs of intelligent life when he states</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>...we are eventually going to want more out of a female than just sex</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Oh you mean we're good for more than a place to put your dick? What a relief. What Preston doesn't seem to grasp is that the situation is the same for women. Eventually women will want more from men than just a living dildo. That's what growing up entails. The point in everyone (male and female)'s lives that is driven by their genitals is short lived so why not peruse it while you can? This could simply be the thoughts of a woman "just living life and having fun", but out of your 80 some years you're on this earth, you're going to have a max of 10 of those during which you'll participate in the meat market scene so why not jump in to it groin first? Or don't. The point is that it's <i>your</i> choice how to use your body. It doesn't matter if you're a slut, a compulsive masturbator, a prude, a tease, or a virgin - none of these titles will last forever because they're more a phase of life than a title of identity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Mr. Waters speaks of the impossible woman who values herself so much so that she'll be an inexperienced starfish when she marries the love of her life (Preston himself I presume), yet he admits:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>...it is a fantasy that doesn't actually exist.When you actually meet one, you will refuse to admit she's real anyways.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Well then it seems man kind is just shit outta luck on this one. Might as well grab a stripper right off the stage you've been drooling all over, slap a ring on her finger and put a baby up in that bitch.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">This article makes me ever the more glad I'm dating a man who's exactly that - a man. Not a whiny bitch who clearly can't settle on what he wants in a woman. I chalk Preston's views up to being friend zoned one too many times. His hand must be <i>exhausted</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Preston Waters puts all women in to two categories: slutty and dumb, or virtuous and intelligent. The concept of an intelligent, self sufficient, confident woman with gumption is apparently an extinct species in Preston's world. Despite what he seems to believe, education and life experience doesn't evaporate from our vapid little heads the moment we come in contact with a penis. His views of women are mindbogglingly narrow and shallow.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Let women and men alike do whatever the hell they want with their body because it's </span><i style="line-height: 18px;">their</i><b style="font-style: italic; line-height: 18px;"> </b><span style="line-height: 18px;">body to decide what to do with. The views of an online Neanderthal should not (and I'm sure do not) have any impact on what dress you're going to wear out tonight and who you're going to give a hummer to later on. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But hey. I'm just a silly woman. What do I know.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Ps - I resent Preston Waters statement that unicorns aren't real.</span></span></div>
KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-32363867698534844742013-08-23T12:55:00.000-07:002013-08-23T12:55:54.287-07:00Atrociously Asinine Adolescents...Again August 23, 2013<br />
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I'm going to keep this one short because I want to wipe the memory of this utterly craptastic work of fiction out of my head ASAP.<br />
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I made the mistake of reading the first of the City of Bones series by Cassandra Claire. It. Was. Awful.<br />
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I knew heading in to it that City of Bones wasn't going to be stellar, but I didn't expect it to be subpar to Twilight. I didn't even know it was possible to sink lower than 100 year old virgins and whiny warewolves but Cassandra Clare has powered through and supremely lowered the IQs of tweens everywhere.<br />
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This "novel" pulled cliches from every teen story out there. We've got:<br />
- A heroine who doesn't know how attractive she is.<br />
- The geeky friend who secretly has a thing for said girl.<br />
- The mysterious stranger whom the girl finds annoying but pops a lady boner at the sight of .<br />
- An absentee parent, and one remaining parent who keeps secrets "to protect their child".<br />
- Magic.<br />
- Crazy young characters. Fifteen years old? I'm pretty sure I was still excited about shopping at Claire's when i was fifteen.<br />
- Magestic makeover scene turning the heroine from mousy to slutty.<br />
- Geeky understated friend saves the day with unknown talents.<br />
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<i>Rant Time</i><br />
Why is it in these damn books that the heroine finds some skill set she never knew she had that saves her hide? Why couldn't it have been more like:<br />
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"The Revener pounded across the living room floor and tore Clary's esophagus from her throat before feasting on her tiny brain and bleeding heart."</div>
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Way more fun.<br />
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Claire crams as many mythical stereotypes in her story as she possibly can (but still no Unicorns...they're probably too good for this <strike>slander</strike> <strike>disappointment</strike> book).<br />
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<i>I would rather be eaten by Voldemort than be a part of this atrocity!</i></div>
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In addition to New York now being awash with mythical beings, we learn that these "runes" (which are never properly explained) can make Clary draw objects to life. Oh good. Just what we need. Do me a favor sweetheart and draw me a bottle of JD and a gun.</div>
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One last dig at this pile of compost - Cassandra <b>Clare</b> names her heroine <b>Clary.</b> Are you kidding me. Look CC. I know your life must be dull and your couponing can only get you through so many days, but next time you try LSD and have a 3 day trip in your basement, keep the story to yourself. I can find paper elsewhere to line my cat's litter box with.</div>
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Fail.</div>
KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-16678362441192312892013-08-16T11:56:00.001-07:002014-03-28T10:25:52.938-07:00Fembots and Fairytales<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">August 16, 2013</span><br />
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Upon a friend's suggestion, the next "work of literature" (note the parenthesis - the most sarcastic of all punctuation) I set out to read was Cinder. My love for classic fairytales has been challenged in the past year with movies such as Snow White and the Huntsman with <strike>Grumpy Cat</strike> Kristen Stewart, so I hoped that a book adaptation of a classic might have a bit more to offer. </span><br />
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This book is a strange combination of Inspector Gadget, Princess Diaries, Hunger Games, and of course Cinderella. Big kudos to Marissa Meyer for imagination. Taking on the task of rebooting a classic like Cinderella is daunting. The most I could probably do with it is make her a tranny (surprise Prince Charming! Your new wife has a dick!).</span><br />
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<br /><i><b>Wicked Wins </b></i></span><br />
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Cinder's step mom was a fantastically developed character. What an utterly repellent bitch! Selling her daughter's possessions within minutes of her being carted off to die? Naming your daughters Pearl and Peony? Scandalous and deliciously evil. Being the evil step mother carries a lot of responsibility to be brooding and nasty, and Adri lives up to the title. It's a pretty iconic roll. In the case of this novel, I have to say I agree with Adri on many points. Cinder makes a lot of selfish choices, and I think it's only natural to choose your own (human) daughters over the pet project cyborg your dead husband picked up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Evil is such a strong word. She's probably just menopausal.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Levana, the queen bee/alien empress/royal bombshell, is the real one who deserves the evil title. What a c-u-next-tuesday that one is. I'm brimming with jealousy over her ability to alter other's perceptions and thoughts. What a handy little feature! Especially when drunk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hot guy: "WTF you just puked on my jeans" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: "Or did I....." </span></div>
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I can't help but picture Iko, Cinder's personal <strike>bitch</strike> drone, looking like the love child of Wall-e and Eva. Which is amazing because I've always wanted an Eva (Wall-e not so much. Doesn't know how to mind his own business - too much of a keener).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Just adorable...or just farted</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Ques Que Fuck?</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As always, I had a few questions when reading this novel:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Why is she still called Cinder? She's a grease monkey. Something like "Ratchet" or "Sparkplug" would be more appropriate. It's hardly as though the audience would miss the Cinderella reference between the bitchy step mom and the hoity toity prince.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-As a cyborg, would she be an objectiphile? Obviously she's attracted to the prince, but she did seem to have a bit of a thing for that gasoline car in the junkyard too. Just sayin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Why is there no mention of animals? Not even a bird or a bug. Are <b>all</b> animals extinct in the future? </span><br />
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-Why did we decide to repopulate China of all places? Canada has more room, more varied climates and landscapes, and Ryan Gosling. China has rice and KPop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Exactly how much control does Cinder have over her mechanical hand? For example, if she was to give the prince a handy - would she crush his royal member?</span><br />
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-WHY WOULD YOU STOP A BOOK THERE MEYER? Rude. Cliff hangers are for TV episodes, not books. How will it continue considering the rumor is that the next book is about another fairytale? Please, please, please don't tell me Meyer is going to mix stories. GOD FORBID if she mixes the Grimms with Hans Christian Anderson.</span><br />
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My favorite quote of the book was near the beginning when the Prince and Cinder first meet:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>“I can’t get her to turn on...</i></span><span style="background-color: white;"><i>She was working fine one day, and the next, nothing"</i> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">HA! How representative of many a man's sentiment towards the rubix cube that is women. Classic.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I was surprised with how much I actually enjoyed this book. I'm sure the Grimm Brothers are rolling in their graves at the mere thought of a robot princess, but it was entertaining and an easy read. I do still like the original better - you really can't beat self mutilation stories. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The "twist" was predictable, but still a good aspect to mix up the original plot line of classic Cindy. I did miss the fairy godmother, because she's a badass, but I do appreciate the "make your own magic" message.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Four amputees out of five.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-90120550738362200112013-07-10T08:47:00.001-07:002014-03-28T10:26:48.008-07:00The Last 50 Shades - Putting the "Kin" in "Kink"<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">July 10, 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So it has come to this. Books about married person sex. Who. The. Hell. Cares.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The title of the third book made me smirk - Fifty Shades Freed. Ironic no? Considering that they've tied the knot as well as the bondage ropes, free is not exactly the word that comes to mind. If I had the audacity to edit the title, I'd go with something like Fifty Shades of Monotonous Monogamy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was very disappointed to learn that Christian and Anastasia actually tied the knot. Go ahead, celebrate your love and junk, just please wait until the last chapter of an erotic novel to drop off the sexy scale. No one wants to read about married people humping. It brings up images of your parents humping. And that's gross. Nothing makes sex less kinky than when it's sacred in the eyes of God. Except maybe when you husband tells you not to pee before you do it. Frankly, that's just plain rude. It's vexing to me that Anastasia won't listen to Christian regarding her work schedule, but she's willing to let her husband tell her when she's allowed to tinkle? I read once that if you continuously hold it, you can create urine crystals in you bladder. And that sounds painful. Although considering Christian's affinity for masochism, that could be the end goal - bladder stalagmites and stalactites? How erotic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I'm sure her vag is just as cavernous and well lit</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If the elaborate dwelling and drooling over the God that is Christian Grey didn't tell us that this series was written by a <strike>desperate</strike> <strike>lonely</strike> imaginative woman, we certainly catch on as Christian constantly pushes money and clothes on Ana, violently defends her honor, and tells her to gain weight. Which is every woman's wet dream, and completely unrealistic. Bill Gates probably doesn't even tell his wife to go spend his fortune. That's how he stays so rich. Next thing you know Christian will be telling Ana "Get 6 cats. Cat dander gets me hard".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Sister Wives</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christian's brother proposes to Ana's best friend. Another wet dream for woman kind. Too bad they fought for half the length of their relationship before he popped the question. And on that note, does everyone in Portland get married after 6.5 dates? Maybe if they waited they could find nice normal guys who let them piss when they want to and don't touch their tampons. I regress. The club the big happy family goes to when Elliot & Kate get engaged sounds abhorrent. Like the ones you purposely cancel plans for last minute to avoid. As James renders:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The music is pulsing, a techno beat with a thumping base line. The dance floor isn't crowded, which means we have some space. The mix is eclectic - young and old alike dancing the night away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This description reminds me of a club called Sound Garden in Lethbridge, AB. The one sure place to get date raped and watch a 60 year old overweight woman in leather pants dance on the speakers every Friday and Saturday night. I'll pass thanks. Although if I was brought to a place like this to celebrate my engagement, a handful of roofies, or Forgetmenow's as Gob Bluth calls them, might not be the worst idea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Last Ditch Attempt at S&M</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christian gets even more rapey with his fantasies in Fifty Shades Freed. Asking your wife to struggle with you when you tie her up? Why don't you just ask her to walk through a parking lot at night and you'll grab her ankle and drag her underneath a truck. Any air of eroticism this scene had to it was lost when Christian utters:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, baby, fight me</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! That's just literary gold! Followed by their word diarrhea of one word demands, it was too much for me to handle. My staff must've thought I'd gone off the deep end as I was reading on my computer, snickering behind my desk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>The Lighter Shades of Grey</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll give E.L. White this much - the ending was good. Well, until it got all emotional and junk again. But in the midst of the action I was enjoying the change of pace- guns and kidnapping always helps kick things up a notch. I momentarily held a vain hope that Ana was going to die but was viciously snapped out of my day dream when Christian came to the rescue. Ah well. It was very short lived, but was enough to get me through the end of the book and series. And cushion the awkwardness of Christian carrying Ana to the bathroom and listening to her pee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was potentially the worst part of the entire series. Just. Horrendous. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can we talk about how they named their first kid Ted? What an <b>awful</b> name for anyone under the age of 80. So many things rhyme with Ted too - that poor bastard is going to be completely tormented at whatever waspy private school he's sent to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why are they having bondage sex when she's 6 months prego? That's such a disturbing image! Certainly brings up some fetish concerns.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did they make Ana have a c-section to preserve her theoretical vag? Because that's hilarious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This one was definitely the least enjoyable of the 3 books. Just the fact that it took me this long to want to pick it up back up and power through the pages says something. And that's coming from a girl who spent 4 months studying Chaucer. This one might even be worse than Twilight. I know. That bad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Overall, I'm going to smack the series with a solid 43%. By that I mean I only was entertained 43% of the time reading it, and the 57% I was looking for the next sex scene or wishing it was illustrated.</span><br />
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-78792048676123164492013-06-07T07:49:00.000-07:002014-03-28T10:27:07.454-07:00Love Me, Love My Ball Gag<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">June 7, 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me preface my lamenting by saying the second book in the series was better than the first. Perhaps it's because I've gotten over my initial skepticism, but I enjoyed it more overall. Stalkers and guns and cougars oh my.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Starting with the title - Fifty Shades Darker. Ominous. Bonus points. Clearly darker doesn't always mean better, but James made a valiant attempt to provide a couple plot points that didn't make me want to hang myself in the red room. Much less "he's playing with my emotions" and much more "he's playing with my tits". Of which I highly approve.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Secondly, I was pleasantly surprised when E L James threw in a couple words that were above a grade 6 reading level. Inveigle and avuncular? Great words. Still doesn't make up for the others, such as "fuckery" and "nifty", but it gets an A for effort nevertheless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another admirable detail (listen to me going on! I'm going to give off the impression I'm a fan of the series if I'm not careful) was E L James' careful consideration to having Christian take off his socks before each rondevue. In high school, a friend of mine dated a guy, let's call him Chris Smith, who always kept his socks on during the act (and all acts leading up to the act). We fondly called him "only socks Smith". Only socks Grey just doesn't have the same ring to it, so I applaud James' attention to detail.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Back to Business</i></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was snorting with laughter as I read the lipstick outlining scene. That mental image of Christian Grey marked up like a cow at the butcher just reminded me entirely too much of plastic surgery consults which is quite possibly the least erotic process ever.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hawt.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's just touch on the not-quite-a-pregnancy-scare. Ana is horrified by the mere suggestion that she might be pregnant (for a whole 1.5 minutes), but is then annoyed when Christian is freaked out by the prospect too...what? Talk about a double standard. This girl is the paradigm of bipolar. She's either got mental health issues, or is easily swayed in to changing herself for a dude. One minute she's breaking up with him over being spanked, the next she's begging for it. She doesn't want to be pregnant, but then gets her panties in a twist when her boyfriend doesn't want a kid either. She's mad at him, then gets turned on, then starts crying all in the span of a 3 minute shower. Figure your shit out Ana and talk to your doctor about Lithium.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Character "Development"</i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since the first book, Christian has become a pussy. In Fifty Shades of Grey he was domineering, decisive and despotic. In Fifty Shades Darker he's become petulant, pitiful and poignant. Ugh. So much for my lady boner. Sure the puppy dog man seems adorable on the surface, but it's hard to remember that initial attraction once his droning whine has become a permanent fixture and he's piddled on your new carpet. We've all had shit in our past Christian. Stop it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christian's food fascination also develops in the second book. I understand that he was malnourished as a kid (probably should be thanking his past for the chiseled physique we read about today), but it's beyond the boarder of obsessive. Maybe the fourth book, Fifty Flavours of Grey, will be about splooshing. Now <i>that</i> I'd read. (If you don't know what splooshing is, go look it up and have a good laugh)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The second book of the series has made me confused which side I'm on. On one hand, Ana is insufferably emotional, but can be reasonable (for example, needing to work and not ride on Christian...'s money). On the other hand, Christian's ludicrous expectations & possessiveness is infuriating to even the reader, but he's rich and hot. See my predicament? Maybe I'll be on team Taylor. He seems like a reasonable and upstanding man on a nice payroll.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We finally get a look into Grey's history (as if you couldn't predict it already) when he spits out this gem:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">"I'm a sadist, Ana. I like to whip little brown-haired girls like you because you all look like the crack whore - my birth mother."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Jesus Christ girl, T Swift is right. This is </span><i style="line-height: 18px;"> way</i><span style="line-height: 18px;"> scarier than the slag with the gun. RUN. RUN FAST AND RUN FAR. Christian makes Oedipus look look like a misguided teenager with this one. As if the chest full of butt plugs didn't scream "emotionally unstable" on it's own. Let's break this down. Sadist - A person who enjoys being cruel. Whip - A tool used for corporal punishment or to train animals. Crack whore - Not an appropriate name to call your mother, even if she was a lady of the night who used drugs on a recreational basis. There should have been an Ana shaped hole in his wall before this sentence was even finished being uttered.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Homework</i></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's some things to think about boys and girls:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Is anyone else curious as to what Anastasia's bi-polar "inner goddess" looks like? She has to have a physical form if she can "jerk awake suddenly, all disheveled with a just fucked look". And on that note, who's fucking her?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Ana is remarkably okay after having a gun pointed at her and a potential rape take place within a 24 hour period...shouldn't she be more shaken? And by shaken, I mean shouldn't she be crying in the fetal position in the shower corner, surrounded by empty Ben & Jerry's containers and <b>not</b> getting bound and banged by her sadist boyfriend?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Ana's rapey boss' name is Jack Hyde. A man who's friendly one minute and angry the next named Jack Hyde. Real original James. Robert Louis Stevenson isn't just rolling in his grave, he's violently convulsing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. How did the crazy ex get a gun licence in a day? I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure a dirty hoe with crazy eyes can't just grab one at the checkout counter with her gum.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. The dating circles are so tightly knit it's almost incest. Grey & Ana are dating. Ana's roommate is dating Grey's brother. Ana's roommate's brother is dating Grey's sister. Do you think at family dinners they just look at each other and cringe across the table thinking "I've heard what you sound like during your vinegar strokes"?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm feeling generous, so I'll give Fifty Shades Darker two ball gags out of five. Not based on literary merit, just on comparison basis with Fifty Shades of Grey. But as far as shit literature goes, it'll do pig, it'll do.</span></div>
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-47611575056796550202013-05-13T18:33:00.002-07:002014-03-28T10:27:28.131-07:00Gagging on Glitter - The Great Gatsby<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May 13, 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been waiting for The Great Gatsby to come out in theaters for what seems like years (in actuality it's only been about 6 months since I found out, but that's a very long time in over-eager-English graduate time). I bought tickets online, paid the absolutely ludicrous price for reserved seating, laughed as the Asian couple in front of me got kicked out of a series of seats before settling in to their assigned seats (in the neck breaking front row), and wore the uber flattering 3D glasses. All things that could have affected my movie experience, but nothing could ruin Gatsby. <b>I. Loved. It. </b>It was like falling through a glamorous rabbit hole as you're transported through the screen's ornate gold frame into the 1920s.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It got such awful reviews (only 48% on Rotten Tomatoes), but clearly these people are ignorant <strike>cunts</strike> idiots because it was fabulous in every sense of the word. This movie epitomizes #firstworldproblems and #whitepersonproblems and makes you marvel at the power of Gatsby's clean up crew.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Plot</i></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">90% of the movie was identical to the book - super impressive and unheard of in Hollywood. Very minor variations (no mention of Dan Cody for example) which didn't affect it's AWESOMENESS.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's always bothered me a bit that Tom has an affair with Myrtle (lets be serious - the mistress is never a ginger), and I wish the movie had shown a bit more of the scandal but what you did see (Joel Edgerton with sex hair and an even more awkward than usual Tobey Maguire) was fun times. Many of the iconic lines were still used which made me happy. In particular, the verbose Jordan Baker:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Truth.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Cast</i></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The casting director needs a raise and a round of slow claps. Well done. And that's from someone who thinks Carey Mulligan is one of the most boring celebutants of all time. I was even okay with her lesbian bob because she wore shiny hair accessories to distract from it. Movie Tom was significantly less racist and crude which was not as much fun, but understandable. I don't know how many more off color (haha...puns...) jokes I can take after Django Unchained anyways. Joel Edgerton was the perfect mix of dominant, scary and sexy for the role and his perve-stache was an excellent addition. Isla Fisher might as well not have even been in the credits with her solid 6:32 minutes of screen time, but she made an excellent corpse. I would have liked to see them pad her bra a bit considering Myrtle was supposed to be bootylicious, but I have pretty high tit standards (Cs and up or it doesn't count). Tobey Maguire. Stop it. Why don't you have lips. But still a good choice for Nick Carraway (although someone like Ewan McGregor could have pulled it off and been dead sexy). Leo was a perfectly overbearing wreck of a man as Gatsby and executed yet another water death (well I might add). Somebody needs to get that man some water wings.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Costumes/Props</i></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Un. Real.</i> I'm sure many of Carey's dresses were uncomfortable as eff, but that's what being a woman's all about! The Gatsby mansion is a man made marvel in which I could comfortably house each pair of my shoes in their own room and still have space to harbor everyone I know. And Gatsbys closet. O Em Gee. Carrie Bradshaw's panties would be sopping at the mere sight of that closet space. The cars would have a similar effect on anyone with an ounce of testosterone (and many without). I wonder if Leo gets to take any of them home...as if he needs any more props to solidify his lady killer status.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Score</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The soundtrack is interesting. Jay Zs contributions really add to the expensive feel. Only truly rich people can sing about other rich people. Each scene was complimented very well with each song. It's a bit off when I jam to it in my Prius, but I like to pretend I'm a balla.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone needs to see this movie. Stop reading and go see it. It exceeded my expectations on every level and for a true classic to be turned into a major blockbuster and me not to hate it, is a damn miracle (*cough* Narnia, Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet *cough*). This movie will make you want to tackle your wardrobe with Michael's sequins and drink champagne with your morning cheerios. It makes alcoholism look glamorous and abusive relationships look chic. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Five spilled martinis and a drunk text out of five.</span><br />
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-51096350318917742012013-05-07T18:00:00.002-07:002013-05-13T14:14:06.137-07:00Lolita - Nymphet or Nympho?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May 7, 2013</span><br />
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After the brain numbing experience that was 50 Shades of Grey, I needed to partake in some actual literature before delving in to the second part of the trilogy. I chose to stick with the theme and take a stab at a book that's been on my list for years - Lolita by Vladimir Nabukov.</span><br />
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The differences between James and Nabukov was <b>astounding </b> and almost comical. When describing the throws of passion, James depicted the alluring act:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"“Oh Ana!" he cries out loudly as he finds his release, holding me in place as he pours himself into me. He collapses, panting hard beside me, and he pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my hair, hold me close. "Oh baby," he breathes. "</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;">and Nabukov wrote:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 21px;">"...</span><span style="color: #000042;">we would sprawl </span><span style="color: #000042;">all morning, in a petrified paroxysm of desire, and take advantage of every </span><span style="color: #000042;">blessed quirk in space and time to touch each other: her hand, half-hidden </span><span style="color: #000042;">in the sand, would creep toward me, its slender brown fingers sleepwalking </span><span style="color: #000042;">nearer and nearer; then, her opalescent knee would start on a long cautious </span><span style="color: #000042;">journey; sometimes a chance rampart built by younger children granted us </span><span style="color: #000042;">sufficient concealment to graze each other's salty lips; these incomplete </span><span style="color: #000042;">contacts drove our healthy and inexperienced young bodies to such a state of </span><span style="color: #000042;">exasperation that not even the cold blue water, under which we still clawed </span><span style="color: #000042;">at each other, could bring relief."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #000042;">FOR REAL. What a difference! I know that comparing wanna be BDSM fiction from 2011 with classic Russian literature from 1955 is like comparing Rebecca Black with Mozart but I'm going to anyways. So you need to deal with it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #000042;">Nabukov plunges head first into Humbert's pedopheliac tendencies, but he describes them in such a lovely way that it took me a few paragraphs to be disgusted: </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #000042;">"Now I wish to introduce the following idea. Between the age limits of </span><span style="color: #000042;">nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travelers, </span><span style="color: #000042;">twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not </span><span style="color: #000042;">to designate as "nymphets." Human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I </span><span style="color: #000042;">propose."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #000042;">Now how nice is that. If I was a kid about to be hit on by an old Russian man, I would totally want to be called a nymphet. Then I could wear sparkles and wings and not be a weirdo (or a stripper).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Weirdo or stripper? You decide.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another reason I was okay with the strongly creepy verbiage of Lolita is that it's very self aware. Humbert fully admits that he's a creepshow and is slightly ashamed, but also concedes that it is what it is. Here we are again at "whatever floats your boat". It's almost lyrical how Nabukov describes our protagonists's book covering his raging boner while watching little girls play in the park or jacking off while watching a tween girl undress in her room across the street. Ahh the fancy-free days of yore.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #000042;">As Humbert and Lolita's <strike>consensual abduction</strike> relationship continues, we learn that Lolita is not the young, virtuous, care free young girl Humbert likes to think of her as. She's a gold digging attention whore that likes to play games. She feeds Humbert's severe delusions and twists him around in such a way that makes Taylor Swift look sane.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #000042;">The only persnickety comments I had were very minimal:</span></span><br />
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During our "hero's" short marriage, he neglects his marital duties, calling his wife "stale" (which is fair I suppose when you're used to pre-pubescents), but is still infuriated when he finds out she's been cheating on him. Good riddance to stale rubbish I say! Although I must admit I found it hilarious that his idea of revenge consisted of sleeping with the lover's little sister and then shooting himself.</span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He accepts room and board at a complete dump of a house because Lolita is the land lady's daughter. My face was creased in disgust just reading the description of the hair in the bathtub and the brown apple core in the living room - but it's tolerable for some puerile ass? No man (or child) in the world could make me live in a hoarder's closet like the one Nabukov describes. </span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The awkward scene when he licks her eye. What, the eff. Mmmm eye goop...?</span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lolita's a brat. Straight up. Spoiled and frankly quite annoying. She's lucky Humbert's attracted to her. Otherwise he probably would've used the discipline side of his hand on her for snooping around in his shit never mind employing her very overactive sexuality at the ripe age of TWELVE. <i>*coughslutcough*</i></span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Delores, or Lolita, reminds Humbert of his first love as a kid. This begs the question - is he really and truly a human incarnation of the pedo bear, or is he just stuck on his first girlfriend?</span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Humbert keeps a log of his interactions with Lolita (<i>1:32pm - she just took off her bandaid. Note to self: retrieve from garbage to add to Lolita shrine)</i> which is naturally found by his fiance/Lolita's mother/his landlady. WHY would you keep a journal like that? At least encrypt it in some sweet code or something. I feel as though if Humbert's smart enough to fake insomnia to get sleeping pills to drug his bride to be and daughter, he can do a better job of hiding his lewd chicken scratch. </span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's too many coincidences: </span></li>
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<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His first wife is cheating on him. With who you may ask? Oh the cab driver that just randomly picked them up. Handy.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He doesn't want to get married to Lolita's stalker land lady of a mother. No problem, she'll get hit by a car before the wedding.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The play Lolita's in is called "The Enchanted Hunter". The name of the hotel Humbert first bangs Lolita in is called "Enchanted Hunters". Hmm.</span></li>
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<span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nabukov deals out some serious poetic justice when Humber finds a knocked up Lolita near the end of the book. The whole "child with child" imaginary is as macabre as the rest of the well composed novel. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #000042; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All in all, I give Lolita 5 pedo bears out of 5. It's extremely creepy, but in the most beautifully written way possible. And when it comes down to it, isn't beauty all that matters? Well, beauty and girls that are too young to run fast I've learned.</span></div>
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881902837697534184.post-33212674546339545942013-05-05T19:40:00.000-07:002013-05-13T14:14:18.225-07:0050 Shades of Underwhelmed Indifference<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May 5, 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friends often get frustrated with me for ragging on their favorite books and movies. As much as I love to torment their tastes, I've always been a big supporter of "whatever floats your boat" and "to each their own". No matter how much I despise chick flicks and Harlequin romance novels, there's a reason they're still being created - so be it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, trilogies of books have been popping up, completely disparaging the term "literature". You know which ones they are. These necrophiliac themed tragedies have captured the hearts and imaginations of tweens and teens the world over (and a few select groups of sad adults). As un-enthralled as I was with the concept of bestiality and 107 year old virgins, I had to read the books before being able to make any valid argument against this series. And rest assured, I've now made my views very well known to my circle of friends (don't even get me started on the grammar error on page 619 in Eclipse). So when I found myself teasing my friends for reading 50 Shades of Grey, I had to stop myself and read the book before continuing my facetiousness. Here we go.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Plot:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to start by saying I applaud E L James' efforts to write a new-age romance novel. It certainly has shocked the masses, which is a great feat nowadays. As innovative as 50 Shades' subject matter may be, James does choose some good 'ol standbys that drive me MENTAL. </span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anastasia Steele. *Sigh*. I can not express to you how tired I am of female leads that are supposedly mousy innocent little flowers just ripe for the picking. I realize that these characters are most identifiable for the majority of the audience, but let's be serious. To land a guy as attractive, wealthy, emotional, well endowed, blah, blah, blah, as Mr. Grey, you'd need to be a 5'7 blonde smoke show with an affinity for Cirque Du Soleil style exercise. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr. Grey seems to be the most attractive male on the face of the earth. Every women who crosses his path is speechless at his dashing good looks, and all men are charmed by his witty fishing repartee. I don't doubt that he's a stud muffin, but how can he possibly appeal to every woman's taste? 90% of my friends are big fans of the illustrious Brad Pitt and Ryan Gosling, but I could take or leave them both. Neither are my style. Sure they're attractive, but my panties won't hit the ground with the velocity of a military jet at the sight of them. It all comes back to the "to each their own theory".</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because of Christian's whole package (no pun intended), poor chaste Anastasia agrees, despite the disconcerting legal requirements, to become his sub. The dominant and submissive culture is actually very fascinating, but from what I can tell with my light Google research, 50 Shades of Grey represents the true culture of BDSM about as much as Ducktales represents the lifestyle of a Mallard. While Christian is opening Anastasia up to new experiences, it seems as though Anastasia is closing Christian off from his preferences. Who exactly is the dom here?</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the first time Christian and Anastasia have sex, she acts like she's just been violated against her will. Sure, I get it that the first time can be a shock to the system, but if it was that traumatizing, why on earth would you continue with that man? When her bff, Kate, sees how upset Anastasia is, she's understandably concerned and infuriated. She plays the perfect role of the bff and immediately gets a hate on for Christian. Anastasia is inexplicably exasperated by her friend's loyalty (not to mention ragingly jealous of her looks). Grow up. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This inner goddess nonsense. Hey James - want to take a paragraph or two to explain to us why Anastasia is schizophrenic?</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anastasia climaxes within moments. Every. Single. Time. I call bullshit.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is Anastasia anorexic? Why does she hardly ever eat unless there's a man there to force it down her pretty little throat? Maybe Christian should pull an Alicia Silverstone and start pre-chewing Anastasia food for her.</span></li>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The good stuff:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sex scenes. Not bad. James certainly does have a knack for enthralling the reader and making their pulse race! Kudos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Much to my dismay, there were a few gory details that absolutely demolished my raising heart rate. For one, the invariably mentioned condom process. We get it, they're having safe sex. The process ruins the fluidity and eroticism of the real act, and even more so of the written act. I could have over looked this lackluster verbiage if not for one particularly disturbing scene. Stay with me on this one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Grey: "When did you start your period Anastasia"</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">KBK: "UHHHHH...That's kinda, scratch that, VERY personal"</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anastasia: "Err...yesterday" I mumble in my highly aroused state</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">KBK: "How is this broad still aroused. This has gone from panty soup to panty desert in 6 words"</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Grey: "Good." He releases me and turns me around. "Hold on to the sink," he orders and pulls my hips back again, like he did in the playroom, so I'm bending down. He reaches between my legs and pulls on the blue string...what?! and...gently takes my tampon out and tosses it into the nearby toilet.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">KBK: "AHHHHHHHGHGHGHHHHHH that was SO unnecessary and SO gross. JESUS EFFING CHRIST. Mental image...I'll never sleep again"</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Honestly James? Honestly? WHY. Why did you think it was sexy or necessary to invade the worst part of every woman's month and drag some poor unsuspecting guy in to it? If any guy ever wants to do THAT, it should be a big, flashing neon danger sign. Ugh. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The vanilla sex James describes is just that. Vanilla. Her one and only BJ in the book is given an "A", but is chronicled as the most basic of BJs (common Ana - no ball play?). I refuse to believe that Mr. Grey is actually blown away (pun completely intended) by this 64 second oral display.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All in all, much to my dismay, I didn't hate 50 Shades of Grey. On a scale of Twilight to Alice in Wonderland, this lands just below a Sweet Valley High book and just above a Nicholas Sparks novel. This is not to say I would ever re-read the book, suggest it to my friends, or consider it literature, but for a mindless 2 hours, it'll do.</span></div>
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KBKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16540614272220279769noreply@blogger.com0