As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve developed quite a fabulous addiction to Netflix. Whether it’s rating movies I’ve seen or planning on methods for increasing the number of movies I can rate, I’m down with the Netflix. The strongest evidence of this is that I’ve taken to giving every day occurrences numbers of stars to designate their quality. Lunch today, for example, got three stars. My alarm clock malfunctioning at 3:00 A.M. and waking me up, on the other hand, got one star as did the sub-par shirt and tie combinations suggested by next month’s GQ, and the boob job on my local coffee shop’s waitress.
Oh! And recently when people ask me what my plans are for the weekend, I’ve found myself very naturally answering with what plans are and are not in my “queue.â€
Anyway, as I’ve also mentioned before, I’m too self-conscious to write reviews of the films I’ve seen as I know they won’t compare to what some of my more talented friends tend to come up with. Today, though, I realized that full-on reviews aren’t the only way to reflect the fruits of my film-watching labors. I can do snippets and avoid comparison to the critical titans of my generation.
Here goes nothing…
The Usual Suspects: Unusually good. (4 stars)
Fargo: Not fargo from perfect. (4 stars)
My Big Fat Greek Wedding: Mom? (3 stars)
The Bourne Identity: Maaatt Damon. (3 stars)
Memento: Something to remember Guy Ritchie by. (4 stars)
The Machinist: Grinds my gears. (1 star)
Accepted: Acceptable. (3 stars)
The Departed: Oh why’d they have to leave so soon? (5 stars)
Jackass – Number 2: A stinky dump that still took a load off. (3 stars)
The Rules of Attraction: A pretty twisted game. (3 stars)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: Addictive. (4 stars)
The OH in Ohio: OH no. (2 stars)
Wordplay: Tongue twisting. (3 stars)
The Princess Bride: I do. (3 stars)
No one stars so far, but with a recent suggestion of the nearly X-rated Shortbus, we’ll see how long that lasts.
If you claim to have any familiarity with ClubLand via Baltimore or DC, then I should only expect a resounding “YES!†if I ask if you know Libby Picken. And if you don’t know who she is… Well then, you just don’t know. She’s a scene girl and it’s her happy duty to be seen (and heard), so why haven’t you?
And at this point you’re probably wondering what the big deal is; she’s just another anonymous famous face, right? But chances are you’ve met her on any number of wild nights out on the town. Of course, the meeting was how you might expect to meet a truck at high speeds: with an impact that left you utterly devastated. Wobbly-legged, you probably walked away thinking “now I know.â€
And how could you not?! With a voice like that?! Yeah, she’s a singer. A good one too. Not the kind fueled by empty praise from close family and shampoo bottle fans, either. She’s the kind backing the likes of drum-and-bass legend, John B, and gracing the albums of international icon, Paul Oakenfold. Next time you’re speakers are about to burst through your trunk, or your eardrums are about to bleed amidst clouds of fog and lighting effects, listen for the faint, fluttery sigh and juxtaposed deep, breathy moan. That’s her, and she’s just made you fall in love with nothing but her sugar-spice voice.
And if not the voice, how not the legs?! Or the hair! Yeah, she’s a model too. Good enough to have walked across her share of catwalks in lingerie that would make your heart burst about as readily as your bass does to her tracks. The real kicker though is that Libby Picken, the type of girl that high school had you trained to expect to gloss you completely over, is about as down to Earth as a person can be.
So then why all the attention? Sounds like Libby Picken’s probably her own self-promoting dynamo. And yet, exposure remains her one hurdle. She’s a muse in need of your mice, and she wants to be friends. So click around and catch a look before she’s in rotation so heavy it needs to be measured in metric.
I signed up for a Netflix account about a week ago fully realizing that I barely had time to sleep anymore given my new work schedule, but that somehow I was going to become as well versed in cinema as the people I tend to be around. I don’t like TV, and frankly trying to watch the shows everyone seems to be currently humming about would be an impossibility because, frankly, I just don’t have the time or interest (I swear, if I hear one more thing about Heroes, I might punch somebody). Movies, however, I can get into.
In just a few days, I had rated several hundred movies I’ve already seen at some point or another, and had queued about several hundred more. I’ve watched four movies already WordPlay, The Princess Bride, The OH in Ohio and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I’m trying my best to limit myself to one movie a day, which you’d think would be easy as I generally don’t get access to a television between the hours of 7 AM and 10 PM, but already I can feel an addiction starting. I’m also fighting the urge to start blogging about movies here, as I’m quite certain I couldn’t hold a candle to some people I know.
Save one disc that came damaged, I’m having a ball with my new account which I’m financing with money I saved by canceling my gym membership in favor of the free sports club at job 3 of 3. If you’ve got an account, friend me so I can spy your queue!