so apparently pennsylvania is trying to destroy good music. radio 4 flipped their van leaving philly last night and thus their appearance at great scott’s in allston tonight is canceled. shit.
thankfully, no one in the band was hurt (could you imagine? that would be awful), but all their equipment is trashed. car accidents, wtf, man?
so, no concert tonight. may have to rock out in their honor anyway.
sad.
got my hair did today, it’s spiffy and super cute (also, not so heavy and retarded anymore!). AND i got really awesome boots. i tried on a pair at the mall (did not like the colors available at all, which must be why they were so cheap by comparison) and fell in love. ordered the exact object of my affection online. got a 15% discount to boot! aw hell yeah.
behold, shoe greatness:
the shoestravaganza does not end there, either. because my kick-ass rainboots up and died (there’s a fucking LEAK!) so now i need new galoshes. oh noes!
“Complain all you want. It’s like railing against the pounding surf. [Rachael Ray] only grows stronger and more powerful. Her ear-shattering tones louder and louder. We KNOW she can’t cook. She shrewdly tells us so. So…what is she selling us? Really? She’s selling us satisfaction, the smug reassurance that mediocrity is quite enough. She’s a friendly, familiar face who appears regularly on our screens to tell us that ‘Even your dumb, lazy ass can cook this!’ Wallowing in your own crapulence on your Cheeto-littered couch you watch her and think, ‘Hell…I could do that. I ain’t gonna…but I could—if I wanted! Now where’s my damn jug a Diet Pepsi?’ Where the saintly Julia Child sought to raise expectations, to enlighten us, make us better—teach us—and in fact, did, Rachael uses her strange and terrible powers to narcotize her public with her hypnotic mantra of Yummo and Evoo and Sammys. ‘You’re doing just fine. You don’t even have to chop an onion—you can buy it already chopped. Aspire to nothing…Just sit there. Have another Triscuit…Sleep….sleep….’”
—Anthony Bourdain
last night we finally saw slumdog millionaire. i don’t exactly know what i was expecting from the start but my god. utterly.blown.away.
i was definitely not expecting such a heart-stoppingly beautiful film. of course, everything that danny boyle does is fantastic, and i should’ve known better. trying not to judge the movie on hype alone (everyone i know has been telling me to watch it) we put it on late last night after not really much consideration. just one of those “oh man, i hate tv let’s watch a movie” things. definitely NOT disappointed.
this is a fast-paced, gritty, heavy-ass movie. a lot of it is fucked up and harsh, but really beautiful and moving at the same time. says the boy “it’s like an indian version of requiem for a dream”. it’s the kind of movie that totally punches you in the gut just to get your attention.
and normally i am not a fan of the generally “heartwarming” story. but this was done in such a way that it was fantastic, and if you get a happy ending it’s ok cuz it’s fucking earned.
love this movie.
love it.
