SPOILER ALERT: If you’ve never seen the 1990 Bill Murray film “Quick Change,” I’m giving away a few things in here. Nothing TOTALLY crucial, but you may want to skip this if you plan on seeing it.
CAVEAT TO SPOILER ALERT: You know what? If you haven’t seen it by now - 24 years later - you’ll probably never see it. So, go ahead & read this. Also, Tyler Durden’s actually just in Ed Norton’s head.*
Okay, so I’m not saying “Quick Change” is that great of a movie.
And I’m REALLY not saying it’s the greatest Bill Murray movie.
Considering what he’d done up until then & what he went onto do later,
it’s one of those slightly forgotten films that just slips through cracks.
Yeah, it’s funny, but it also has some strangely poignant moments.
And the screenwriter must’ve stolen my dream journal, putting in the part where Geena Davis is wearing a million dollars in her unmentionables.
Then there’s Jason Robards,
& Randy Quaid’s typically stellar performance.
Oh, wait. That was more recent.
Anyhoo, Murray also co-directed it, so it holds a special place in my heart.
If you’re not familiar with this flick, here’s how it basically plays out:
• Murray robs a bank as a clown
• He holds hostages in the vault, while negotiating with the cops
• He then exits as a hostage, along with Davis, who’s also in on it
• The rest of the film is them trying to get out of Manhattan
Yeah, that’s about it. Not a perfect story, but it’s still a guilty pleasure of mine.
The point is, I regret the fact that pretty much anybody trying to rob a bank dressed as a clown has completely ignored this tactic.
And it’s actually happened more often than you’d think.
This delusional mother of two did it in Allentown & fucked it up.
Same with this West Virginian dolt. Super fail.
Basically, almost all of the clown robbery scenarios were just in it for a quick smash-and-grab.
But if they’d simply used “Quick Change” as a blueprint, they might’ve wound up sitting on the perfect heist.
Obviously, this is a gross generalization. Maybe a few tried it this way back when this flick came out & they got busted. I don’t know.
But it’s not like you’d be patterning your bank job after a film anybody’s ever SEEN.
Again, I don’t know. Maybe a few copycat heists didn’t work out the way the clowns planned. After all, it’s a Hollywood screenplay, as opposed to reality.
That’s why my next heist will be based note-for-note, beat-for-beat on “Thunderbolt & Lightfoot.”
Nah. Can’t be THAT simple.
* It’s been 15 years since “Fight Club” was released. Refer to my CAVEAT TO SPOILER ALERT above before you get pissed.
I regret the fact that Ebola’s hurting the industries that are already having such a hard time keeping their doors open.
Dammit, Ebola. Some people are just trying to make a living here.
I also regret that as good an idea as this is,
I’d probably never follow through with it for whatever reason, be it guilt or laziness.
And speaking of lazy, I’ve been thinking about THIS show lately:
No idea why.
More to the point, I’ve been thinking about whatever happened to the actress who played Stephanie.
Well, we obviously live in a society where finding out things takes no time at all. And I regret finding most of the stuff that’s out there.
Besides the rampant stories about her that are obviously untrue,
I found myself disgusted by the amount of inappropriate sexualization of an actress who was only 13-16 years old when she did this show,
But I guess it’s the Internet & I shouldn’t expect anything better from it.
Luckily, Julianna Mauriello seems to be focusing on the positive, as opposed to giving into this bullshit.
Mostly, I want her to keep acting. I mean, how kickass would it be if Stephanie from Lazy Town turned out to be in a Wonder Woman movie?
Or turned out to be the next Streep?
I don’t know why I care so much. After blowing up so early, she’s probably done with this shit. But I’m one of those people who digs the idea of actors beating the child actor curse.
If anything, I just hope she at least succeeds more than THIS guy.
I’ll make this shit short.
I regret that I’m not hardcore badass enough to buy a ticket/take a cruise on the Motörboat.
That’s right. Lemmy & the boys have a cruise ship. And with the price of admission, you get Motörhead melting your fucking face, miles out at sea.
And we all know what’s possible if you’re out in international waters.
"I now pronounce you husband & cat. You may now clean each other."
The thing is, as much as I dig Motörhead, I’m not so obsessed with them that I’d wanna commit $150 to reserve a cabin or whatever.
I also feel like once I walked onto a ship like this, I’d feel obliged to “rock out” with the other passengers.
Which I probably wouldn’t do. And if I did, I’d wind up getting stuck talking to somebody like THIS guy.
He’d spend most of our 2 1/2-hour conversation, trying to convince me why System Of A Down is the most underrated band EVER.
Then there’d be THIS dude,
who I’d find myself waking up next to, covered in used, Motörhead brand condoms.
Ultimately, I figure I’d wind up being THIS guy.
Fucking oblivious & completely unsure of how I even got there.
I also have a stupid thing that I’ve tried to get over, but it still sits in the back of my mind. I always believed that if I’m not the BIGGEST fan of some artist, being at one of their concerts or crazy events is basically a disservice.
I don’t know what concert these turds are at. But from the looks of them, they probably have no real interest in whoever’s playing, especially the Goddamned muffhead in the Oscar the Grouch shirt.
Let’s forget them for a second. Look at the couple over the middle guy’s shoulder:
She’s not having ANY of this shit. It’s fucking palpable. And the guy next to her is feeling every bit of contempt for being dragged to this - I don’t know, let’s say it’s a - Phish concert.
I feel like I’m a conglomeration of ALL these people when I’m at a concert by a band that I’m iffy on. Which is why, as much as I think Motörhead’s Motörboat would be cool on a few levels, I regret that I just couldn’t hack it.
Also, I’m a REALLY sloppy drunk.
I go to the same place for lunch every day. If people aren’t trailing me, I generally sit down with a book & read. Currently, it’s this.*
Well, today I was at the same table I’m always perched at. And while I’m chomping on a Philly Cheesesteak & reading interviews with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan & Genesis P-Orridge, I hear this grating harpy of a voice talking on the phone.
It was this trick:
A few random things I learned from her conversation:
• “They record everything, you know? Don’t say anything out loud.”
• "You can’t trust Germans. Just listen to their language."
• “Hip-hop is devil music. Listen to it & you’re going to Hell.”
• "Big Brother is watching now more than ever. Remember that."
• “Legos. I said Legos. That’s right. Are you listening? Legos.”
• "Why do you think girls are wearing those tights as pants?" **
It went on like this for more than 20 minutes. "Well, why were you eavesdropping?" you may be asking.
Quite simply, I had NO FUCKING CHOICE. Because I was being subjected to every sub-moronic syllable of her conversation. Which isn’t just a regret, it’s a REAL pet peeve for me.
I regret/hate whenever peoples’ conversations out there in the world are within earshot of me.
Look, I don’t wanna hear about your bullshit fucking life. Seriously. Maybe you’re trying to prove to the world that you’re popular or important. But I honestly don’t care.
And this woman seemed to be one of those people, yakking like she actually WANTED everybody around her to hear what she was talking about.
I don’t think I’m alone in this. But who knows? Maybe I am.
The ironic thing is that the timbre of her voice kind of provided an ambient counterpoint to the sludge they usually play over the speakers.
And if I’m being honest, when she was gone,
I sorta missed her somehow.
Still. I hate that shit. Get out & stay out.
Then all I got was THIS turd:
Jesus. Careful what you wish for.
* Probably the best rock writing I’ve read in a while. From the same dude who helped Motley Crue write one of the coolest, tell-all rock autobios in history.
** One of these is completely made-up. See if you can tell which one. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
(rubs chin as if it’s a long, wizard-like beard)
You know, I found myself scrounging for a regret today. And yet, a couple just dropped right into my lap.
Call it divine intervention, call it what you will. They both appeared to me. And when they appear, I have to do their bidding.
"Yes, my Master."
For starters, I have a rhetorical question to pose: how much time have we as a society had to adjust to the concept of drive-thrus?
I mean, I’m no Merriam-Webster, but…
I’m pretty sure it’s been awhile now.
Like, the 1950’s, I’d say. And it’s not like this was a fad. This shit’s been going strong for quite some time now.
That being said, I think it’s safe to say that most of us have gotten the hang of it over the years. So you’d think.
And I’m not saying it’s easy making choices in this go-go, hurry-up-and-wait, hyperactive world we live in.
Our hentai alone is scrambling brains left & right.
But driving up to a fast food joint, ordering & getting the hell out in record time isn’t exactly a foreign concept. Which is why I regret being the sadsack getting stuck behind every dunce cap in drive-thrus lately.
Also, these chubs weren’t just sitting there, listening to the speaker bark their orders back at them.
They both sat there lackadaisically glancing at the menu like dullards.
And this was going on for - I’m not kidding you - a five, full minutes.
Admittedly, I could’ve gone for the following options instead:
• Park your car & run inside to order, dummy
• Maybe not eat at McDonald’s, fatty
Well, you’re right on both points. But then I wouldn’t have a regret for today, now would I?
And THAT, my friends, is my main takeaway from “Mean Girls.”
Okay, moving on.
So, I accepted a friend request on FB lately.
Somebody who had a number of mutual friends, so I friended him. But I regret seeing the holy shitstorm of friend suggestions that’ve flooded my feed lately.
Nothing against ANY of these gals, ‘natch. I just tend to be friends with people who didn’t get their names out of a Monty Python sketch.
And as a general rule, my friends on FB avoid taking booty selfies with their kids in the room.
If I’m being honest, I have a shit-ton of FB friends I’ve never met before. Which means I should probably go all Greg Ginn sometime soon.
Overall, I regret that I’ll probably never do it. Although it might be easier if I went ahead & friended some of these gals, just so I could unfriend them as sort of a warm up round.
But here’s what it comes down to. Sorry, girls. My dance card’s filled.
Lemme guess. She lives in Florida.
I’ve always been fascinated by the English language. My reference section at home is fairly massive. And sadly, I’m always buying more reference books whenever I find something interesting.
For example, here’s a tiny cross section of what I keep at work:
Sure, the Bookmarks Bar on my computer is jammed with reference sites. But there’s still a tangible, satisfying quality about looking it up in an actual book.
I mean, I’m no paronomasiac.
But if I want to call somebody a slug & make them think it’s a compliment,
this kind of shit comes in handy.
Anyhoo, I pass by this loading dock every day after lunch.
Just your average loading dock, really. But I find myself eyeing a certain word every damn time I walk by.
Something about that word. I really dig it. And I regret that it only really has one definition/use.
Okay, you’ve got always for “chock-full.”
(And no, I do NOT want to “like” this.)
But that’s sort of an extension of “chock” anyway. And I’m not taking the random Urban Dictionary definition into account:
Can we pass some kind of Internet law so that douche-asses are executed for unnecessarily cramming two words together like some half-assed Kevin Smith?*
Anyway, I’m not counting the UD definition. It’s like a snowball of grammatical shit.
Hold on. How can that mean BOTH of those things?
Never mind. I just said I was discounting any Urban Dictionary entries & I stand by that.
It’s got such a massive feel to it. Like a heaviness.
And I guess I regret that such an awesomely meaty word can’t be the answer to any & every question, depending on how you say it.
"You’re Goddamn chock!"
"Because he’s straight-up chock."
"Chock. I’m not even gonna answer that."
Okay, so I haven’t actually nailed down the exact definition, really. Like I said, it’s all how you say it. I’m seeing it as more of a positive response, if that helps.
* I fully realize I just did the exact same thing I’m complaining about with “douche-ass,” BTW. Which basically makes ME a half-assed Kevin Smith, I suppose. *sigh* I’ve been called worse, I guess.**
** Wait a minute. No, I haven’t!
I’ve taken a lot of shit for knocking things I haven’t seen yet. Here’s a good example:
Here’s another one:
Jesus. Did they hire the same designer for these things? Change up the font, at least. Damn.
Anyhoo, this isn’t exactly new for me. I went on a rant not that long ago about “Star Wars Rebels.” It was DAY 1137, if I’m not mistaken.
Yep. It was DAY 1137 alright.
It started off nice enough. Then my haven’t-seen-it-but-dumping-on-it-anyway instinct kicked in. It mainly dealt with the fact that I didn’t want any more prequel garbage stinking up the canon.
For my money, I thought the most obvious concept would be something that fell during either of the following timelines:
Seems like plenty of time to tell a shitload of stories with characters we actually give a damn about. But, you know, animated.*
I didn’t think that was too much to ask. But the heart wants what it wants. And I guess my heart’s pretty narrow.
Well, guess what. I happened to catch the first episode of “Star Wars Rebels” today.
And I hate to say it, but I regret giving it so much shit before watching it.
Yeah, I guess that IS worth a double spit take. I’m not one to admit when I’m wrong, but that first episode really pulled me in.
Maybe it was the ragtag group they had in this thing.
Maybe it was the fact that it takes place closer to the original trilogy.
Maybe it was the early McQuarrie Chewbacca they worked into it.
Maybe it was the two, strong female characters that drew me in.
Maybe it was all the interesting parallels to Luke Skywalker’s story.
And maybe it was a combination of all these things. Regardless, I regret prejudging this series. Maybe I’ll stick it out.
Could this be a normal thing? You know, a trend where I’m not being a killjoy about things before I watch them first?
You just shook a mouthful, fuzzball.
* This student-made film is fucking tigertits, BTW. I guess you could technically call it a prequel to “A New Hope,” but it’s brilliantly executed.
Ugh. How many times do I have to go over this?
Well, four times apparently. Because I discovered something the other day, while killing time in Target.
Okay, technically it WASN’T this, so let’s just consider this an aperitif regret before the main one.
I regret that Marvel - with all the cache & clout they have - would put out something so goofy.
Yeah, I know it’s for kids. And ultimately, what the fuck do kids know/care?
They’re getting Doc Oc with a Hulk foot. Or Hulk with whatever the fuck Hulk is wearing. The appeal lies in the fact that they can create their own Marvel character.
It might even be something I would’ve gotten as a birthday present from an aunt who didn’t know how rooted I was in comics.
In other words, I get it.
Even poverty-stricken waifs in Third World countries, who’ve never read a Thor comic in their lives could get behind “Super Hero Mashers” on Christmas morning.*
My point is, Marvel could’ve easily tossed a Super Skrull into the massively gaping marketplace & achieved the same results.
Maybe even pull a “Secret Invasion" to get away from the whole Fantastic Four angle.
Personally, I don’t think kids would’ve known the difference.
I don’t know. Just a thought.
Let’s pull this universe together, Marvel. Dig deep. You have NOTHING to lose. And let’s start with cleaning up the action figure market.
Alright, alright. That wasn’t the point of this regret initially. My original thought was about something I saw in the same Target though.
And this one’s aimed directly at DC.
First off, I’ve always been a sucker for Lex Luthor’s green & purple outfit. Couldn’t tell you why. And here’s a mechanical suit that’s the same colors, right there in the toy department.
And okay, it’s the Imaginext series.
The Fisher-Price-ification of pop culture. Which I’m actually fine with.
Hell, whenever we’d have “Star Wars battles” at my best friend’s house, I’d toss all my Fisher-Price Adventure People into a bag with my Hoth playset.
Back then, I didn’t care. Some of the Fisher-Price Adventure vehicles were just as cool as X-Wings & TIE Fighters in my mind.
I clearly knew the difference back then. I just didn’t care that much.
Well, here’s what we’ve got these days.
And I still find it nothing short of badass.
Wait. What’s going on in here?
Okay, so I guess Clayface can ingest people, which makes sense.
Okay, okay. Let me clarify.
Beyond the fact that all the heroes are smiling (which is about a country mile of fucked-up), I find myself drawn to these figures. Part of it’s a loyalty to DC, of which I have strong ties to. I even came close to picking that Clayface up.
But then I remembered what my Doom Patrol figures are doing right now.
They’re basically paperweights at work. Sure, sometimes I pose them.
But were they worth owning? I don’t know.
And when it comes to these Imaginext figures, I’d probably regret owning them even more for one reason & one reason only.
Jeez. Way to kick all the enthusiasm out of my sack.
* Or whatever gift-giving celebration happens in Third World countries.
Let’s travel back to those go-go 90’s, shall we?
Such a heady time. Especially for music.
And although my bestie J’Mel & I were possibly too old for such things at the time, we each had our own favorite Spice Girl.
He fancied Sporty.
Me? I was a stone-cold Baby guy myself.
And like most stuff we disagreed on, we never let our conflicting tastes mess with our friendship.
To our credit though, we were both pretty faithful to our choices. Neither one of us really “cheated” on our chosen Spice Girl with any other Spice Girls. We’d made our choices & we were eternally faithful.
Well, I found this gif recently. I’ve been staring at it for about 30 minutes now.
For obvious reasons.
And yeah, I’d seen this video about a billion times back in the day, but somehow I’d forgotten about this move.
Now I regret that my 20-year allegiance to Baby Spice may be slipping.
As a kid, I had a number of friends who REALLY got off on model kits.
It was just never my scene. Although I could see the attraction when certain movie franchises or TV shows got in on the action.
But it was never enough to pull me in. The construction of it, the attention to detail, the inevitable result never looking like you imagined.
"Yeah. That’s, uhhh… great. Can’t wait to put that on my shelf."
Truth is, I don’t have a high tolerance for building stuff. I’m just not that guy. Same reason I never took to video games like The Sims
or Roller Coaster Tycoon
or fucking Minecraft.
I don’t have the patience to build shit. Let’s get to shooting guys or collecting coins. Like the man said,
"I like simple pleasures like butter in my ass, lollipops in my mouth. That’s just me. That’s just something that I enjoy."
All that being said, I always appreciated people who could build models well. And that’s where today’s post leads us.
That’s all I have to say.
See that pile of trash in that seemingly scummy neighborhood?
That’s not what it is at all.
Satoshi FUCKING Araki.
This dude’s a mad genius.
All the subtle, meticulous nuances.
All culminating into something that’s 1/35 of real life.
While looking through his portfolio, I kept getting blindsided by the level of detail.
That’s right. He also does tiny reproductions of this stuff, too. Just incredible.
I’m seriously at a loss here.
So what this basically boils down to is, I regret that I’ll never be able to pull off something this extraordinarily detailed & polished.
Or unpolished, depending on how you look at it.
It’s just such a crazy accomplishment. And something I’d probably tear my hair out over if I ever attempted it.
He does other stuff, too. Miniatures that are equally impressive.
But his diorama work is simply sick.
I found most of this on his Twitter feed. And I think I found my new band name in one of the tweets that Google translated from Japanese.
My one hope is that somebody has noticed what he’s been up to & are paying him to do all this. Because if not, that spirals into my next regret.
I was in Target today & saw this:
If you’ve never seen “Escape From Tomorrow,” save your money. It’s fucking horrible.
Judging by its trailer, it looked hella promising. (Go ahead. Watch the trailer if you haven’t already.)
But then I saw it at a local theater.
Seriously, I could flood the rest of this post with cute, pouty Asian girls giving it the thumbs down & it couldn’t possibly communicate how incredibly shitty, assy & tainty this pile of cinema was.
I know, I know. That’s not exactly helping.
The whole shot-covertly-at-Disneyland gimmick only goes so far. You realize early on that that’s all it has going for it.
The acting? Horrible.
The green screen pickup shots? Laughable.
The storyline? Completely ludicrous.
And the ending?
You know what? I’m gonna spoil it for you just so you WON’T see this piece of garbage. It basically ends like THIS.
It’s like sitting through a first-year film student’s final exam. And yet, somehow critics were jizzing their own balls over this shit.
Jordan/Drew, I’ll need to see your credentials. And your bank account, just so I can see how much they paid you to write this.
I know we’re hitting the bottom of the film critics’ barrel here, but if there are any hackers out there, please consider torpedoing these assholes.
Todd, I don’t think you even know what that means.
Anyhoo, let’s get back on track. This whole rant stemmed from seeing this in Target, right?
And I regret seeing that this fuckus is getting distribution, while artists like Satoshi Araki are doing work like THIS.
Possibly languishing in obscurity.
Damn, I want this dude’s life.*