BRAINS
Originally uploaded by Mellzah
I’m too sexy for my skin, too sexy for my skin, so sexy it’s a sin!
BRAINS
Category Reviews
MEGA SHARK vs GIANT OCTOPUS
Every week, Amy peruses the list of new DVD releases for things to add to her Netflix list. Last week, she called out to me as I was getting ready for work. “Melissa? I think I found a movie for you–Mega Shark Vs Giant Octopus.”
My response? “HOLY SHIT WRITE THAT DOWN I WILL BE THERE IN A SECOND”
This is the sort of movie that I tend to have high expectations for and ultimately walk away disappointed. It didn’t help that it starred both Debbie Gibson and Lorenzo Lamas, which assisted in cementing my ‘this will be a glorious trainwreck’ mindset.
Now, I have to admit that actually WATCHING the movie, a lot of the time I was bored. In these sorts of creature features, there is never enough creature, and alltogether too much time is devoted to watching characters you don’t give a flip about overact as if their very lives depended on it. It was mildly amusing to watch them do SCIENCE! by pouring colored water into various test tubes and beakers and make either happy faces or overly sad “I am the worst scientist who has ever done science” faces. Did you know that pheremones glow bright green? That’s how Super Scientist Debbie Gibson knew she had done her job properly, and everyone gave her smooches on the cheek to let her know what a good scientist she was.
At one point, they cut away to a scene of a plane struggling in a storm. I rolled my eyes and thought how special it was that they were including plane footage in a movie where the antagonists are all in the motherfucking ocean. Then this, the most amazing scene in the history of cinema, happened.
This is better than when the shark rears up and bites the Golden Gate Bridge in half. This is better than the octopus smacking a low-flying fighter jet out of the sky with one tentacled blow. This is better than Lorenzo Lamas pretending he’s a good actor. THIS IS A MOTHERFUCKING SHARK EATING A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE AT 30,000 FEET.
I laughed so hard, I fell off of my chair. I laughed so hard, Napoleon had a fit. I laughed so hard, Amy came to investigate. I sent gleeful text messages about the quality of the film. I took a shaky cell-phone video of the scene in case it wasn’t already on youtube. I watched it about SIX MORE TIMES.
You’ve already seen the best part of the movie, so I can’t in good conscience recommend it. Scenes where we should have seen the Japanese battling the octopus were cut and substituted with one Japanese dude on a video screen saying “I hope you fared better with the shark than we did with the octopus. It was horrible. Horrible.” What could have been awesome destruction/fight footage was always cut with “We don’t need to see the end of this. Let’s get out of here.” The end battle is lackluster as hell–you could probably imagine a battle between a shark and an octopus that’s more entertaining. Perhaps between rubber bathtub toys, because that’s what these looked like. Scale goes wonky–at one point, the shark is large enough to bite the golden gate bridge in half, but can’t seem to manage to chew through a submarine. These are HUGE animals when they’re crunching through other things, but when they’re together, there’s never anything in the scene for size reference, so they look like 3d stock footage. It’s pretty clear that the directors didn’t know how to handle size, so they changed things as it suited their purpose.
Oh yeah: Also, this is a movie with a message. Global warming releases giant sea monsters as comeuppance for our environmental irresponsibility. You’d bettah believe it!
Getting to First Base With Some Papyrus
In February, I attended a Microsoft Party with Jez. Well, well, well, I am finally getting around to post about it. Here at Mellzah Entertainments, Inc, we are committed to lightning-fast reporting about moments of interest by which I mean lightning-fast when I discover the paper that I wanted to scan that had been hiding under a stack of unread Servo magazines.
Soooo for this fancy schmancy party, they rented out Quest Field. On the field itself, they had a soccer game, a few football-styled bounce house athletic events, and a bit where you could attempt to kick a field goal. I was wearing inappropriate shoes, so I was saved from that humiliation. However, I got to hold the ball for Jez, who continues to blame me for his slipshod performance and lack of an “I’m A Sports Superstar” medal to take home and show off to his supercrush.
Inside, they had bands performing, a karaoke area, a 360 game room that was totally dominated by dudes, and temporary tattoos. I almost, almost convinced a man from Germany to get a temporary tattoo tramp stamp but he bailed at the last second. Jez got a fish, and as per my white trash leanings, I got some bitchin’ snakes on my forearm. We then went and got photos taken that got posted to the MS internal network and thusly I have never seen them–Jez posed with the cheerleader pom poms and made a fetching kick, and I did the Heisman pose with a football. JEZ, I WANT THOSE PICTURES.
We wandered around a bit and happened upon a ‘Lipsologist’ station–now, I’m not a believer in much, but I AM a believer in getting people to do things that they find embarrassing and stupid, so I roped Jez into doing this with me.
This Lips Scientist had a bunch of white cards and lipsticks laid out on a table with the instructions that you are to apply lipstick and kiss the card at least twice. So far, so good. Except I didn’t have any lipstick on me as I wasn’t carrying a purse and I’ve already learned my lesson about keeping them in a pocket, and there’s no way in bleeding hell I’m putting used lipstick on my face. I might as well jam my tongue down the throat of everyone there and play Herpes Roulette. I found Jez one that looked brand new and still wiped off the top layer to safeguard him from strangers, and I kissed my card with the remnants of whatever I’d put on before I left the house.
Jez went first, and she told him a bunch of stuff about him that he didn’t agree with, like that his relatively large lips mean he lives life big and bold, that he’d be a great public speaker/entertainer, so on and so forth. (P.S. She wrote my name, not me. I know how to spell my own name, thank you very much.)
When I handed her my card, she gasped and grabbed me a chair. “You have ghost lips“. But what does that mean?
Sooooo ‘ghost lips’ mean I’m exhausted. Overworked, frenzied, etc etc etc and not that I didn’t have any fresh lipstick to wear, amirite? The Lips Scientist must have assumed, by virtue of my attendance, that I am a Microsoft employee (HA!) and thusly that I put in 80+ hour weeks; she told me that I am to take a vacation by myself ASAP and do NOTHING. Which, frankly, sounds like one of the deeper pits of hell to me. By myself? No way to communicate with anyone else? Doing nothing? Hi, I will go stir crazy and murder someone by the second day. No, madam, I need to get laid. That is what I need.
I honestly don’t remember what the last two bits on the card were in reference to, but it’s exceedingly kind of her to note any stretch marks that I may or may not have, and their normalcy.
She then told me that had my prints not been so light, she would have gone further in depth about how I am obviously a gifted storyteller, with a demanding and exacting personality, and not even slightly a cheap date. This stuff? Sure, I’ll buy it. The ghost stuff, not so much.
She then handed me her business card and told me that whenever my boss lays something on me that’s too much, I should feel free to tell him no, because my Lip ScientistDoctor told him I’m supposed to be living stress-free, and he can call her to verify. I have not done this thing as I’m not overwhelmed by the urge to have all of my coworkers view me as a dingleberry.
The important lesson here is that I can be mistaken for someone who works at Microsoft.