Thursday, August 26, 2010

A&M's Mid-Year Movie Awards



This is going to be a bit all over the place. I haven’t seen enough movies to do a complete summer recap, but I’ve been to the local multiplex a few times and have been pounding through my Netflix queue like Precious and a box of double stuffs. Let’s talk box office, let’s talk trailers, let’s talk DVDs, let’s talk Russell Brand, Russell Crowe, but most importantly let’s talk about Takers, which might be the most important movie to come out in 50 years. In fact let’s go right there:


The Movie That Will Change Everything: Takers
The ceiling for bad acting has officially been raised. Please watch this trailer. Walker. Christiansen. Tip “TI” Harris. Chris Brown. Jay Hernandez. The immortal Matt Dillon. If they can somehow squeeze in a cameo from Ryan Philippe then Hollywood might have to just pack it up and head home. I want to see this movie so bad I’m literally shaking in my seat.

(Quick tangent: I think it's important to understand the distinction between "enjoyably bad" and "anal rape bad." For example, any movie with Keanu (Point Break, The Devil's Advocate) is enjoyably bad. Any movie with Phillippe (Breach, Stop-Loss) is "anal rape bad." We all clear there? Takers has enjoyably bad written all over it - of course that is completely dependent on how large Dillon's role is - no one pushes more movies towards anal rape than Matt Stinkhole Dillon).


The movie that had kid-friendly anal sex with the box office: Toy Story 3
We knew it’d be a hit, we knew it’d be great, we knew it would open strong and have legs, but look at these numbers:

Opening weekend: $110m (#10 all time)
Total domestic gross: $404m (#9 all time)
Total international gross: $985m (#7 all time)

Not only is Toy Story 3 the biggest film ever for both Pixar and Disney, but it also became the 11th movie to cross the $400m mark domestically and is on the verge of being the 7th movie to cross the $1 billion mark worldwide. Holy Santa Claus shit.


The movie that just won’t go the fuck away: Avatar
“Avatar: Special Edition” is opening this Friday at 700 theaters across the country. The “Special Edition” moniker is much more catching than James Cameron’s first suggestion, “Avatar: I’m trying to buy Greenland.”


The Movie That Made Me Look Around to Make Sure I Wasn’t Getting Punk’d: The Switch
Here’s the plot in a nutshell. Aniston wants to have a baby but secretly no one likes her because she’s annoying and terrible in bed. Whoops that’s real life; let me start over. Aniston plays a successful career woman who’s too busy to think about starting a family, but her uterus is banging on the walls like an old woman trapped in an elevator and she decides to have a baby on her own via a turkey baster and a sperm bank. Her best friend, Jason Bateman, has been in love with her forever and is jealous that she’s having a baby on her own and didn’t ask him to fill the turkey baster or, at the very least, squeeze it. So one night, at her “I’m about to use the Turkey Baster” party, Bateman drunkenly wanders into her bathroom, sees the tub of sperm, which, yes, is just sitting in her bathroom. I mean, fuck. There are sluts, there are mega sluts, there are LiLos, then there are the bitches who have random tubs of sperm in their medicine cabinets. So anyway, Bateman takes the top off the tub, smells it, tastes it, sings to it a little (at least I think so, not exactly sure what is happening at the :47 mark here), but then, in his drunken stupor, spills the spunk into the toilet. What’s a guy to do? Well, he yanks his junk and then fills the tub back up with his own man chowder. Cut to five years later, Aniston is a mom, Bateman still loves her and can’t bring himself to tell her that his spooge was in the Baster, and hilarity ensues.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?


The Best Comedy at the mid-way point: Get Him To The Greek

The Best Drama at the mid-way point: Inception

The September movie I’m most excited about: The Town

The October movie I’m most excited about: Stone

The November movie I’m most excited about: Due Date

The December movie I’m most excited about: True Grit
No trailer yet but it’s a new Western by the Coen Brothers starting Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon and Josh Brolin. While we wait for the trailer to appear, here’s the trailer for Black Swan


Best movies I’ve seen on Netflix: I loved Crazy Heart, Alice in Wonderland, Shutter Island, was shocked by how good the Green Zone was and loved and was terrified by Chloe. Recommend all five.


The terrible idea that turned into a terrible movie that was terrible at the box office: Jonah Hex.
It if looks like a turd, smells like a turd and walks like a turd, it’s probably Jonah Hex. This movie, which reportedly cost $50m to make, opened with a paltry $5 and finished with a turd-errific $10.2. Lots of movies bomb, but this one holds a special distinction, after the results of the first weekend came in, Warner Bros reacted quickly, pulling the movie from 2,475 theaters – 87% of the total. On June 18, when it opened, the movie was in 2,825 theaters. By the next weekend, it was in 350. That, my friends, is a new record in shittiness.



JR

Friday, August 20, 2010

DOs and DON'Ts of a Fantasy Draft



By Magglio and Jericho

Your office manager just asked you if Tom Brady should be her first round pick. A guy on the bus talks loudly about how Desean Jackson screwed him last season. You start to twitch thinking about how much Chris Berman you’ll be force fed over the next 6 months. It can mean only one thing. Fantasy Football is back.

If you’re awesome, then you’re meeting up with the other people in your league and making a day out of your draft. In preparation for your upcoming draft, here is Apple and Moustaches DO’s and DON'Ts for a successful draft.


DON’T…ever draft anyone from your favorite team. I made this mistake last year by taking both Hasselbeck (barf) and Housh (barf and then have that barf shoved up your butt) and that made last year twice as bad. I think the key to playing fantasy and still enjoying football is to try and separate them, not entirely possible, but the bigger the divide the better. Don’t shit where you eat, or to put this in Seahawk-fan terms, when you find your wife in bed with another guy don’t start blowing him.


DO…overspend on a good bottle of booze. There’s a good chance there will be shitty beer at your draft. We all know that. But what’s important is that you bring a quality bottle of booze to the party. Bring something a tiny bit above what everyone is expecting. It will let people know you mean business. Then proceed to pass the bottle around and encourage drinking in the spirit of ‘guy time’ and ‘ridiculousness.’ You can also use the bottle to shove up anyone’s ass who is dumb enough to pick a Seahawk. FYI.


DON’T….play in a league with girls. Fantasy Football is not for girls. This is a game for dudes. If girls want to make an appearance at your draft they have 2 options 1) make and serve drinks. 2) show their tits and then make and serve drinks. Everyone knows this rule.


DO…celebrate a meaningless pick like you just won the lottery. It has to be well timed and it should hit somewhere around the mid-rounds. And as soon as the guy before you picks start cheering like you just got the pass from your wife to motorboat J-WOWW. Confidently announce your pick, close whatever materials you have in front of you loudly, toss a chair over, ruffle the hair of whomever is sitting next to you, do the Ric Flair yell and loudly announce “I can’t believe (insert name) fell to me. I’m absolutely fucking this draft in the ass!”


DO…pick one random guy in your draft and take an absolute shit on every one of his picks and encourage the rest of the dudes to do the same. Even if it’s a good pick, fuck him. Every league has that one guy that no one really likes but is somehow, inexplicably, still in the league. If you’re sitting there thinking, “my league doesn’t have one,” then it’s you, fuck ball.


DON’T…be the first one to take a kicker. In fact, don’t even take a kicker. Pick an extra WR, think about it for a week then pick up a kicker right before game time. Being the first guy to take a kicker is like being the first one to get a lap dance at a strip club, it just has a weird stigma to it. Like standing up and announcing “I’m a tremendous pussy” (kicker) or “I jerk off at work!” (stripper).


DO...target as many Jags, Chiefs, Dolphins and Pats as possible. Then go home and suck an enormous dick, pussy.


DON’T...read a word that Matthew Berry writes because if he recommends something, and you do it, and it works, then you’ll be secretly indebted to him, and he’ll know, I don’t know how he’ll know, but that creepy fuck will know, which will lead to some combination of a dick and a mouth, who’s and where, not sure, but don’t do it, just don’t do it.


DO…follow us on Twitter…..@rickreilyisgay



III

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Apples and Moustaches...just cause



by Magglio and Jericho



Apple
I always knew Eli Manning had periods, I just didn't know he got them on his forehead.


Moustache
Brett Favre is returning to football. This story is the equivalent of my obsession with Mad Dog 20/20 in college. Every Thursday night I’d attempt to put down 2 bottles of MD 20/20. Inevitably I couldn’t finish the 2nd bottle. We’d then go out to a bar and within an hour or so I’d be headed home to spend the rest of the night puking and making out with a fat chick. Brett Favre is the drink, the puke and that fat chick I used to take home all wrapped into one. I want nothing to do with Brett Favre ever again.


Apple
Twitter update! The funniest twats I’ve read come from Sarah Silverman. That is one funny dude. What? That’s a chick. Why does she have a moustache then? Oh and by the way, we’re on Twitter now. Find us @rickreilyisgay “ We have exactly 0 followers. Follow us. Or don't. But either way, fuck Twitter.


Moustache
A few years ago, Magglio and I decided that every time Matt Millen appears on TV, a little box should appear that says “Was GM of first team in history to go 0-16” for the entire time he’s speaking. Here’s another one I’d like to add. Every time Katy Perry is shaking her admittedly gorgeous tits around, the box should say “has most definitely had Russell Brand’s poop in her mouth.” I like Russell Brand and I like Katy Perry’s melons, which are admittedly gorgeous, but those tits have been on a wild ride and that should be noted.


Apple
I'm approaching my fantasy draft the same way I approached being with a naked girl for the first time: if something looks good I'm grabbing it.


Moustache
Remember the “help me, help you” scene in Jerry Maguire? Anyone who has ever worked at an agency (PR, ads, escorts, whatever) can attest to how accurately that scene captures the frustration that comes with trying to talk a dumb person out of doing something dumb, full while knowing they’re going to do it anyway because, after all, they’re dumb. Having clients who won’t listen is analogous to watching your dog eat a pile of shit. The worst part isn’t the shit itself; it’s the weird look the dog gives you that says “man, you’re crazy, this shit is delicious” as you’re imploring him/her to stop. That look is 50 times worse than the act itself. Replace the dog with a client, the shit with an idea they just took a dump on and the “delicious!” look with a “I’ve got it!” email and you’ve got agency life.




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Friday, August 13, 2010

A few A&Ms



Apple
I’m not a girl. I don’t have girl parts. But I do know that any time a commercial starts with ‘my doctor told me there’s no need to have my period once a month’ and ends with warnings of possible inflammation of the uterus and vaginal lacerations, then something is out of whack. I’ll take my birth control the old fashion "pull-out and aim" way thank you very much.


Moustache
Who do you take with the 7th pick in your fantasy draft? Let’s say it goes CJ, AP, Rice, MJD, Turner, and Andre Johnson…who do you take then? As much as I love the Niners I don’t want Gore. No thank you on Steven Jackson. A quarterback? Maybe. The other option is you nut up and grab one of the big name WRs not named Moss. Like Roddy White or DeSean Jackson or Miles Austin. My strategy this year is to not worry about where I’m picking but worry about just taking who I want.


Apple
Can someone please explain to me once and for all what the fuck Twitter is all about? I don’t get it. I really don’t. I have a Twitter account and yes it’s great to stay up on sports news as well as what J-WOWW’s mighty cannons are up to. But that’s about it. I’ve had precisely 9 tweets. All of them go out into the great unknown world of the interwebnet and then what? I don’t get any feedback. No former classmate who used to give handys to the entire basketball team gives it the thumbs up. So what then? Someone please explain. Preferably someone named MarinGuy.


Moustache
I’m trying to hook two people up that I know. The dude is one of my best friends on the planet who I’ve known since we were 5. The other is a chick I work with. Here’s the funny thing about hooking two people up. At first, you know everything about how things are going. You know who texted who. You know what they talked about on their dates. You know if he went under the shirt over the bra or if he went straight for the slap and a tickle. And then….BOOM. Just like that you know nothing. They all of a sudden have their own wave length, their own moments and their own inside jokes. This must be what a momma bear feels like when she lets her cub go into the wild. Fuck that was gay. Forget that last part please.


Apple
Here’s a trend I’m tired of; articles about sandwiches. Where to get the best sandwich. How to build the perfect sandwich. What your sandwich says about you. Is this really what this world has come to? We have nothing better to talk about then which mayo aioli to pair with ham and provolone? Go fuck yourself articles about sandwiches.


That is all.

Go Giants.




III

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Que Bueno!




I’m excited about a few things. So naturally I wanted to document my feelings. Like a tender 10-year old penning her daily crushes into a notepad and stashing it under her mattress for nobody to find. Under this scenario I would be the chick, my blog is my notebook, you are the mattress and my crushes are the following:

  • I’m excited about...the start of another season of Hard Knocks. Let me put it like this. If you have HBO, then I know exactly what you should be doing tonight. If you don’t have HBO, then I know the call you should be making to your local cable company tonight. This is a must. At one point we even threatened you, the reader, if you weren’t watching. We said, and I quote, “If you’re not watching Hard Knocks this season you are officially uninvited from reading this blog.” This still stands. So make it happen.

  • I’m excited about... the offer I just received from the SF Chronicle which will ultimately put the Sporting Green back into my hands. You see, there was a solid string of 18 years or so when I read the sports page daily. It became so much of a routine that when I got to college I would deliberately set my alarm early, waddle my hung over ass downstairs to the fraternity kitchen, confiscate the sports page, then bring it back to bed with me to ensure I could read it when I woke up. After college I did everything in my power to afford a paper subscription. But that shit is EXPENSIVE. Eventually it went away. And my life was crushed. Nothing can take the place of the sports page. Not espn.com, not sfgate.com, not the free paper they hand out on Market St. Nothing. I’ll spare you the details, but as of next week, I’m back baby. I’m back.

  • I’m excited about... the upcoming fantasy draft with my high school friends. 17 years and running. Un-fucking-real. Maybe this year I’ll actually win.

  • I’m excited about... the rainbow belt I bought. It’s like this, this shit is legit. It’s Paul Smith. And when you look at it you either get ‘dude, is that Paul Smith? Nice belt.’ Or you get ‘dude, that’s a rainbow belt, you’re fucking gay.’ It immediately tells me where somebody stands in life. And you know what? I like it like that.

  • I’m excited about... Buster Posey, the chick in the pic above, the half-marathon in November, peanut butter, hating LeBron, Bubba, and the fact that there will be a football game every single Sunday from now until February.


Tits dude, totally tits.







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