Maynard James Keenan: Rochambeau Myself
I love a good comedy. Browsing through mental notes of quotable material, apropos for tedious moments brought on by the petty, the narrow minded, and the desperate, keeps me questionably sane.
See also: Maynard James Keenan: These Are The "End of Days"
See also: Maynard James Keenan: Up on the Sun's New Columnist
See also: Maynard James Keenan (Puscifer, Tool, A Perfect Circle) on The Importance of Keeping It Local
Snippets from films like Talladega Nights, Super Troopers, and The Jerk can have an almost Fountain Of Youth effect on me when applied to said moments. Other films supply the occasionally necessary yet unintentional gut laugh, such as Battlefield Earth, Godfather III, and the entire Twilight series. (Side Note and Fun Fact on the Twilight Series: The scripts WERE NOT randomly generated by an iPhone app or by a team of Emo Eunuchs on LSD. They were, in fact, intentionally written that way. This was not an experiment as I had originally assumed upon viewing.)
The reason I bring all this up is that I've been buried under grapes for seven solid weeks now. It's been a month and a hefty half of fantastically productive 14-hour days with some very promising juice for the 2012.
Twilight: Not, in fact, "randomly generated by an iPhone app or by a team of Emo Eunuchs on LSD."
I miss my trips down to the 602 to dine and complain poetically with Mr. Wexler at NoCa or to dine and plot some twisted yet simple dinners with Mark Tarbell. I needed a break and I needed to get out of the house/bunker, but there's no way I can be two hours away from the winery this time of the year.
So I checked in with my local theaters to see if there were any just-above-marginal films to which I could set my brain on cruise control. Doesn't have to be a zinger. Just has to have fresh-popped corn and sugar stuff. I am fully capable of manufacturing and rationalizing any excuse to watch a crap film as long as I can go face-deep in a popcorn container large enough to require a child safety warning. Double-fisted side of red licorice, please. (Children, be warned. If you kick my chair, interrupt my two-hour vacation, or attempt to stick your grubby booger paws anywhere near my popcorn or licorice, you will become the poster child for that bucket's safety warning. Please refer to the Robert Downey Jr./Juliette Lewis scene in Due Date. Copy?)