This week, I’m pulling back the horses. Not stressed, not freaked out, overly challenged maxed or without fuel, but I’m aware of the fact that I’ve been going hard core for the past few weeks (months) and just want to relax a little this week. So, I’m really not going to speak too much about music this week, because I want to clear the cob webs. I pushed this tuesday’s release off for next tuesday, and may push it off one more week. Love the fluidity of my scheduling huh. Seriously, I just want the mix to be right, so we’ll see.
Monday night, I read. No television was on any where in the house, and haven’t done that in a while. Al Franken is one funny dude.
Tuesday night took one for the team and watched a chick flick with g-friend.
Ok, um, there are some chick flicks I love. Chick flicks can be wonderful films, full of insight to the human soul, beautiful cinematography and more. Amelie, Il Postino, Sense and Sensibility, Elizabeth (Seriously, Elizabeth is a guy’s movie masquerading as a chick flick. Check out the Godfather style ending if you think I’m kidding) etc etc
And… some chick flicks can suck major balls. This movie was closer to sucking major balls than being wonderful, but in truth it wasn’t horrible. It was called “Love Actually” but I swear, every single time someone broached the subject of “love” a fucking clarinet player started playing the theme of the movie. This made me want to kill. I was hoping Predator would show up at the door step of Hugh Grant and chop him in half with alien wrist fired rays. But this was not to be.
So, word to you chick flick makers out there: either don’t be afraid to challenge us viewers by daring to work outside the prototypical formulaic scenarios that love movies provide or include at least ONE scene of Predator, because otherwise the label chick flick will remain a negative stereotype.
Just sayin…’
