Klaus Varley Explains Humor: Obama's Special Olympics Gaffe

President Barack Obama's recent misstep on Jay Leno has been reported so incorrectly by the media it warrants an entirely new series of posts: Klaus Varley Explains Humor

This isn't the first time we've had to explain humor. (Perhaps we'll go back and include the older posts in this series, but for now you'll have to be satisfied with this link to them.) And I'm guessing it won't be the last.

The press has reported that Obama compared his bowling score to those in the Special Olympics. This is incorrect. The actual joke is a bit more complicate

The Situation: Obama states he's improving in his bowling skills: he recently bowled a 129. Jay teases Obama because Obama thinks 129 is a respectable score, giving him false praise. The crowd laughs. Obama then comments on Jay's fake support, comparing JAY'S FAKE SUPPORT to people who cheer on the Special Olympics.



It's quick, and there is applause over it, but if you listen closely, you can hear Obama say while laughing, "All supportive, this is like Special Olympics or something."

Is that joke in poor taste? Probably. However, Obama is NOT poking fun of participants in the Special Olympics, he is joking about people who pretend to cheer on the participants. The difference is real. Whether it makes a difference to you, that is another question.

And thus, the humor has been explained.

-KV

Charles Bukowski Quotes on The Brothel

A lot of people land here on The Brothel looking for Charles Bukowski quotes. (Maybe this is you, maybe it isn't. Go with it.)

If this describes you, or you're just interested in seeing some Charles Bukowski quotes, check out THIS PAGE which has all the posts with the quotes.

Basically, it is a link to the tag "Charles Bukowski Quotes." Thus, as we continue posting more quotes, they will appear on that page.

So enjoy the quotes. The man has some interesting things to say.

Seriously.

-TLB

Man Dong vs. Naked Breasts (if this title doesn't get us more hits then I'm all out of ideas)

Man Dong vs. Naked Breasts
Langdon Auger

As a fan of the graphic novel I have to give the film adaptation of Watchmen a passing grade. It could have been better, and apparently if you haven’t read the graphic novel it doesn’t make much sense. But I can think of a worse way to spend three ass numbing hours in a movie theater (check out some of my previous posts, I won’t rehash it here).

The changes to the story were minimal and in a sense worked a little better. I have heard some criticism of the film for being racist and sexist, which I feebly defend by saying those elements were in the graphic novel and show how these “heroes” are merely advanced fascists. Overall I give the movie a B-minus, maybe a B if the Watchmen come to office hours and appeal the grade.

But now for the important question on everyone’s mind. Does the overlong and embarrassing sex scene make up for the multiple shots of glowing-blue man dong? Let’s begin by looking at the facts.

The sex scene offers a nice respite from the glowing-blue man dong after about an hour and a half of seeing it on screen. You have a naked lady and a small bit of man ass. But, rather than being a welcome respite, the sex scene gets dragged out to an uncomfortable level. So when you go see this movie with your childhood preacher or your 80 year old grandma, you might have some explaining to do.

On the other hand, the glowing-blue man dong is a glowing blue man dong. There is no getting around that simple fact. And as if that weren’t enough the character can duplicate himself, meaning more than one man dong on screen at a time. Also at play is the childhood preacher/80 year old grandma variable. But, might a graphic onscreen depiction of male genitalia counterbalance some of the claims to misogyny? Or should this even matter?

“To gaze at the glowing-blue man dong or not to gaze at the glowing blue man dong? That is the question.” Does it mean I am mature enough to enjoy an adult style of entertainment, or does it mean I am simply willing to put up with it in return for the naked lady? Perhaps the comments section will provide some relevant insight to this perplexing question.

-LA

1000 Pages a Day - 2

This is a follow-up to A Public Declaration: 1000 Pages a Day. That's what the "2" is all about. So please, no more questions about the 2. -KV

Chapter 2: Introduction (1)

First, the title. 1000 Pages a Day: the pace we were expected to read the first year of my Ph.D. program in American History.

Okay, 1000 pages is a slight exaggeration. Some days it would be 1000 pages, other days it would be less.

But some days, it would be more.

"How can one person read 1000 pages a day, let alone many days in a row?"

The answer of course, is you can't. This is not a how-to book.

If you thought it was a how-to book when you first picked it up, hold on a second. Yes, this is a how-to book. I promise. Still reading? Great. Go to the register, and buy this book and then I promise I'll tell you how to read 1000 pages a day.

I'm waiting.

Okay, it's yours? Great. Read on:

How to Read 1000 Pages a Day
A "How-to" Book by Klaus Varley

1. Get your supplies: coffee, stop watch, highlighter, pen, sticky tabs, and paper.
2. Get your book(s).
3. Divide the pages into blocks of 100.
4. Read 100 pages an hour.

So now you want to know how to read 100 pages an hour? That's not the name of the book, but I'll give it a shot.

How to Read 100 Pages an Hour
by Klaus Varley

1. Follow steps 1 and 2, above.
2. Set the stopwatch to 30 minutes.
3. Close your eyes.
4. Imagine a shadowy figure holding a gun to your head. The figure says, "You have 30 minutes to learn everything you can from these hundred pages or I blow your brains out. Go."
5. Say "Bang!"
6. Press "Start" on the stopwatch.
7. Crack open the book.
8. Read fast. The shadowy figure is watching.(2)

Hope that helps. All the "how-to" readers can put this back on the shelf.

Still here? Alright, so if this isn't a how-to book, what is it?

1000 Pages a Day is a dramatization of my first year of an intensive Ph.D. program in American History at a University that shall remain unnamed (at least until this goes into book form). If those of you out there think you may know which university I am referring to, think again. Still thinking of that same one? Damn. Well, I'll make you a deal - don't say anything about this for a couple years and I'll make you look good in the novel. Hell, maybe after I self publish it, I'll give it to you as a Christmas present, and pay for the shipping myself?(4)

So let's all keep our mouth shut about this, and let me air out some of the things that went down that fateful year when you said to yourself, "I haven't heard from Klaus in a while."

And with that...let's begin.

And by "begin" I mean "To be continued..."

-KV


---footnotes---

1. Though introductions are rarely labeled by chapter numbers, "Chapter 2" in this case actually means "Introduction." When we get to the real Chapter 2, that will be Chapter 2. I am aware this makes no sense.

2. How to read fast in case the shadowy figure is watching by Klaus Varley. First read the introduction and conclusion. The author's argument and structure of book will be in there - a.k.a. everything you need to speak intelligently about the book(3). Then flip through and browse the footnotes/end notes so you can name drop some of those authors. IF YOU HAVE TIME, read the first and last paragraphs of chapters, the first and last sentence of every paragraph, and if you're SUPER fast, read some of those words in the middle of the paragraphs that make up the bulk of the book.

3. Of course these instructions are for non-fiction, social science books...a.k.a. History books. Fiction is another story. Memoirs, also, cannot be read in this manner. Don't even think about trying it with this book. Seriously.

4. CA residents still have to pay tax. Sorry.

Obama Learns from MILK

On Wednesday, March 18th, Obama addressed a crowd in Orange County.

Obama: I know a lot of you are outraged about this (AIG Bonuses).
Crowd: Yeah!
Obama: I'm outraged too!

Sound familiar? That is as close a politician gets to quoting from a movie without crediting the film.

Here is the scene from MILK (2008) with Sean Penn as Harvey Milk:

Harvey Milk: I know you're angry!
Crowd: Yeah!!
Harvey Milk: I'm angry!



What does this mean? It means Obama has seen MILK. Or at least watched the preview.

Or maybe Obama just knows how to work a crowd - just like Harvey Milk used to do.

-TLB

Charles Bukowski Quote - Other Poets

"Yes, that letter was from one of those modern sicks - thinks it's clever to steal a $35 or $15 book from the library and then write to the author and brag about it. hell, the best thing about a library book is that more than one person gets to read them (it).

And I'm to come by and eat dinner with hikm? Such an immense stupidity. Ow, ow, ow - and we're both poets! He says."

-Charles Bukowski, 1974

A Conversation With My Girlfriend in the Morning

A Conversation With My Girlfriend in the Morning
Klaus Varley

Looking at my Threadless t-shirt, my girlfriend asked, "When are we going to be too old to wear designer tees?"

"I don't know," I said in confusion, "Never?"

"I think probably 35," she said with as much certainty that can accompany a sentence containing the word "probably."

I eliminated any doubt that the look on my face was indeed one of shock by saying, "Jesus, that's only a few years away."

But she knew how to alleviate the pain. "Then we can wear them again when we're old. Like hippies and tie-dye, you know?"

I quickly did math in my head. "So it's just a thirty year gap when we have to dress seriously?"

"Yeah," she said, getting into her car and kissing her T-shirt clad boyfriend goodbye.

I walked back up to our apartment, made some coffee, hung out with the cat, and blogged about the conversation, butchering the words but trying to catch the spirit. And wondering if she was right.

She was probably right.

But what about the weekends? Will we wear t-shirts then?

Maybe, but they probably won't be designer tees.

Or will they?

No, they won't.

Damn.

-KV

Fan Letter #392

This is actually an OLD fan letter, replete with my original italicized, fictitious intro. It's also a reminder that it's OK to write us (literarybrothel at gmail). Maybe we'll even put your letter on the site? You never know. -KV

FAN LETTER #392

Ho hum. Another letter from a satisfied customer. Edited at the author's request, for once.

---

Hey Klaus,

It's about time you updated the damn Brothel. However, it just got me into a spat.

Congrats; your web page seemed more interesting to me than the practical ramifications of the Nolan case on California Land Use Regulation. With wireless internet here in law school, we're online in class. In class, the Baseball Stars article made me laugh out loud. Laughing out loud isn't necessarily a bad thing, so long as a teacher or student said something funny. In fact, it doesn't even have to actually be funny, an attempt will usually be sufficient justification, because none of us laugh as much as we would like. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

Let me clarify: the laugh wasn't a giggle or even a chuckle. If was a full laugh, and when I tired to suppress it, the laugh escaped and made it's presence felt in the form of a audible snort and and then a series of muffled snickers.

The display attracted the attention of many a student, and more significantly, one professor. Said professor responded, predictably, with "Mr. Roland, do you have anything to add."

Ninety other students, eager to understand the apparent interest or humorous twist I had in a subject any objective observer would be forced to search their mind for an antonym of fascinating to describe, turned their collective stares upon me. Me, a bit disheveled conducting an in depth analysis on how the [Black] Ninjas* resembled the modern day Marlins, and recalling my glory days beating up on the American Dreams* and Lovely Ladies,* attempted to think of something said in past 5 minutes that could be tied, however remotely, to something humorous, only to fail - primarily because I hadn't listened to a damn word in a good 15 minutes - stammered out, in typical Kevin eloquence "No."

The teacher glared, the students rolled their eyes and/or smirked, and I sunk into my chair. Like any good Republican, I blame you. I blame you for making me look like a jackass in one class, inspiring me to spend another 10 minutes writing this email, thereby putting me at a unconquerable disadvantage in my Corporation class.

While I'm at it, I blame you for Ahnuld getting elected. Why? Because I can. Thanks a lot, asshole.

Love,

Kevin Roland
(Not my real name)

---

*Baseball Stars reference. And another. And another. Kevin, (Nomar,) you're a freakin' unrealistic dork. Unrealistic because there's no way the Black Ninjas or anyone can consistently conquer the glorious American Dreams. Maybe two out of three with some solid pitching and tricky base running (you know what I'm talking about), but that's it. AD is a power house, an 8-bit tour-de-force if you will, and they don't go down without a fight.

Charles Bukowski Quote - Two Days

"I'm single again, trying different women. They're all pretty good if they don't stay over two days."

-Charles Bukowski, 1971

Charles Bukowski on Women, Traps

"some girl in her twenties, just out of a madhouse, rather hanging around now and then. I find her quite sane, quite lovely...especially the color of the eye and the way it looks at me. she's quite nice to me but most women are at the start...then they trap you in, and BOOM!!!...the wake-up...and you think, after all those others, you should have known better...men are too adventurous...esp. old men like me...whiskey, women, horses...same old song...then you're in the cage, wondering what happened."

-Charles Bukowski, 1971

Death of a TA by Parker Briggsmore

Here's a present for the weekend: a post by Parker from the archives of 2001. Enjoy! -KV

DEATH OF A T.A.
PART ONE

To tell the whole of this story would require, in my own opinion at least, an article that is unacceptably long. Despite that apprehension, I have been persuaded by outside sources to relate the occurrence in its entirety.

For all this story's magnitude and scope it began with a simple question asked in a simple manner.

What are you doing tonight?

Wednesday night. On my scholastic calendar, Wednesday night is a relatively calm and short evening. I say calm in that it is my night off from work (academic and vocational) and I say short because I have an eight o'clock class the following morning.

Normally this would not be a deterrent to an accomplished slacker such as myself but this particular class is a lab, in which, I must stay awake for at least three hours to function. Now while sleeping in lab is a little more serious a violation, I still would not be so concerned with my performance if it were not for the fact that if you miss a lab you must make it up that week or you fail the class. This stipulation, compounded with the fact that this class is integral to me going to graduate school next year and not spending a year just bumming around, results in generally calm and short Wednesday nights. Enter my roommate.

I have the rare pleasure of having a good roommate. He is considerate and respectful and since those are the main qualities you look for in a roommate, I have lived with him for several years. This means that, while I may talk disparagingly about him at times, if it ever really came down to a serious matter I would be there for him.

That being said, there are several minor bad qualities about him. While a few pages could be devoted to that subject alone I shall focus (in this article at least) on his uncanny ability to convince me to go against my better judgment. This power he has is exponentially increased when another one of my friends, who shall remain nameless, is in attendance. When these two people are combined in their will to drive me off my academic pilgrimage, I truly believe that my best bet is to pull the mule cart off to the side and start drinking the sacramental wine.

I try my best to avoid this conniving pair on Wednesday night as often as possible, but even the most determined of hermits must eventually leave his burrow for food. Opening the door of my apartment room to 40oz of Old English and The Karate Kid on DVD at midnight meant I never stood a chance. I was fucked, I knew it, and I couldn't do thing about it.

"What are you doing tonight?" the deadly duo asked in a smug voice knowing damn well what I was going to be doing that night. I was going to be watching half drunk The Karate Kid in all its digitally re-mastered glory. And so, my well-intentioned plan of a responsible night went hurtling out the window. Too many repeats of the Tri-Valley Karate Championship will extend The Karate Kid running time to miniseries proportions and my short Wednesday night suddenly became three hours longer than I wanted it to be.

7:00 am, half asleep, in a warm bed, on a cold morning, on three hours of sleep is a bad time to make decisions concerning your academic career. I repeat, a bad time.

Needless to say, I missed my lab that morning. My alarm clock's insistent beeping came and went like a ghost in the night, which is to say, completely unnoticed. I did wake up at 7:00 o'clock that Thursday morning. I clearly remember the coldness of the air biting at my cheeks, the sound of the rain softly falling outside my window and, most of all, the warmth of my blanket. Whether it was some subconscious survival mechanism or a higher being trying to help me out I don't know, but the fact is, I do remember being up at 7:00 in the morning.

This is puzzling because my alarm is set for 7:10. Given this spontaneous gift of wakefulness you would think I would seize the moment, get out of bed and go to school. No dice. "I'll just make up the lab." I thought, as I promptly became reacquainted with the dream world, in which, I was being carried off the mat victorious with Mr. Miyagi smiling knowingly in the background.

Four hours later, the sleeping giant awoke. I scratched myself contentedly at the previous nights adventures. Amidst my habitual morning scratch, I slowly began to realize that I had missed my lab. Bad form to say the least but I assured myself that as long as I made up the lab in another section by the end of the week I was ok.

Thirty minutes and a SportsCenter later I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. While I was in the shower an alarming thought came to me, "What if there were no Friday labs scheduled?" I resolved to get online and check the schedule of classes to find out. I got out of the shower at around noon and made my way to the computer only to be reminded by a grumbling stomach that it was lunchtime. I just woke up too. That means it's breakfast and lunchtime, excellent. Hmm…coco puffs, any milk? Nice. Oh, that frozen pizza pocket sounds tasty right now as well, lets have that too. Two Nutri-grain bars to balance out the meal health wise and I was set.

An hour later, finally satiated, I trundled over to the computer and promptly checked out the scores of my favorite sports teams until I remembered what I had got online for in the first place. That's right, check to see if there are any Friday labs I could make it up in. Hmm, where would that information be? I'm sure there must be at least a couple of Friday labs, hope it isn't an 8:00 lab, don't want to get up that early, if its at 12:00 I could play basketball in the morning, here we go the schedule of lab times………Oh…FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!

Oh Fuck

There were no Friday labs. It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on my head. My lazy little morning/afternoon suddenly became the most wasted and regretted moments of my life. The last lab scheduled was Thursday at 12:30; it was now 1:45 pm.

I sprang into motion, wasting time in my anxiety. The simple acts of putting on my shirt and brushing my teeth became impossibly difficult in my attempts to accomplish them at the same time. Fingers numb with shock struggled with zippers, fumbled with buttons, and pulled at laces. Despite this I was out of my apartment and driving to school in less than five minutes.

During the 10 minute drive to school, no longer able to deny the thought process with hurried motion, my mind began to realize what was happening and the consequences therein. As each thought process began to slowly register I became more and more unstable. Luckily the self defense mechanism of denial kicked in. I began to concoct wild scenarios in which this was not happening. Perhaps I had read the schedule of classes wrong, perhaps I was not remembering the policy of the class correctly, maybe this week was the week we had no lab, maybe the lab got cancelled, maybe…aww who the fuck am I kidding?! I got to get my fucking ass to class!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Will our hero reach his class on time? Will he miss it and fail? is anyone still reading this? Anyone? hello? Answer me damnit! Why wont you answer? To find out the answers to these questions and more, tune in for the next installment of DEATH OF A TA, same bat-time, same bat-channel!

-Parker Briggsmore, 2001

[Unfortunately Parker never completed the next and final installment of DEATH. However, he and Klaus DID manage to pound out a script for a short film. When that film is shot, it will appear on The Brothel. And then you will finally know how this all ends. I know, the suspense. Seriously. -KV]

NOT WORK SAFE

If you are at work, you probably shouldn't read blogs. And you certainly shouldn't read blogs with gratuitous pics of partially naked women in posts pondering the appropriateness of such pics while simultaneously displaying such images, thus negating serious discourse on the subject and leaving the reader wondering if the entire discussion (including the italicized editor's note that doubles as an introduction) isn't just a ruse to scantily cover posting a scandalous pic as a quick way to get more hits for the site. -KV

What Kluas means is that his post isn't work safe. -CL

NOT WORK SAFE

by Klaus Varley

A long time ago we were sent a scandalous picture (below) that is apparently supposed to represent The Literary Brothel.

First of all, that is certainly NOT what The Literary Brothel looks like. The Literary Brothel consists of a laptop, a cat, and some books. Sometimes there is coffee involved. Other times, there is wine. Silver hats are not allowed.

And yet, this has been the only picture sent to us that represents what the site is metaphorically about: ladles.

It is also the only picture ever sent to us.

So, why the dearth of pics - both sent to us and posted on the site? Possibly because The Brothel has relied more on its "literary" content than it's "brothel" tendencies. We prefer an abundance of words over these newer mediums of "photos" and those arts produced by the infant technology called "motion pictures." Those talkies will never catch on.

Nonetheless, in recognition that some people prefer instant gratification over ponderous, deeply satisfying, though-provoking stimulation, we decided to post the old pic.

Besides, we need the hits.

-TLB

A Public Declaration: 1000 Pages a Day

"If you want to get something done, tell as many people as you can that you're going to do it. Then you'll fear their disappointment, and that disappointment will drive you." - Anonymous(1)

History, screenwriting, actual job, The Brothel, day-to-day things, relationship, friends, fitness, f^&k! the plate is getting full.

One more thing. I can do one more thing. A novel.

Write a novel. How hard can that be?

I'll start it here on The Brothel - then it will be combined with my Brothel duties, and not be an extra thing.

Right.

Plus, the writing can then be done from anywhere with an internet connection.

And if there is no internet connection, I can hand-write it, on napkins(2), then type it up later.

I'll write for 30 minutes a day. This is a rough draft. Comments will be appreciated - and possibly acknowledged in the printed version of the novel - but when you make your comments keep in mind the sentence prior to this one.

In other words, this is a rough draft. There will be errors.

(15 minutes left)

Apparently, you can write a decent amount in 30 minutes a day. (See this post) I've already written the first two footnotes, which contain the cleverest jokes so far, so I hope you're reading them as you go along, and not wondering what those numbers in parentheses are. (Blogger lacks footnote technology.)

12 minutes to go. Time to start the novel.

1000 Pages a Day
by Klaus Varley

Published by Random House
Copyright 2009
New York City
The Home of Pace Picante
And Jay-Z

Chapter 1: Acknowledgments

If you are reading this descriptive paragraph instead of the actual acknowledgments, it means they have not yet been written. They have not yet been written, because as I have not yet written the book, and thus do not know who to thank.

However, I assume this section eventually will include brief disclaimer on how there is no possible way I can thank everyone associated with this book and surely I'll forget someone if I do, followed by a long list of names, some of which will share my last name, others being readers of this blog, ending - most likely - with a brief dedication to my parents or my girlfriend, who may be more than my girlfriend by that time.(3)

(Oh no, 4 minutes left! I spent too much time writing footnote 3, balancing the fact that we could be married by that time without sounding too much like I was proposing while walking the fine line of suggesting that if a proposal was on the horizon it wasn't far FAR in the future, but just in the future.)

Damn, 1 minute left. Just enough time for a title of the next chapter:

Chapter 2: Introduction

(To be continued...)

-KV


---footnotes---

(1) I'm not sure anyone actually said this.
(2) I would not recommend writing anything important on napkins, yet Banana Yamamoto allegedly wrote this badass book called Kitchen on napkins while waitressing in Tokyo. But we can't all be Banana.
(3) This does not mean we have immediate plans to get married, this just means that books take a long time to write.

Mitch Hedberg on Letterman 2

Here's another Mitch Hedberg video...I promise we'll get back to the normal text-posts soon, I swear. This has been a Hedberg video break.

Mitch Hedberg on Letterman

Just because. Hey, it's the weekend. Enjoy.

Klaus Varley on Twitter

In case you didn't get it, the title "Klaus Varley on Twitter" has two meanings - Klaus Varley using Twitter AND Klaus Varley writing about Twitter in this post. -KV

We got it. -Charlie Luzon, on behalf of everyone with eyes.

Hey, you said something funny. Record this in the history books. -KV

Just start your piece. -Charlie

One last question. Do you Twit--(Message truncated -ed.)

Klaus Varley on Twitter
Klaus Varley

Not one to jump on the bandwagon too quickly, we waited until the wagon was out of site, through the Donner pass, and safely at Grandma's house before seeing what this "Twitter" was all about.

If you have a Twitter account, please ADD ME or FOLLOW ME or whatever the hell you do, 'cause I have like TWO friends.

http://twitter.com/KlausVarley

If you don't have a twitter account, don't know what I'm talking about, also lost the wagon a while back, take a deep breath and click the link below:

http://twitter.com/KlausVarley

It's painless. Just click, create a password, and you're up and running.

On Twitter, people write what they are doing. Or a thought that comes to their head. Then their followers see these short posts.

It's a lot like Facebook status updates.

In other words, it only works when people do interesting things or have entertaining thoughts.

I, Klaus Varley, will do my best to follow these self-imposed guidelines.

Looking for other people to follow? Michael Ian Black is funny. Shaq is funny (without trying). Wil Wheaton is kinda funny (but way nerdy).

People I would follow on Twitter if they had an account:

Barack Obama (oh wait, he does of course.)
John McCain
Kim Jong-il
Jenna Bush
Tom from MySpace
Bill Gates

I could go on, but I think we've learned a valuable lesson from this list of important and famous people: there is great comedic potential in fake-celebrity Twitter accounts.

Seriously.

-KV

An Inglourious (Basterds) Pledge

An Inglourious (Basterds) Pledge
Langdon Auger

I have finally seen the trailer for Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Bastards. It's official. I can now say that this is the movie for which I am the most excited. Check it out.



In the spirit of those not-at-all-obnoxious-or-arrogant "I pledge" videos put together by Hollywood celebrities, I want to lay all of my attitudes towards this film on the table.


I pledge…


…that I will put this Curious Case of Benjamin Button mess behind me before I walk into the theater. True, both movies star Brad Pitt. And it is also true that both movies have Brad Pitt doing a southern accent which I made sure to ridicule in my previous Button post. But based on absolutely nothing, I contend that this movie will be different. I forswear any latent animosity and resolve to judge this movie based solely on its own merits.

…that I will not judge Eli Roth's starring role in the film. Even though he is a director and not a real actor. And even though he is buddies with Tarantino which pretty much assured him a role. And even though those Hostel movies are a lower level of film making than I am willing to acknowledge. As long as you are knocking some Nazi heads with baseball bats I will give you a chance.

…that I will not hold it against Quentin Tarantino that I still am not able to buy a box set of the Kill Bill movies. It has been over five years since the first one debuted and all I am able to buy is a wimpy single disc edition of both movies. Where is the double disc, edited together masterpiece I have been promised? The extended House of Blue Leaves fight scene? New Japanese anime back stories for Oren Ishii? I am hearing a lot of talk from you Tarantino and not seeing a whole lot of results. Even though I would rather you focus on putting the finishing touches on Kill Bill than move on to a new movie, I pledge that I will see Inglourious Basterds without bringing in my own frustration at the gaping hole in my DVD collection between the letter J and the letter L.

…that Mike Myers's previous embarrassing roles in Shrek 3 and The Love Guru will not prevent me from enjoying this movie. I will only remember Wayne's World (the first one), Austin Powers (also the first one), and Shrek (again the first one). I will also welcome seeing him in a different sort of role, moving away from the manic comic characters with which he has been so successful and so hated.

…that even though the movie is produced by The Weinstein Company I will not let my strong attitudes over the most recent Oscar race affect my judgment of the film. I mean after all, it's not like The Reader was a worse film than The Dark Knight and got nominated because of the shameless Oscar baiting of Weinstein and the blue hairs in the Academy who can't bring themselves to vote for a popular summer movie and instead choose another ridiculous holocaust flick. No, it couldn't possibly be that.

…that despite the August 21 release date, I will not hold the end of the summer downturn in Hollywood movies against the film. Even though it will be facing such grade "A" Hollywood schlock such as G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra and Final Destination: Death Trip 3D, I will have my ticket in my hand on opening day and I will be prepared to enjoy what should be the best movie of the summer.

Now don't screw it up QT. My patience is limited. And get me Kill Bill.

-LA

Don't Fall for me Gently

Here's a poem from The Literary Brothel archives. Enjoy! (But not too much) -KV

Don't Fall for me Gently
Eponine

Fall for me how icicles melt in heat,

Kiss me with passion even if you don't care

Touch me like your body will crumble if I were not there.

Scream, loudly with a tantric smile

as our bodies touch in smooth dampness.

Taste, the warm sweat between my breasts

as you enrapture me with your naughty tongue

Fall for me, impatiently, like there's no tomorrow.

Fall for me madly, with the heat of reptiles,

Basking in the sun.

--