This is a complete shock. If you can't be safe getting double penetrated while sucking off a third dude in the porn industry, where CAN you be safe?

My illusions, people. They are all shattered.

Man -- I've got four IM windows open, a Weezer DVD playing on screen that I'm supposed to review, MSNBC on the TV overhead to try to catch Gael. It's a short-attention-span kind of day.

El Cine!

The Battle of Algiers: This is a movie made to make people like me, who think they know some stuff about movies, feel like complete freakin' idiots. I had no idea what this movie was supposed to be until I had to go hunt for a wire review of it and discovered that it's revered as this genius political war mockumentary that recreates the Algerian Revolution (there was an Algerian Revolution?!?) and cleverly reveals the futility of war. It's French, which reminds me that I haven't studied a lick of the language in preparation for my Paris honeymoon. I'm gonna be like, "Ohhhh buh?" and the baker trying to sell me a loaf (of bread, I hope) is going to be like, "Wee wee, mon appetit, prou frou belie oaf." And I'll say, "Why, YES!" again and again, more loudly each time, until he understands that I want it with cheese. But my point is, this 1965 movie is supposed to be really good. The bread loaf? Can't really say yet.

Oh, Gael just came on! She was great!

Connie and Carla: I couldn't watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It's sitting in my DVD cabinet somewhere and it's been on cable and every time it comes on, I'll watch about 30 seconds of it and just absolutely lose interest. And I know I should watch it, because it was a very successful comedy that a lot of people really loved and it would at least be educational to see what it is that people liked about it, it just feels to me like an obvious sitcom and watching a bad sitcom hurts me like hearing someone sing off key. So is this movie, Nia Vardalos' second as writer/actress, any better? Hard to say: it sounds like Sister Act with drag queens instead of nuns. Still, none can deny the raw cinematic brawn of Toni Collette. She makes even crap smell nice.

Dogville: Whew. Hmm. I had a chance to see this at South by Southwest, but I skipped it because it was on a busy night and was three hours long. Now I have a chance to see it in a more leisurely timeframe and I still am feeling dread. Maybe it's because all of Lars von Trier's films are inherently dreadful, and I mean that as a compliment. Dancer in the Dark and Breaking the Waves are two movies that I love, probably for many of the same reasons that many people hate them. They are wildly sadistic to their female protagonists and not a little bit icky. But they are also challenging and intelligent, amazingly acted and raw. They provoke a gut reaction like nothing else I can compare them to. And now this, with Nicole Kidman. Say what you will about Nicole Kidman, but she takes chances in her career and they pay off in ways that they don't for, say, Julia Roberts in Full Frontal. Hell, I guess I will go see this. I think it will be fantastically awful. But good.

Kill Bill: Vol. 2: I saw Kill Bill: Numero 1 in fantastic circumstances -- at the posh Alamo Drafthouse Lake Creek with friends from JournalCon. But I'd also only gotten like 3 hours sleep that weekend, so that movie played out like a crazy dream on the edge of reality. Watching it again on DVD recently with my brother and parents, who hadn't seen it, wasn't too different. It still felt otherworldly and cool, crazy and surreal. I love Quentin. I think if he ever makes a truly bad movie, it'll still be 10 times more entertaining than any other movie it's competing against at the box office that week. The early reviews for Vol. 2 are pretty ecstatic and it sounds like even those who didn't like the first one will find things to savor here. Smart move getting that DVD on store shelves this week, Quentin. And you were pretty good on American Idol last night, too.

The Punisher: Shouldn't The Rock or Vin Diesel be in this movie? Who the Hell is Thomas Jane? Yes, I saw the rancid turd Dreamcatcher and I still don't know who this guy is supposed to be. And Travolta? And the vestigial fart-smell of Dolph Lundgren hanging over this comic book property? I don't know, guys. Some movies ought to be left in the funnybooks.

The United States of Leland: Oh, lookit me! I'm The United States of Leland! All the other good pretentious titles were taken, but I could just as easily be called, Floating About Leland, or Tipping the Bellychain, or Stop-Starters or some other bullshit title that tells you not a damned thing on what I'm about. I'm The United States of Leland! I've got Ryan Gosling, who is to critics what catnip is to... er, felines! And Jena Malone, that girl you like from Donnie Darko and Kevin Spacey, who... well, forget that I have Kevin Spacey since everybody hates him now. But lookit me! The United States of Leland! I'm dark and important and INDEPENDENT! You love Independent Cinema don't you? Pick up a chai latte and sneak it into the theater! I'm The United States of Leland! Fuck The Man!

DVDs: Aw yeah, Master & Commander! Omie gonna get his testosterone on. And I swear on all that is holy that I'm going to try to watch Frida finally, I swear it.

L'il Floaty Omie Head watches The Swan and thinks sad thoughts.

I shouldn't tell you this but Rebecca does a really hilarious impression of the very first girl that was on The Swan (the one who came out of the process a blonde). She sort of brings her lip down and curves it up at the sides and pretends to cry and wails, "I'm so beautiful!" It's the funniest thing ever.

Most interesting thing about this CNN story is how in the last few paragraphs, they quote "Google" like it's a person. "Google says..." "We spoke to Google, who told us..." "Next, on Entertainment Tonight: CoJo hangs out with Google!"

Oh, SNAP! I didn't even realize until I just happened to glance at that little sidebar to the left there

<=== Eyes. That way. And scrolly down a bit.

... that Bloggstyle is one year old! Don't worry, it's not a huge deal. There doesn't need to be an anniversary for Terribly Happy AND for Bloggystyle, but it's been exactly one year up to yesterday that I've had this blog. Time flies, huh? Like a motherfucker.

Anyway, thank you Bloggystyle. You saved my Web site.

Playing on the phone as I waited on hold with Bank of America to figure out something on my mortgage: Bobby Brown's "My Prerogative."

I think that means something. The bank is doing crazy things with my money, maybe.

My high school chum Bobby Harris drew this a few weeks ago to commemorate the first edition of "Space Monkeys!" (actually, he was just bored and wanted to draw it). Obvoiusly, he rocks. Click on the thumbnail to see the full glory of Bobby's "Space Monkeys!" art.

It doesn't do a whole lot of good to come here and say that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was, for me at least, one of those rare movies that actually makes you feel more alive, enriches your soul and skin and makes you leave the theater feeling sunny and whole (even when it's cold and rainy as it inexplicably was on Saturday).

Because by hyping it, I'm now part of the problem. If you go see this movie and it's not absolute cinematic perfection, you're going to think I'm some crappy movie hype machine. Put a dollar in me and I'll go Michael Medved on your ass. Best to go in with low expectations, right? How else to enjoy The Matrix Revolutions without lowering them to subterranean levels?

There's a feisty discussion going on about overrated movies. I hope Eternal Sushine doesn't fall into that category even though everyone I know who's seen it, even hardened stick-in-the-mud critical types, profess to loving this movie with a fervor usually reserved for baby kittens and some marsupials.

Is it wrong to love a movie this much and then talk about it? Is it wrong to admit that you had tears streaming down your eyes for a good chunk of the movie, not because it was particularly sad (although I can think of few things sadder than the idea of erased memories of love), but because the idea was executed with skill; because a crazy-ass idea for a movie worked, and worked well. I get like that when I see a movie that I think just works. I think it's beautiful and mind boggling when it goes right. It moves me when an idea is conveyed with intelligence, grace and warmth.

But hey. I cried back in the day at Savannah Smiles. I'm kind of a push-over.