A Reflection On ‘Spring Breakers’ featuring Kimberly Millies

March 27, 2013 § Leave a comment

 I insisted my two best friends and I see Spring Breakers tonight, mostly because I love James Franco. Everything he does is weird and amazing and I can never look away from it. Plus, Selena Gomez and Vanessa Hudgens are trainwrecks and I really wanted to watch them make asses of themselves on camera. 

I got more than I bargained for.

You could even say my life has been changed. Forever.

I really don’t want to spoil this movie for you, because nothing should ruin seeing this first hand. There aren’t words. It’s not good, it’s not bad, it’s Spring Breakers.

But for your reading enjoyment, here are some post-viewing reflections from myself and my heterosexual platonic life partner Kimberly Millies.

It was as if MTV Spring break paired up with ‘The Sopranos’ for a teen melodrama that was aired on PaperView, but the group of friends this movie centralizes around makes no sense. Three crazy drugged out sluts and one youth group Christian, played woodenly by Selena Gomez? To counteract this confusion in the plot, they intersperse shots of the girls hugging a little too closely to be ‘just friends’ approximately every five minutes. Whatever ‘hell’ these girls are living in must be terrible, considering they ‘have to get out of here,’ aka campus, before their world ends, aka they smoke more weed in bikinis at home as opposed to the beach. It’s not surprising at all that they have no problem saddling up to a wannabe rapper/part time drug dealer/full time douchebag, played by Lord Franco, when you see them rob a Chicken Shack with hammers and a water gun to afford this seven day Florida salvation.

Spring Breakers was directed and written by Harmony Korine, the ‘genius’ who brought us Kids in 1995 and then not much else. To prove that it’s not titillating exploitation softcore starring mildly famous people, there’s lots of weird monologues about ‘how beautiful’ life is, when really these dumb skanks are just on spring break in a place that confusingly is not Panama City Beach. You want to pretend you get the artsy undertones, the mood lighting, the repetitive dialogue, but it’s really hard to look for them when you are watching James Franco trying to deep throat two guns that Vanessa Hudgens and Ashley Benson are using as strap-ons.

If you’ve been to LA or New York and thought the guy pushing his ‘fresh mixtape’ on the corner was hard to listen to, you’ll wish you were deaf when Franco starts rapping/modernizing the ‘3 Little Pigs’ to the ‘4 Little Chicks,’ but your longing for a life without hearing will reach new heights when he performs ‘Everytime’ by Britney Spears on the piano as the three girls left dance a gun ballet in monokinis and ski masks around him.

After one of the girls is shot in the arm and departs Florida, like a normal human being concerned with survival, Benson and Hudgens are determined to remain and continue with their useless crime spree, in an attempt to give their life meaning. It’s here that you are treated to the only artful scene in the entire movie. That’s right, a menage-a-trois between Franco, Hudgens, and Benson where you see a lot of legs and thankfully no peen or Hudgens tits. Don’t worry, though, Hudgens successfully fakes a few squealing orgasms from rubbing her feet against Franco in a pool while sucking on his cornrows.

But what this film really is is a PSA about spring break for the next generation, disguised as an attempt to be creative that ends up misleading us from reality. What lessons does Harmony Korine have for us? One: don’t rob anyone to pay for your shitty spring break in St. Pete’s where no one spring breaks anyway, and where you will not see any topless bitches because this isn’t Mexico. Two: Don’t be one of the topless bitches having beer poured into your mouth in a stance that looks like some guy is pissing it into you unless you’re dating R. Kelly. Three: Don’t do blow off anyone’s tits. It doesn’t make it feel any better and who knows how much semen those puppies have seen since exiting the plane or bus. Four: Don’t let anyone bail you out of jail you don’t know. They will want to fuck you and you WON’T want to fuck them, even if they are James Franco, because they probably have a dollar sign tattoo in an exposed place. Five: Don’t kill anyone. No matter what these bitches say, the fact that two scrawny white sluts in bikinis took out seven gangsters in 30 seconds is wildly unbelievable and would never happen, especially in FLORIDA. Six: Always touch up your roots. Exposed roots are so trashy.

You will laugh. You will laugh more. You won’t cry because honestly, these girls are morons, and you won’t feel bad for them at all. Maybe Spring Breakers was a scathing social commentary on declining morality combined with an action comedy, but I thought it was about four annoying girls whining on a beach while James Franco performed the world’s most bizarre stand-up comedy routine. You couldn’t afford to go on spring break? Neither could I, but instead of robbing a chicken restaurant and doing blow off of AK-47s, I stayed home and spent $10 on this shitty movie and then wrote a blog about it.

Despite everything about this movie we will still see it again, and probably purchase it on DVD. The only thing we will regret about this entire experience is not getting to watch Vanessa Hudgens die.

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7 Reasons Why Real Life Should Be More Like Game of Thrones

March 19, 2013 § 2 Comments

1. That gold arbor wine sounds amaaaazing.
As everyone knows, I love consuming malted and mulled beverages. Every time Tyrion, Bron, the late King Robert, or even Cersei shouts “MORE WINE!” I’m like, “get it shorty. Do yo thang.” Soldiers return from battle and pass up water, instead quenching their thirst with the liquid of the vine. If that isn’t badass, I don’t know what is. Whenever I’m watching, all I can do is think about how fun it would be to go to the Plaza with these people. Or how much fun it would be if it was socially acceptable to drink brown ale with every meal. Ah, to live in Westeros.

2. Dragons. Duh.
Oh, you wanna kill the competition? Grab a dragon. Done.

3. The shape shifting possibilities are endless.
At the end of season 2, Jaqen H’ghar says goodbye to Arya and turns around, then turns back to deliver a sassy one-liner and he has a DIFFERENT FACE. Whaaaaat?! Can you imagine what you could do if you had a bunch of different faces? Say goodbye to having to avoid your ex-boyfriend in public. Say goodbye to lengthy make-up application. You’re ugly? It don’t matter. GRAB A NEW FACE.

4. The fear of smoke monster babies would be motivation for better contraception use in teenage mothers.
Don’t wanna give birth to a murderous cloud of smoke that slaughters people who attempt to claim the throne? Wrap it, divas.

5. Everyone is honest with their feelings, sexual exploration is rampant, and people do whatever (and whoever) the fuck they want.
You don’t want to marry the Frey girl? Fuck the bridge, who needs the bridge! Marry the slutty other one. You do you, Robb. Follow your heart. You want to love a prostitute? Go for it, Tyrion. Fuck da haters. Shae is a bad bitch, anyway. (The obvious exception is the whole ‘secretly gay’ thing Renly’s got going on. That’s not so cool.)

6. Oaths and alliances are the basis of society.
Everyone is honest and honorable. And if they aren’t they’re beheaded. Badass. I know it seems cheesy, but I love the idea of a world where our words are worth more than money, our pride worth more than possessions. That sounds truly magnificent. Especially since we’re encouraged to hide how we feel and not confront our feelings directly. Honesty, bravery, honor, all that stuff is sexy. And it’s rampant in GoT. Let’s bring it to our real lives.

7. The women never wear pants.
But let’s face it, I don’t either. So I guess my life already is like Game of Thrones.

Remembering Annie

March 12, 2013 § Leave a comment

I was named for a very special woman, someone who my family buried today. I admired her greatly, but I wasn’t able to be at her funeral. I had to work today and turn in a paper. It seems so silly when I write it down. I should have been there.

My great aunt was raised on a farm outside of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. She could have never left, like the rest of her family did, but she chose to travel the world, to read everything she could get her hands on, to be passionate about politics. She had a thirst for knowledge that rarely was quenched. When I was younger she would write to me every time she traveled, sharing with me what she saw. She’d send me trinkets from around the globe. I think I have jewelry from every major European city. She went so far as to leave me a rosary in her will – something I’m sure she saw as a last inside joke. She always thought it was hilarious that I wasn’t Catholic.

I have not had a real conversation with my aunt in many years, nor have I seen her. Her Alzheimer’s, aggravated with bi-polar disorder and depression, took her from me long before today. Her husband went as far to ask us not to visit, claiming she wouldn’t want us to visit. He was probably right, but when I got numerous calls and texts from my family asking where I was today, I was filled with shame. She loved me, and I should have been there.

What scares me about what happens when we’re far apart from people is what we forget about them, regardless of how much we love them or they loved us. I know what she looked like, but when I picture her her face is blurry. The exact sound of her voice escapes me. All I can remember is how she made me feel. How much she encouraged me, how beautiful she reminded me I was every time we talked. She always told me to write down everything that happened to me, and told me to read everything I could find. She was magnificent.

What scares me moving forward is all the things that I know now that I forget. Will I remember all the people I grew up with? How much fun we had together? Will I remember the way I felt about someone when I loved them, even if that is gone? Will I remember the way it felt to hug my mom when she’s gone someday?

It’s hard for me to trust new people, but the love I feel for my family is all-encompassing. I hate to be touched by most people, but when my grandfather hugs me it feels like home. When my sister tells me she loves me, I don’t run away in fear.

It is hard for me to be honest about the way that I’m feeling, especially lately, but I am so grateful that Annie showed me to be brave and to pursue new things. No matter how insecure I am about other things in my life, I’m still writing things down. In fact, writing’s become the only way I can be completely honest with myself. Annie, I am so proud to be named after you. Thank you for showing me ways to be brave. I really love you, and I hope you’re at peace, whatever that meant for you.

Where Am I?

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