Wednesday, June 9, 2010

A month.

It has been a month since I have blogged. Sick. Apologies.

So much has happened in a month. The Cannes Film Festival came and went and I didn't utter a word. I regret this. Because now, there's just no way I can go back and re-tread all that ground. But be assured...there was some spectacular fashion. Of both types. Good and bad. Maybe, in order to make up for lost time, I'll try to post a pic or two from Cannes at the bottom of each post as an attempt at re-capping. Okay, that sounds good.

As for the films at Cannes...well, we'll know which ones are actually "good" around December. Because that's when they'll hit theaters State-side.

And, although I usually cover the MTV Movie Awards, I didn't this year. But, unlike Cannes, I feel no guilt for not bringing you up to speed. Because they were awful. Please just trust me when I tell you they were not worth my time then and they certainly aren't worth my time now. Like, you know it's bad when my fellow culture critic (my dearest Alice...check her site "In Wonderland") could only comment on the adorable Tom Felton's un-adorable V-neck shirt.

Bland. Boring. Lame. These are the words that now describe the MTV Movie Awards. The same awards show that used to be notorious for it's shock value and salaciousness is only deserving of our pity. Embarassing.

This is why I am choosing to live in the now. And what's happening right now is World Cup. I am about to collapse from anticipation. And, just so you know, I'm cheering for England.

That's right mother-fuckers. Go ahead. Give me your best shot. Call me what you will. Call me un-American. Submit me to some fucking goverment anit-patriotism watch-list. My secret agent dad will just take me right off it anyway.

Because what you don't understand is that pre 2006, I could've given a rats ass about Soccer. Totally didn't know and didn't care. And then I moved to England. And it was the Year of the Cup. And England got killed in the World Cup. And it didn't matter. I was hooked. I fucking loved it. I loved the game. I loved watching England play the game. I loved watching the WAG's and their High Street Tans and Chav hair in the stands. So they are my team. Deal with it. If America beats them on Saturday, of course I'll cheer for the U.S. But the U.S. will lose. And England could go far (don't worry, they won't win it all. Idiots.)

Point is...World Cup is all I will be doing for the next month. That and going to see the new A-Team movie so I can decide if I like Bradely Cooper or not. I'm betting on not. Esepcially since he's up against Liam Neeson who is definitely hotter.

That's enough for now I guess. But it's good to be back. And I'll be blogging often for the next bit. Up next is book chat. Because I have read some awesome stuff lately that I want to share. And I want you to share with me as well.

But for now, here's my girfriend at Cannes. It really always starts and ends with her. Her style sense just can't be beat. Show me someone who's consistently better and I'll root against England.

At the airport

Hours later at Karl Lagerfeld's

The next day

Closing Ceremony day

and night


  1. You know what's gone wrong with MTV and their awards shows? It's that they're still trying to shock us. Very little, unfortunately, shocks people anymore, at least if they aren't there in person. I believe one critic described the show "as if a 14-year-old learned to cuss for the first time." (Was it Lainey?) Either way, it seriously deserves no attention. The most shocking thing MTV could do these days...or anyone for that show us something real, simple, and honest. Shock value has lost its value.

  2. Thank you for the plug, dearest one!
    Also, you've almost convinced me that your girlfriend (who I have loathed ever since she arrived with her squinty eyes, thin lips, and manly 65-year-old lady face in "Troy" as supposedly the most beautiful woman in all of history, bleck bleck bleck!) isn't entirely abhorrent. She's got nice legs.