Friday, February 04, 2005

can you feel it, baby...

Lest you think my life is the least bit glamorous, let me describe for you my night tonight, a Friday night. Upon returning home late from work, I decided to make dinner. Having no money and no food, I opened a can of tasteless Campbell's soup from the Bargain Bank, where food is sent when it's too old to adorn the dusty shelves of ancient corner stores. I then took my soup and week-long opened bottle of wine to the living room where I re-watched the Marky Mark episode of Inside the Actor's Studio.
And I have this to say: Why does the world refuse to honor the genius of Renaissance Man? It's a fantastic movie and no one clapped for it when Lipton started talking about it. They clapped for Basketball Diaries. They clapped for Three Kings. You know they clapped for Boogie Nights. My God, they even clapped for Fear. Why must you disrespect Renaissance Man?
My favorite part of the entire episode is when James Lipton starts naming rappers who became these amazing actors. He looks over at Marky Mark and says, "Isn't it amazing how many rappers have become such screen talents. There's you, Ice Cube, Mos Def, Will..."
Will? Is he referring to Will Smith? Like, they just had dinner last night? Like they talk on the phone every day? Like Jim and Will, best friends forever?
Please.
George Clooney, Marky Mark's co-star in Three Kings, the Perfect Storm and the Italian Job, was never mentioned. Nor was the Italian Job mentioned at all, an incredibly fabulous movie. Something's up. They must be fighting. It's very weird not to mention Clooney. I mean, I've never met the man and I bring him up hourly.
Marky Mark is of course adorable and has some sweet guns. But the boy is full of shit. For crying out loud, he takes himself so goddamn seriously. He claims to feel such a responsibility to the kids from the 'hood because he went to jail for 60 days when he was 16. As if he possesses this ridiculous baggage of life experience none of us could possibly understand. Hello? I've had like, 8 therapists. Don't talk to me about baggage.
Finally, to add to my shitty soup and trashy TV misery, I was forced to watch a commercial in which this hot guy goes to Hallmark, buys 3 greeting cards and as a result, gets a free teddy bear, which he then gives to his stunning girlfriend who appears thrilled by this appalling gift. I don't even know where to begin with this one...

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Two words: Well Said.
I enjoyed the post. Made me laugh, and recall my own thoughts on watching that episode of Actor's Studio. Unfortunately, all I have is Top Ramen. Sometimes, I even cook it. Thanks for getting me to laugh -theChief

A.P.S. said...

Beth

Quick thing, your post was great but come on sis, Clooney wasent in Italian Job. Your slipin babe and I'm the only one you can count on to keep you in check. Better luck next time.

Your baby Bro

Spots said...

Oh yeah. What's wrong with me? Clooney has a fabulous house on Lake Cuomo, which I somehow feel makes him a cast member on the Italian Job. That's really unlike me. I'm slipping.
I'm old, Lex.

Anonymous said...

This wit is charming, unless it's angry and directed at you. Spots, you do have the one distinction of cracking me up while telling me what an asshole I am. Well, you've got some other distinctions as well.
I miss you, babe. I miss you a lot.

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