Thighs Wide Shut

Top o’ de mornin’ to ya!

[OMF WTGZ]
+ Meg & Jack (& the spirit of Gondry) visit Springfield
+ Berry, Stipe, Mills, & Buck, that one shining moment
+ that one shining moment
+ that one shining moment
+ Rachael Ray promo bloopers, although her new talk show is one hour of eye slittin’ BOO-pers

Roger Waters
Jones Beach
September 15th

Wheneth I was a child I had a fever, my beloved brother and sister reared me on the classics of rock, and yes, they did it less annoyingly than Jack Black would’ve. Although I never fell for the Dead like they did, even though our family did rock the world’s dopest station wagon adorned with 100+ bumper stickers and a Steal Your Face hood that screamed to cops ‘PULL ME OVER!’, they did get me crazily hooked on the Floyd of Pink. Hell, my parents aint no crazy music lovers (they only buy CD soundtracks from movies), but after hearing about how they stumbled upon a floating Floyd show in the canals of Venice, I certainly wished that I was there. So it had always been a dream of mine to see the boys live and in the flesh. Howevs, after years and years of legal battles between the current touring and recording group known as Pink Floyd and the man, the myth, the legend, Roger Waters, I was really confused as to who or what Pink Floyd drooly is. After a lotta tossin and turnin, I finally took a side: Watersz’. I mean, the dude’s fingeprints are purty much all over the greatest double disc (& one of my flavs) of balls thyme, and which in turn, begat the single greatistest rock movie mt everest (much respek to the Who’s Tommy), The Wall.

That’s why it was an easy choice to czech out Waters’ tour over David Gilmour’s, and hell, over the David Gilmour Girls’ tas well. And boy oh chef boyardee did I make the right decision, cause jolly Roger sure rocked the effin hizouse/ampy-theater the other night, even with his faux David Gilmour in tow. While I woulda rather he played The Wall in its entirety instead of Dark Side of the Moon, I aint gonna complain, even though that’s what I do best, besides JOing to Chris Isaak. For 2+ hours I got my juss desserts (‘Vera’/’Bring The Boys Back Home’ live was off the coat AND meat rack) and then some (like seeing 50 year olds smoke more ganj than I). Bonestly, I bet Waters puts on the breastest show that an old fogie of his gen could possibly put on (even if that fogie looks a lot like Richard Gere). Can the same really be said of the Rolling Stones or Dylan? Me donts think so.

There was one par-dick-u-lust-lee franztatsic moment that I will take with me ingrained in my brain to the grave: the release of the infamous inflatable pig during ‘Sheep’. Ya see, at the MSG show the other nite, I bet the pig probably floated to the roof and later was brought back down, but at Jones Biatch, shiz is outdoors, so the pig kept goin up and up and up, til wees couldn’t sees its no mo. I first thought of The Simpsons (you figure out the two pig refs I’m thinking of), and then my thoughts turned to its eventual return to mother earth. Imagine yer sittin at home and the all of the sudden a giant plastic bacon thing lands on yer house. In this day in age, you wouldn’t think that it hailed from a rock concert, but more like an Al Qaeda rally.

The show left me with one nagging question. It was totally boss for Gilmour and Waters to reunite for Live 8 and all, but why not take that show on the road? Shiz would make more money than Mark Cuban selling cuban sangwhiches. But I guess I shouldn’t even bother asking dat question when I already know the answer: when pigs fly!

No Miracles on Rice were abound last noche as the Redskins once again shit the bed like Spud, and thus I’m officially resigning as a Redskin fan until they bench Mark Brunell, or should I say I Fucking Mark Suck Brunell, or Mark Boo-nell, or Mark POO-Nell, or Mark Brutal, or mAARPk Brunell, or Marked For Deletion Brunell, or , or I’m Worse Than A Hangnail Brunell, or I’m So Fargin Old And Blind That I need Mark Bushnells, or Mark My Career Is More Over Than (Bru) Nell Carter, or Why Didn’t We Aquire Jeff Gaycia In The Offseason Dumbbell Organization, or Marktwan Randle Els Yeah Time or 700 Play Playbook That Requires The QB To Complete At Least One Pass Over 3 Yards Boogernell, or This Season Blows More Goats Than Balki Bartokomous So Peas Slit My Eyes Out Like Dali & Buñuel. Is it Football Season 2007 yet?

^‰not to be confused with Give Me Head Alfredo Garcia

Jesus Camp
Ministry of Zounds
Trailer

The film’s title is purty Snakes On A Planeish, but maybe they shoulda gone with an even more direct name: Scary Movie 5 (yes, I’m obsessed with renaming movies, so sue me, or lick my grundle). Whyski? Jesus Camp, an unbiased, unflinching, and unnerving look into today’s hardcore Christian youth and their summers spent at ‘camp’ (well, at least they have go-karts), is thighs down the mos frightening movie that will hit theaters this year. Maybe I’m a bit too naive or a bit too Jewish, but I really had no idea how powerful and how fearful we all should be of the Evangelical Church. While the focus is on the (brainwashing of their) kids, the underlying theme is, we’re crazy Christians and we vote in large numbers and we basically shape the policies and practices of these United States of Leland America. And if that idea freaks the Freezy Freakies right off your hands, you aint seen nuttin til you see said kids emulating Jimmy Swaggart, speaking in tongues, convulsing/conniption fitting on the floor, and praising a cut-out poster of GW Bush (I guess it would be a bit more whoreific if they were exalting a John Kerry cut-out)!! Peoples, you can’t make this stuff up, not even if it was stuff not made up on YouCantMakeItUp.blogspot.com. And remember, the Religious Right may be wrong, but they aint taking a left turn anytime soon. Juss whatever you do, don’t make a u-turn and rent the poop on a cross that is Oliver Stone’s U-Turn… even if you have the world’s larget boner for Powers Boothe!

Apt MPupil3: ‘Awesome Gawd’ by Rich Mullins [duh]

Mo Richard Scarry-ed-ness: Kids in Ministry International, which includes hot clips of kids freakin out more than the freaks in Freaks [watch the ENTIRE flick here], which was not directed by Jonathan Frakes

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Breast In Show

Jesus Camp opens in bumblefork today, NYC on the 22nd, and st elsewhere whenever

The U.S. vs John Lennon
This Will Do While We Wait For The U.S. vs Ringo Starr
Trailer

Question, do you dig on John Lennon? If the answer is no, you aint gonna make it with anyone, anyhow. If the answer is yes, then you are obviously a thing called a human being. Hell, that’s probably the mos rhetorical question since ‘does it smell like upyo in here?‘ Well, if you are a human being you will heart this doc. While the title (here we go again) would suggest that many a meaty conspiracy theories will be flying off the screen, what’s presented is already more publicly knowledgeable than the location of the White House. If you don’t know where that is, contact Wesley Snipes. And if you’re a casting director, contact him anywayz, as I’m sure he could use the work. But where vs JL lacks in fresh info, it sure makes up for it in it’s authority. This aint no Nick Broomfield cant get no clerance love affair here! The list of talking heads are beyond the knees bees (Walter Cronkite, Bobby Seale, George McGovern, Geraldo!), with a ton o’ Yoko to boot, + the soundtrack oozes with nuttin but Lennon’s solo music, so what we end up with instead of an eye-opening exposé is simply a great portrait of the man behind the musician, after the Beatles let it be and Yoko let John be himself. Give peace a chance, and while yer at it, give this doc a chance, and after that, give me 7 HJs and 12837 BJs.

Possible Porno Name: The UteruS vs John’s Lemon

Unsatisfied with this?: Netflix Imagine: John Lennon [trailer]

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

until next time the balcony is clothed…

and one from the master of sesame chicken himself
Tom Wellington

GO ME, & ME OUTTA THIS WORLD PHOTOCHOP SKILLS!