Thighs Wide Shut

– Unconfirmed reports say that Lohan may have eaten breakfast this morning.

– Why is there an IHOP on Mannyhattan and NOT one Waffle House? I’m tellin ya, I’m gonna find an investor and we’re going to open one in Times Square and make 7 ga-zillion billion dollars. [via Made of Brawnsteeen]

– Rosa Parks is old and losing it and may not be able to testify in her case vs OutKast’s record company BMG. However, HeyYa Johnson, Aintathang Buttachickenwing Edwards, and Spread Forme Jenkins may be called to the stand.

– Can anyone peas eggsplain to me why National Museum of the American Indian isn’t the National Museum of the Native Americans?

– I’ll review Open Water berry soon, but in the mean time, czech out the true story that inspired it.

– That uber-scrum-deli-umptious blondie from the last Bond movie, Rosamund Pike, has just signed on for the Doom movie, which stars De Rock and that dude from LOTR: Two Towers with the crazy-arsed helmet.

– Fun and freedom of speech has officially ended at the Uni of Merryland. “Rock and Roll, Part II” has not only been banned from Terps football games, but now basketball games. Maybe if Duke didn’t suck so much kak in the 1st place, this wouldn’t even be an issue. [via and all a-polly-gees to Navi the Blue Devil Dog]

– Pitney Bowes is auctioning off autographed envelopes. The person who bidded on Ryan Seacrest’s should be flogged in a public square.

– The Shawshank Redemption breast film to not win Breast Picture? Uh, hello, Citizen Kane (or perhaps Coz’ pre-Peabs work in Ghost Dad)?

– Warner Brudders delays the release of Ollie Stone’s Alexander, claiming it’ll help their chances with Mr Oscar. I dunno bout you, but after seeing the trailer, they should start preparing Razzie speeches.

– Cybill Shepherd is gearing up to play Don King. Leslie Shepherd could not be reached for comment.

– Love Ohio State and need a sweater? Bid on this phatty sweater.

– Be the first on yer block to visit MoMA: Revenge of the Sith.

– Do you have a NFL stadium fetish? Click here.

– Eminem M&Ms to fight breast cancer.

– Steeler QB Ben Roethlisberger got em self a website. And thanks gawd the url aint benroethlisberger.com. Cause who would ever remember how to spell that sheetz?

– Dumbestist thing of the week. [via Zach de la Roachclipper]

– Plastered outta yer mind on St Ides? Don’t drive a car, ride a horse!

– Go to CVS, buy a stomach and save 4 whole dollars!!

My summer started with an absolute MD/DC sizzle and ended on a MD/DC super-high stizzle. If you can remember my memo to Memorial Day, me rocked the Delaware beaches, saw Live play live in the burbs for free, fed a talking pig trash, played air hockey, was tempted by a ‘Best Sub Deal In America’ advertising ploy, and hung out with me family & friends and my boy Jedidah. Well, Labor Day weak end came and passed and the only thing it had in common wit Memorial Day was that I chilled wit the fam and Jed. This time around I was joined by my brothers-in-arms and co-owners of my fantasy football team, The Nasty Shwag, The Thinker & The Steiner.

It all started Saturday when me and The Thinker went to pick up our thrifty piece of shit car from Thrifty. They were all out of cars from their fine line of economy mobiles, so they offered us a lovely Chrysler Sebring convertible at no extra charge. (bi the weigh, car rental agencies are the only way most Americans will ever drive American cars). I was quite eggcited as I don’t get to drive too often and the fact that I’ve never pimped a ride in a true convertible (unless you count a Corvette with t-tops). We headed down the ugliest turnpike known to man, the Dirty Jersey one. Half the way into our trip, right where Delawhere bleeds into Merryland, we stopped off at the mecca of roadside eats: Le Waffle House. 10 seconds and 76 lbs of eggs, waffles, and meat later, we were all in a food coma and back on route to Rocktown.

Later on Saturday, we peeped out my boy Davey Lashinkins & his lovely wife’s fine DC abode, scarfed down some Mexicano comidas with crew + Jebidiah, met up with Joe E Tartar, and downed some brew and other brain cell killers while czeching out the hot biznatches at Sequoia in G-town.

Sunday had three goals:

1) Museuming – once again packing as much culture in a window of less than 4 hours. Didn’t break my recent record of 5 with the Steiner (Met, Frick, Gugg, Neue, & Whit), but didn’t do too shabby either rocking and pin-rolling thru the freeze dried ice cream at Air & Space Museo, gazing at the the money Monet’s, Manet’s, and mayonnaise at The National Gallery of Art (both East & West wingers), and paying mad respect to Oscar the Grouch, Mr Roger’s neighborhood sweater, the Fonz’ jacket, and Archie Bunker’s chair at The National Museum of American History.

2) Crabbing – yep, I hate crabs again. I mean I ate them again. This time with me ma and pa, sis and bro, their loved ones, and a cast of thousands… who came by for dessert. And oh boy, dem desserts! I lucked out with the greatest mumsy ever cause she never forced me to eat boring vegetables that I didn’t like and she always made/makes the must yummy scrumptiousdiddlyrecockulous treats you did ever have ever eatenen. She whipped out a key lime pie, a chocolate-chip cookie pie, a peach cobbler, and some chocolate-peanut butter square thingie things. [Note: if you ever want yer mother to make u umcredible eats for no dang reason, make a point of complimenting her cooking from this day fwd]

3) Bowling – at the alley where I pitched a 231 over the July 4th weak end, the Bowl America in Ghettosburgh, MD. The six of us (myself, My Man Marvkus, Joe E Tartar, Jebidah, the Thinker, and the Steiner) happened upon the greatestist deal of the century. For 12 measly bones, you could bowl as much as you wanted to from 9pm to 1am. Sure I thought we’d knock back 3 games, but 6 or 7? That’s f-in Lebowski Fest propositions. And with the money we saved, we put it all into alcohol, which never improves one’s game, but makes the sport seem rather Herculean.

Monday had three goals:

1) Draft the rest of our keeper-style fantasy football team (see complete roster below).

2) Leave town.

3) Eat at Waffle House… again!!

Lessons learned from the not so weak, weak end:

1) If you’ve never been to a Waffle House, you shouldn’t be allowed to vote or live in this country.

2) Washington DC is perfect for families with no money… all the museums are free!

3) Freeze-dried ice cream is still the ice cream of the future. Die in hell Dippin-Donts.

4) People who are allergic to cats shouldn’t stay in a house with cats.

5) Live fantasy football drafts are the new crack-cocaine.

6) My mother and father are the breastestist (an ongoing lesson).

7) Never eat female crabs.

8) By law, it should be a right, not a privilege, to drive a Chrysler Sebring convertible.

And without further Freddy Adu, here’s yer 2004-05 line-up for

– Welcome back to the House of Her Royal Thighness. First off, the Lohan, was almost KILLED on the set of Herbie: Redux!! Secondly, Momma Lohan sez that dem ‘promise rings’ do not mean that her daughter and the Fez are engaged. And lastly, which duo has the mostestist fun, carries the mostestist designer bags, owns the greatestist set of funbags this side of Elvira, and has the combined IQ of melba toast? Yep, Lohan and her ‘mentor’, Tara Reid. And not only that, but both of em are vying to be Paris Hilton’s best friend. [2nd to last via F Scott WITZgerald]

– Former WWF giant, The Ultimate Warrior has hit rock bottom… and I ain’t talking about a brewery neither. Go on and bid on his two championship belts AND some of his finest panties and wristbands. [via Navi the Terrible]

– More eBay fun: Dying to win a phonecall from a drunk and armless midget? You missed the boat. [via Zach de la Roachlip]

– Lend a hand (or a vagina) and please help de-virginize Marc. His greatestist achievement in life is when he finished second in his 2nd grade spelling bee!! Go gettem girls!! [via BadGas]

– Wanna be cultured as quickly as possible? Go to these five museums in less than four hours like The Thigh Master and The Steiner did: The Met, The Gugg, The Whit, The Neue, & The Frick.

– Khaaan!!!.com (speaker on, brain off) And if you don’t know what that means, yer obviously not a golfer. [via Boris Becker]

– And speaking of pointless internet stuff, You’reTheManNowDog.com has seen better days.

– Thigh Master fact: everyone in my high school Algebra class owned a TI-80, eggcept for me.

– Fatboy Slim and Bootsy C team up for a remake of Steve Miller’s ‘The Joker’ (listen here, Real Media style). Eeeek!! Lettuce pray that the FBS and Damon Albarn pairing fairs better.

– Stop me if you heard this one before: A bear walks into a hospital…

– The wonderful thing about Tiggers is Tiggers have the best lawyers.

– I heard about people living out of their cars, but this is juss too f-in recockulus.

– Weezer dump Rick Rubin-produced tracks and go back to school, literally.

– JibJab.com vs. Woody Guthrie’s peoples. If you can’t beat em, at least take a percentage of the profits.

– Barbie has a last name, and it’s not Queue.

– Dem cartoon bunnies are at it again. This time it’s Jaws in 30 seconds.

– And here at Thighs Wide Shut, we aim to make you crap yer pants laughing, not make you cry yer eyes out. All apologies to my CityRagDoll. But if we happen to make you all wet and juicy, please email us, or at least send us cookies!!

– Meat the cast of The Real World Philly. Here’s my forecast for the upcoming season: Willie (the gay Puerto Rican) dominates most of the storylines, I bet Shavonda accuses MJ of being a racist at some point, Melanie won’t shave her bush the entire time, and Sarah will be the next Mrs. Thigh Master cause she is most attracted to bad boys who are witty, independent, athletic and a challenge. Does masturbating count as athletic? I hear it’s going to be an eggzibition game at the next Olympics…

– Did a Transformers comic predict the terrible events of 9/11? [via MuseZam of Hoaxes]

– This is the most amazing dog you’ll ever see.

– John Lennon said ‘give peace a chance’, but I don’t think he’d ever say give Converse’s peace shoes a chance.

– Lohan, stop trying to make me jealous.

– This blog celebrates the last-place finishes at the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens. Because they’re there, and you’re not. At least someone is enjoying these games. Wake me up for the first luge event in Torino.

– John Kerry to appear on The Daily Show tonight. Somewhere Ted Koppel is throwing darts at a picture of Jon Stewart.

– Graham Norton is having such a gay olde thyme in NYC, that he’s in no hurry to return to Britain. Can you blame him? The pizza over there blows more than Linda Lovelace.

– ESPN is slowly turning into MTV. The latest piece of crap their peddling is a drama series about Vega$ called Tilt. It’s being written and directed by the team behind Rounders. Why don’t they take that money and re-hire Craig Kiljoy.

-Buy this UTZ Zippo lighter for me and I’ll be yer best friend.

– The Beastie Boys are playing MSG on October 9th. Tickets go on sale this Friday, but there’ll be a pre-sale tomorrow AM @ 10 AM. The password is ‘trouble’.

– The first night’s line-up of the first annual New York Jewish Music & Heritage Festival sounds quite interesting: Neil Sedaka performs Irving Berlin & Sedaka, Lisa Loeb & Jill Sobule perform Simon & Garfunkel, David Broza performs Carole King, and Philip Glass performs… Philip Glass.

– Sahara Hotnights are on the road again. They take a Brooklyn pitstop on September 13th at the fab venue Southpaw. Also, Sondre Lerche drops by on October 19th.

– The New York Dolls are going to release a new album. No word on a “Hot, Hot, Hot” remix…

– You didn’t demand it, but here are some more pimp costumes.

– Double boo-urns: Wayans Bros to make a Munster movie (can’t they think of an idea of their own?) and Ellen DeFishTaco is going to star as Gawd in a remake of Oh, God!. I should just do everyone a favor and add these two to the Slit Yer Eyes Out list now.

– And when I think of a county fair, smelly animals, obscenely large watermelons, and rigidity rides come to mind. But apparently Pemberville, Ohio’s fair is like none other. They have a gross-out contest where people stick their heads into a toilet bowl full of chicken gizzards, chicken necks, water, Worcestershire sauce and corn and whoever pulls out the most meat, wins.

Pee es – The long list of albums eligible for this year’s Shortlist Music Prize has been announced. In me opinion, they should just narrow down the field to The FF Archdukes, The Streets, Air, Travis, and Neil Young.

AVP: Alien vs Predator

Save Yer $10, I’ll Slit Yer Eyes Out For Free!!

Alien vs Predator. More like Boring-Lame-O Humans Spelunking, While Occasionally Some Aliens Fight Some Predators And Stuff. When us people go to see a movie with initials in it (A.I., V.I. Warshawski, D.A.R.Y.L.) we expect to be entertained, and not have our intelligences raped, gawddangsit!!! Who wants to watch people search for artifacts for 45 minutes, when these characters should have been killed in the first 10 minutes and allow the real “stars” of the movie to rip the lungs off of each other for the next 80 minutes? Sure, a lot of humans do eventually get Sgt slaughtered, but things get so recockulus that a surviving woman befriends a Predator and they team up to take down some Aliens. I was just waiting for the Odd Couple theme song to chime in. YIIIIIIIKES this was truly whoreriffic. I wasn’t eggspecting Kramer vs Kramer here folks, but at least something resembling a movie!! Writer/Director Paul W.S. Anderson needs to stop playing Halo and take at least one screenwriting class. Or maybe he should have just opened a pad of Mad Libs and where it says name, enter “Alien” or “Predator”, and for the verbs, drop a “slash” or “mutilate” and then we’dabeen cooking!! This now makes two P.W. Andersons on my movie jihad list. One’s way over-pretentious (raining frogs?) and the other is a shlockmiester who wouldn’t know a good script from bad, even if Charlie Kaufman diarrheaed Being John Malkovich on his forehead. But with all wet dumps, there has to be light at the end of the wipe. And the only positive thing I could think of is that Lance Henriksen received a paycheck. You can’t say the same thing of Ilan Mitchell-Smith, who played dear ole Wyatt in Weird Science. Do you think he keeps in touch with his screen brother, Chet/Bill Paxton?

Anywho, here’s some versus movies me’d like to see be made:

Paul Mitchell vs Vidal Sassoon

Nekkid Lindsay Lohan vs Kirsten Dunst In Pudding

Verse vs Chorus

Pearl Jam’s Ten vs Pearl Jam’s Vs.

Aliens vs Eileen Wuornos

The People vs White Flint Mall

Fred Savage vs Judge Reinhold in Vice Versus

Barry Lyndon

Like Going To The Met For Three Hours, Without The Lines

I made a promise to myself and bygosh, I fulfilled it. Ya see, Stanley Kubrick is the greatest filmmaker of all time (OK, maybe second next to Joel Suckmaker) in my humble opinion. I’ve seen all of his brillyant works over and over and sometimes over that over, but I had never seen his period drama Barry Lyndon, which netted 4 Oscars at the ’76 Academy Awards. My sacred oath was to see it in a theater and thanks to one of the finest museums in New York Sit-Tay, America Museum of the Moving Image, the dream become a reality. I’m not much of a 18th Century English costume drama kind of Thigh Master, but if one person could pull it off and make me go ga-ga for it, it would be the Kubrickster. The man could tackle any genre he attempted: sci-fi, comedy, horror, war, thriller, and even the caper. And after inhaling the 3 hours of beauty that was displayed onscreen, period drama could also be added to that list. I was never bored, as something was always happening and oddly engaging, but I could easily see how some would fall under a coma of malaise. Kubrick was so meticulous in nailing down all of the little details of the era that you don’t feel like yer watching a movie about the late 1700s, but actually living in that time and going to the cinema to watch a movie about modern times. Yes, film hadn’t even been invented back then, but you get the idea. Ryan O’Neal may not have been the ideal choice as the title character, but its the settings, lighting, make-up, costumes, and music (the mise en scène, if you will) that do all the work here. Kubes choose to shoot entirely on location (real castles and the like) and utilize natural lighting. When you see a room illuminated by candlelight, that’s all the lighting used in that scene. For you green film students out there, in order to capture such delicate lighting you need a very special lens and SK was blessed to use a camera lens developed for NASA. This is probably the greatist period drama ever filmed and a muss c classic fo shore… unless yer too saturated with movies that contain sub-machine guns, cells phones, or Ben Affleck.

Dans ma peau aka In My Skin

aka The Worstestest ‘Skin’ Flick Me Have Ever Seen

A woman accidentally scrapes her legs and as time wears on, she becomes overly obsessed with scraping herself even more. If you enjoy watching a woman cut the sheet out of her arm with a steak knife under a table and doing other unwatchable stuff with her skin, then please turn in yer Thighs Wide membership card and move to Russia you sadistic f#%!