Season of the Sales Pitch

My computer and TV are always inundated with movie ads, as I am sure, yours are as well. Sometimes I go to the movies as a result, and sometimes, I go to the movies without really knowing what I want to see. Then I buy a ticket and watch a movie. A while ago La Flaca and I went and saw Harry Potter 7. In the lobby of the theater was a poster of Nicolas Cage's latest release, Season of the Witch.

I had to stand next to this bigger than life thing while we were waiting to go see the little magic bastard. Anyway, I had a couple thoughts:

1. That can't possibly be Nick Cage's hair.

He's as bald as I am by now, I am sure.

and

2. They MUST STOP NAMING NICOLAS CAGE MOVIES.

Instead, all Nick cage movies must be numbered. For example, instead of going to see Disney's Sorcerer's Apprentice, you would throw your ten bucks down to see Disney's Nicolas Cage film 27. The movies must be numbered from the date of him winning his Leaving Las Vegas Oscar. with only five exceptions:

Astro Boy

G-Force

The Ant Bully

A Christmas Carol and

Adaptation

Since those movies are A) four cartoons, which don't hinge on Nicolas Cage's name being before the title, and B) actually one good movie.

Think of how many people would be saved.

Imagine going to see a movie this holiday season and having no idea what's playing,

"How about Season of the Witch?" your friend asks.

You hum the Donovan song. "OK," you say.

Then you go in the theater; it gets dark. The music starts, and Nicolas Cage's face fills the screen.

"Goddamnit!" At least ten bucks in the old shitter.

I think the Motion Picture Association of America has a much more considerable responsibility than keeping ten-year-old's from seeing nipples. They have the charge of preventing unassuming patrons from mistakenly seeing Nicolas Cage movies. NC17 the hell out of whatever you want, but please, please MPAA, put Nick Cage's name on any movie he stars in from now on. Think of the children.

MMXI, Year of the "Are you shitting me?"

A year ago, I began the decade being bitten on my ass, and that's bad. This year, the bite was in a slightly more tender location.

Disolve to six months ago

FPP celebrates birthday 40. Which is good, as FPP has never been one to cherish the age of ignorance and stupidity. He is, however one who believes, in his psuedo-conscious, that as he gets older, he'll stop doing stupid stuff. FPP is often wrong, and slightly delusional. But anyway, not too worried about becoming an older guy.

So, first thing, on the morning of January 1, 2011, FPP is in line at the West Seattle Safeway, buying a couple bottles of relatively cheap champagne for Mimosas for the Weatherpeople's annual 1/1 recovery brunch. FPP finds the shortest Safeway checkout line and approaches, the woman who is there, putting her groceries on the conveyor-belt-thing, looks up at FPP and says, "Hurry, put them here, put them down." FPP does nothing, but looks kinda confused. Is she gonna pay for his sparkling wine? FPP looks dumb. "Oh, sorry," woman says, "I thought you were my father."

OK. Hold on. This girl could have been 18 or 21, you're saying, making a 40-year-old FPP a possible father, right?

BULLSHIT. She was at least 40, and when the father finally appeared (by this time FPP was in the neighboring line, having no desire to hear any fucking explanations), the guy was like 80. GODDAMIT, really? That guy?

Anyway, another year starts with another bite in the ass, only this time, no trip to the emergency room was required. I'd love to go on, but I have to change my fucking diapers.

Kisses to all, Happy 2011