One of the subscribers to this blog, we'll call her Nicholas (in favor of keeping her anonymous), is the inspiration for this post. So Nicholas and I talk regularly, and during one of our first conversations I confessed that I enjoy reading, especially books that everyone else praises. Nicholas assumed I must spend a lot of money on books. "No, I just borrow books that people claim I have to read," was my response (read: frugal miser). Nicholas, the eternal student spending the majority of her life in school and recently graduated with a Masters, confessed that she loved reading as well, and the following dialog transpired (to the best of my recollection):
Nicholas: Do you do the Barnes & Noble policy?
S.A.: Yeah, in the past I've bought books there, but I prefer Borders. They send me more junk mail and coupons.
Nicholas: No. Barnes & Noble has a 7 day return policy [often overlooked]. So you buy a book and have 7 days to return the book to put the credit toward another book. No questions asked. So you buy a book once, and you essentially have access to every title.
S.A.: This works? They never give you they eye?
Nicholas: Works every time. Maybe it's because I'm a girl.
At that moment I knew what it felt like to find the Rosetta Stone. It's like I had been living years in the darkness, and then Nicholas showed me the light. I immediately had a soul mate, a girl who was literate, aware of details posted on the back of the receipts, and a student for her entire life.
Don't kid yourselves, we are living through a Depression. Nicholas and I just saved the three of you (readers) mucho dinero and provided you with hours of entertainment, so now you can have a break from your pedantic lives and enhance it with some culture. You're welcome!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
His & Hers
So you've watched Ryan Seacrest usher in the New Year, vowed to never smoke again, committed to your new gym routine, and this will be the year that you convince someone of the opposite (or same) sex that it was your ex that was all sorts of Tom Cruise crazy. Do yourself a favor and heed the S.A.'s advice.
Girls: No guy ever slept with you because you had a Chanel bag. He would actually prefer if you had a knock-off from Canal Street because then he wouldn't think you were such a money grubbing wench. He spends enough money on beer at the bar and he isn't ready to make contributions to your purse and shoe collection. At least have the decency to lie to him and tell him it's fake.
Guys: She is not impressed that you have the high score in Dungeons & Dragons, or that you logged more hours playing PS3 than you did sleeping last year. She really isn't stoked that you dominated your fantasy football league. Her thought is, if you want to play with yourself then enjoy playing with yourself because you seem to be good at it.
Girls: No guy ever slept with you because you had a Chanel bag. He would actually prefer if you had a knock-off from Canal Street because then he wouldn't think you were such a money grubbing wench. He spends enough money on beer at the bar and he isn't ready to make contributions to your purse and shoe collection. At least have the decency to lie to him and tell him it's fake.
Guys: She is not impressed that you have the high score in Dungeons & Dragons, or that you logged more hours playing PS3 than you did sleeping last year. She really isn't stoked that you dominated your fantasy football league. Her thought is, if you want to play with yourself then enjoy playing with yourself because you seem to be good at it.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Fresh Prince
Fact: Will Smith is a blockbuster movie star. However, for the life of me, I can't recall one great movie that he's starred in, save Wild Wild West. His earning power is not being called into question here and it's certainly unparalleled in the industry. The S.A. recognizes that Will Smith movies tend to gross billions of dollars the world over. So the S.A. has embarked on a journey to explain the driving force behind blockbuster movies that suck something awful starring Will Smith.
The S.A. is not a correspondent for Inside Edition or Hard Copy, but thinks this phenomenon can be simply explained in the context of the economics of the movie industry.
Picture this: the S.A. is a really powerful movie executive, and he wants to put out a movie that will ensure his great grandchildren will never have to work again. He orchestrates the creation of a movie with an uber-leading man/star in mind. The script is scrawled down. The premise could be deeply enthralling if the right actors are on board. I have this epiphany that I really could care less about the artistic integrity of the movie, because I'm about to get myself Richard Branson rich. I look at the film's budget of $55 million and devote $30 million dollars to the Fresh Prince. That leaves me with approximately $25 million left to spend. I realistically couldn't even go out and sign Macauley Culkin, Corey Feldman, and Paul Reisner for that type of money (keep in mind it's been years, arrests, drug addictions, marriages and subsequent divorces since they've been relevant in the industry). So we scratch the idea of telling a story with decent actors, a real character development plot. Instead I decide that we only have the money to have Will Smith and $10 million allocated to really insane CGI, like some friggin' aliens or mutants or something completely unmotivated like that.
The movie comes out, it's a real piece of garbage, but every white girl, that loves Will Smith's whitewashed persona, goes and drags everyone they know to the theaters. Now I've bought my own island and I'm laughing at everyone that went to see my blockbuster. I'm loving that I've sold out to become a bajillionare. Thanks Big Willy Style (my own personal ATM).
Note: S.A. is insanely jealous of Will Smith, that's why he's such a hater.
The S.A. is not a correspondent for Inside Edition or Hard Copy, but thinks this phenomenon can be simply explained in the context of the economics of the movie industry.
Picture this: the S.A. is a really powerful movie executive, and he wants to put out a movie that will ensure his great grandchildren will never have to work again. He orchestrates the creation of a movie with an uber-leading man/star in mind. The script is scrawled down. The premise could be deeply enthralling if the right actors are on board. I have this epiphany that I really could care less about the artistic integrity of the movie, because I'm about to get myself Richard Branson rich. I look at the film's budget of $55 million and devote $30 million dollars to the Fresh Prince. That leaves me with approximately $25 million left to spend. I realistically couldn't even go out and sign Macauley Culkin, Corey Feldman, and Paul Reisner for that type of money (keep in mind it's been years, arrests, drug addictions, marriages and subsequent divorces since they've been relevant in the industry). So we scratch the idea of telling a story with decent actors, a real character development plot. Instead I decide that we only have the money to have Will Smith and $10 million allocated to really insane CGI, like some friggin' aliens or mutants or something completely unmotivated like that.
The movie comes out, it's a real piece of garbage, but every white girl, that loves Will Smith's whitewashed persona, goes and drags everyone they know to the theaters. Now I've bought my own island and I'm laughing at everyone that went to see my blockbuster. I'm loving that I've sold out to become a bajillionare. Thanks Big Willy Style (my own personal ATM).
Note: S.A. is insanely jealous of Will Smith, that's why he's such a hater.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Child's Play
Setting: Hot summer day in Bay Ridge - Brooklyn, at the Fort Hamilton High School Park, during 2007. The S.A. is "running game" on the basketball courts, and is witness to the following:
A young boy is a spider-monkey-in-training performing countless feats of strength on the Jungle Gym. [Mr. Softee's signature jingle rouses all of the children in the park causing a dispersion and a mad scramble to muster $2.50, which in many cases meant the children nagging their parents.]
Spider Monkey: Mommy, can I have some ice cream?
Mother: The Ice Cream Man only plays that song when he's out of ice cream. Besides, I brought you carrots and a juice box. [Spider monkey drops his head in disappointment, and is puzzled to see other children grinning ear to ear while indulging in a Sponge Bob Square Pants pop.]
Truth be told, the S.A. was paying attention and considers this a brilliant move (albeit terribly cruel). He has filed it away and will consider unveiling this tactic when he needs to outwit his future spawn.
A young boy is a spider-monkey-in-training performing countless feats of strength on the Jungle Gym. [Mr. Softee's signature jingle rouses all of the children in the park causing a dispersion and a mad scramble to muster $2.50, which in many cases meant the children nagging their parents.]
Spider Monkey: Mommy, can I have some ice cream?
Mother: The Ice Cream Man only plays that song when he's out of ice cream. Besides, I brought you carrots and a juice box. [Spider monkey drops his head in disappointment, and is puzzled to see other children grinning ear to ear while indulging in a Sponge Bob Square Pants pop.]
Truth be told, the S.A. was paying attention and considers this a brilliant move (albeit terribly cruel). He has filed it away and will consider unveiling this tactic when he needs to outwit his future spawn.
Friday, January 2, 2009
True Friend
"Just finished watching judgement night, de la soul, fallen, you f*cking hairy f*ck." -Brendan, Wed., Dec. 31, 1:44 AM; currently engaged, unemployed, and resides in small town, CT.
"Either / Or"
"Either / Or" is a weekly segment devoted to the comparison of "things." For example, Coke or Pepsi? Then the author of S.A. will prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, why he never chooses incorrectly.
This week's "Either / Or" is centered around which group/band is best suited for an altered state of mind. Either Bob Marley and the Wailers or Pink Floyd?
While Floyd's place in stoner history is undeniable with the Dark Side of the Moon & Wizard of Oz synchronization, very few artists have been so convincing while advocating for an illegal substance as Marley. Marley was a constant champion of the benefits of things that came naturally from the earth; among other movements political and otherwise(score one for the good guys). We, here at S.A., would be remiss if we didn't recognize Marley as one of the most influential artists in crossing Reggae over into the mainstream while simultaneously boosting the sales of Funyuns in towns across the country. While Marley has been dead for some time, his music and affinity for herbal remedy lives on in each lyric. Besides, every time I hear "Get Up, Stand Up" or "No Woman, No Cry" it feels like I'm immediately transported to Jamaica. Where in Jamaica, you ask? Uh, you know, by the beach.
Recap: Marley edges Floyd out by a sloppily made peanut butter and fluff sandwich in 9 out of 10 dorm rooms in the continental U.S.
This week's "Either / Or" is centered around which group/band is best suited for an altered state of mind. Either Bob Marley and the Wailers or Pink Floyd?
While Floyd's place in stoner history is undeniable with the Dark Side of the Moon & Wizard of Oz synchronization, very few artists have been so convincing while advocating for an illegal substance as Marley. Marley was a constant champion of the benefits of things that came naturally from the earth; among other movements political and otherwise(score one for the good guys). We, here at S.A., would be remiss if we didn't recognize Marley as one of the most influential artists in crossing Reggae over into the mainstream while simultaneously boosting the sales of Funyuns in towns across the country. While Marley has been dead for some time, his music and affinity for herbal remedy lives on in each lyric. Besides, every time I hear "Get Up, Stand Up" or "No Woman, No Cry" it feels like I'm immediately transported to Jamaica. Where in Jamaica, you ask? Uh, you know, by the beach.
Recap: Marley edges Floyd out by a sloppily made peanut butter and fluff sandwich in 9 out of 10 dorm rooms in the continental U.S.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Yellow Fever
It's the first day of 2009. I've been conscious since approximately 8:50 AM, battling my body as it exacts revenge on me for guzzling countless fluid ounces of LaBatt Blue Lite (Happy New Year). I've already made a visit to Dunkin' Donuts and the Asian fruit stand across the street. In an attempt to keep my eyes shielded from any direct sunlight and keep my migraine at bay by staying secluded in my apartment all day, I've made a conscious decision to devote my day to movies.
I just watched one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time and I bet you have never heard of it. Ping Pong Playa is the funniest cultural comedy since Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood. Ok, not really, because Don't Be a Menace was a parody. Ping Pong Playa is the new My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Substitute lamb for ping pong and you've got comedic brilliance in cinematic form.
A young man, Chris (C-Dub) Wang, shunned his Chinese heritage in the name of "keeping it real" only to return to his roots and find his own identity as he wins the Golden Cock Ping Pong Tournament. Jessica Yu and Jimmy Tsai team up to make this hysterical cultural satire. Knowing that these two people exist and have made a movie like this makes me want to either: a) consider not taking Excedrin for this massive migraine as a form of self-inflicted punishment for not being the person that created Ping Pong Playa, or b) pretend like these two geniuses never existed, so that I might be able to sleep at night knowing nobody on the face of the earth is smarter than me and could possibly have made this film.
I'm putting everyone on notice. This blog will serve as the "tipping point" for Ping Pong Playa and Jessica Yu and Jimmy Tsai will no longer be able to ignore our influence and be forced to thank me and the three of you, that read this blog, personally for starting the Ping Pong Playa epidemic. Get on the China Express and go see this movie or at least grab a pirated version from the internetz.
I just watched one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time and I bet you have never heard of it. Ping Pong Playa is the funniest cultural comedy since Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood. Ok, not really, because Don't Be a Menace was a parody. Ping Pong Playa is the new My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Substitute lamb for ping pong and you've got comedic brilliance in cinematic form.
A young man, Chris (C-Dub) Wang, shunned his Chinese heritage in the name of "keeping it real" only to return to his roots and find his own identity as he wins the Golden Cock Ping Pong Tournament. Jessica Yu and Jimmy Tsai team up to make this hysterical cultural satire. Knowing that these two people exist and have made a movie like this makes me want to either: a) consider not taking Excedrin for this massive migraine as a form of self-inflicted punishment for not being the person that created Ping Pong Playa, or b) pretend like these two geniuses never existed, so that I might be able to sleep at night knowing nobody on the face of the earth is smarter than me and could possibly have made this film.
I'm putting everyone on notice. This blog will serve as the "tipping point" for Ping Pong Playa and Jessica Yu and Jimmy Tsai will no longer be able to ignore our influence and be forced to thank me and the three of you, that read this blog, personally for starting the Ping Pong Playa epidemic. Get on the China Express and go see this movie or at least grab a pirated version from the internetz.
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