Katie is in Paris this month, drinking and loving life in the sunny countryside. (Editor’s note: Hey Katie, I hate you.)

Lisa Shapolsky, her apartment sitter/cat-sitter is filling in. Thanks, Lisa!




Sliding Doors

This movie stars Gwyneth Paltrow, Forest Whitaker and a bunch of other people from England. It’s about an alien who crash lands on earth seeking a guy to make lots and lots of babies with before she gets too old and no one wants to sleep with her anymore.

In the climax, Gwyneth (who’s name in the movie is, get this, Gwyneth. Nice job British Hollywood!) finds herself face to face with her own worst nightmare, herself with blonde hair.  I was pretty into it, being bi-polar and knowing what it's like to occasionally hate myself, so I got on the edge of the couch to get closer to the TV for the showdown and the goddamn VCR ate the tape! What the hell!

1 Star
(Movies need endings!)










Dead Ringers

So I watched this while I was ichatting with an old, old friend from this one summer my dad accidentally sent me to bible camp. (My mom thinks he might have made the mistake because he was a little lightheaded from flu medicine for this really bad flu he had that year, but I think he was just plain old, deadbeat style, constant 3 days of stubble having, disinterested in his daughter’s interests as a rule to live by, would rather be outside staring into the sun like a bloated corpse than ask why his daughter can’t stop eating her wax-candles at night, drunk.)

So I’m talking with my friend and she keeps saying how great it is that she found me and she can’t believe we ever stopped being so close and I’m still trying to figure out who exactly she was back at summer camp. Then she says something about wearing this purple bathing suit all summer and I remembered that I hated that bitch! So I told her to drop dead and shut my computer off. I think this movie was about abortions.

2 Stars




Teenwolf

Ok, so listen. One night when there was seemingly nothing on TV, I went ahead and took all those Xanax that I stole from an apartment I was watching for a friend of mine. And it turned out I ate too many! So I threw up a whole bunch and as I crawled back to the living room to sleep under a pile of dirty sweaters, Teenwolf came on TBS. So I don’t really remember a whole lot about this movie. I think I spent at least a half hour trying to decide if a “real” Teen Wolf would have hair all over his dick. Then I remembered I saw my childhood cat and dog playing one day and cleaning each other, and I don’t know if my memory did this to what I saw or if I really saw what I saw, but my cat licked my dogs crotch and his dick emerged from a furry nub. And neither stopped licking! Ew!

I like the way Michael J. Fox’s voice cracks, it makes me think of boys that I can’t really talk to anymore without being afraid of getting in some serious trouble. (They don’t stop being cute, just cause you get older! What the fuck!)

4.5 Stars





Fight Club

I know I’m supposed to write about how this movie holds up or doesn’t hold up to the ravages of time, but to be honest, all I can think of is how much I want to hang out and smoke weed with all the lesser cast members at pivotal points in my personal history. God almighty, even without weed, I wish I had a giant Meatloaf with enormous breasts as my personal Puff the Magic Dragon when I was 7 years old.

He should have been the one to tell me that my parents were getting divorced. If he had said those words in his softly southern, gently crackling voice, instead of a therapist alerting me that my dad was moving out of the house for good, while he stood next to two “Parent Totems”, I mean… (Who, by the way, were just a pair of fucking orderlies in bear costumes which had hints of adult genitalia to emphasize which was supposed to be my mom and which was supposed to be my dad. Yeah, that made things easier on my young mind. I can still hear that Caribbean accent muffled through damp fabric and matted fur telling me that “Daddy will always love you, he just has to go away for a spell.” Fuck therapy. Fuck therapy. Fuck therapy!) Meatloaf would have just held me. God, that man can kind of do no wrong.

And if Marla Singer was there to help me score pills and tell me how much happier I would have been if I had just gone down on my boyfriend’s best friend when he was mean to me instead of crying myself to sleep for two years, I’m sure I’d have better posture. God! The idea of knowing sex was a weapon when I was 15. It’s electric.

Um, the movie holds up?

3 Stars