August 14, 2011 § 4 Comments
8:44 PM: Sitting down to watch The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward someone or another. Mariah has a fucking vat of wine in front of her, Diddy is trying to do a writing assignment to get a job from moveon.org, and I’ve got a keyboard in one hand and a fastball special in the other. It’s a drink, don’t worry.
8:49 PM: Didi: “You’re doing it wrong — don’t drink out of that tall mug.”
Me: “But… but it’s in there!”
8:55 PM: I apologize for misrepresenting the movie on facebook — I’m sure The Assassination of Jesse James by Howard the Duck is a plenty good movie. For example, it has Brad Pitt blinking a lot.
I’m sure everyone is very curious as to what a Fastball Special is. I just took another swig and it’s fucking vile. To appease your curiosity, I will reveal the ingredients one by one.
8:56 PM: Mariah: “Isn’t it sad how Ben Affleck’s Little Brother (note: legal given name) is a 500 times better actor than he’ll ever be?” She should know. Her family rode with the Jameses [that’s actually a true story as far as I know]
9:05 PM: Twelve minutes into the movie, we have official proof — Jesse James was a black bloc anarchist. Mariah now wants to be a bandit. And she wants another tattoo. Didi, on the other hand, made biscotti. It’s really tasty. These are my housemates.
I dipped the biscotti in my fastball special and it didn’t make it any less disgusting. First ingredient of fastball special, while Jesse James looks to be robbing a train whose interior is all the color of sepia: vodka.
9:08 PM: — Seven minutes ago —
Me: “How do you spell biscotti? Biscotti?”
Didi: “Blah blah blah biscotti is the plural, the singular is biscoto blah blah blah Italian word of Latin origin, bi-two scotti-people named scott blah blah blah was first enjoyed by Pope Oppenheimer the MLCXVIII as a way to avoid backwash while blah blah blah blah blah blah.”
Me: “Okay, so, uh… no s?”
–Fast forward to now–
Didi: “You forgot the ‘s’ in biscotti.”
Me: “Dammit Didi!”
I write this post as historical record that I was right from the beginning. Also, I edited the previous post to reflect the correct spelling, so that the historical record can show that I was also never wrong.
9:17 PM: Liveblogging half doesn’t work while the people you’re liveblogging about are reading your liveblog. But half works extra awesomely. Mariah still looks to be about four glasses of wine away from officially shnockered. I’m about finished with my first fastball special and wondering if I should switch to something else. It would be very good for my health and safety. But since I’m liveblogging, and this is kind of an occasion, I’m wondering if I should do some research here — test the limits of how much of this a human being can take. Second ingredient of a fastball special: a tall, thin mug (note: tall, thin mug is optional, and apparently faulty).
9:20 PM: You see, we only have two glasses here at Pirate House. One is a wine glass I got when I went wine tasting with my ex-girlfriend and her family in Santa Ynez. Actually, I got 5 wine glasses from the occasion, all the rest of them broke. The other glass Didi got from a thrift store. It is his glass. I resist its use, for I fear its power.
9:25 PM: I broke all the other wine glasses on separate occasions doing the exact same thing: Whilst trying to wash them, I decided it would be a good idea to stick my entire hand, soapy sponge clutched tight, inside the bowl of the glass. And when it shattered, the dishwater made my blood run all the fuck over the place.
So, kind of fun, really.
9:34 PM: Personal bias #1 working against The Assassination of Jessie & James by the Coward Ash Ketchum: Narrators in movies drive me crazy. Just fucking show me the movie. Anything a voiceover has to tell me, either the movie should be able to tell me in its action, or I don’t need to know it. Voicover makes me feel like the characters are just acting out what you’re describing. That is, unless your name is Charlie Kaufman and your movie is called Adaptation. Then, I bow before you, prostrate and enraptured.
Wait, hold on, one of the characters just told a woman she has “well shaped limbs”. This movie is awesome.
9:41 PM: As I pour myself another Fastball Special, Mariah says: “No. NO! Don’t play that game.”
Me: “Oh, I’m playing that game.”
Mariah: “You’re disgusting.”
Final ingredient in the Fastball Special: Maple Syrup. I stole it from an X-Men comic I read the other day. Yeah, it’s named after Colossus throwing Wolverine at things. How awesome is that. Also, I am such a dork.
9:45 PM: Brad Pitt is pulling a little kid’s ear off, so that’s cool. “I think he wants to know where Jim is” — Didi.
9:58 PM: So here’s the good news: I’m all out of both maple syrup and vodka. Bad news: I still have a couple fingers left in my mug. I think I’m just gonna have to down it all at once. If this is the last post for awhile, don’t mind me, I’ll just be getting my stomach pumped down at the local hospital. If you want to come visit me, it’s right next to the home depot. Bring vodka and maple syrup. And tall mugs.
10:00 PM: Mariah: “You guys should start wearing vests.” Me & Didi: No response.
10:03 PM: Sports Night is still the best television show in the history of anything.
10:14 PM: I just caught Didi performing some sort of shamanistic smudging ritual on his laptop. Because the internet wasn’t working. Now planning to start my own cargo cult based on Didi’s laptop. If I spend enough time yelling at it and waving my hands at it, perhaps the gods will bless me with his preternatural knowledge about all subjects, useful and not.
Mariah: “Sounds like there’s a pterodactyl at Johnny’s right now.” Johnny’s is the bar across the street. It’s a shitty metal show, not a pterodactyl, but please don’t tell her that. Except she’s reading this liveblog. Shit.
10:25 PM: Jesse James is killing everything right now. He just tried to shoot fishes. In the face. Reminds me of my old friend Conrad.
PS: For some reason this reminds me — I just saw the mock-up of the new 9/11 memorial, to be unveiled next month. My thoughts? It’ll be all fine and good until somebody decides to fly a plane into it.
Mariah: “DON’T PUT THAT ON YOUR BLOG! NO! NO STEVE!”
10:36 PM: Me: “Didi, I promised critical theory on my facebook post and I don’t have any yet.”
Me: “help me.”
Didi: “Just pick a random book off the shelf and quote it.”
Me: “Okay, give me a number between one and three.”
Didi: “Ok, give me a sec…” turns to the computer.
Me: “Are you pulling up a random number generator on your computer?”
Me: “Dammit Didi!”
10:41 PM: How often we strike someone because we take him for another!
10:50 PM: If anybody’s curious as to how this movie ends, here’s the final scene (Pro tip: The coward did it/hat tip to Mariah):
10:58 PM: Oh my fucking god, it’s actually happening exactly like in the Yogi Bear clip. History is awesome.
11:04 PM: Apparently, that clip doesn’t tell the whole story. A bunch of people then took photographs so that, one day, we would be able to search “jesse james dead” on google image search and be morbidly satisfied with the result.
11:11 PM: How long is this fucking movie? The guy already died.
PS: it’s 11:11. Make a wish and kiss the clock.
11:16 PM: Honestly, the title told me what was going to happen and who was going to do it, then it took two hours and twenty minutes for it to happen, and now we’ve gone another twenty minutes and I can’t figure out why. I was going to keep this liveblog up until the movie ended but now I’m not sure if that’s ever going to happen. Whoever read, thank you for reading. Come visit pirate house — this is what we do on Sundays.