the nomness

Slash is a funny mistress.

Now do you see what I did there? I was both being funny and also deadly serious (and yes I am still ROLLING with this show). Personal tendencies aside, boys interested in other boys is kind of ok in my book. As long as one of them isn’t my boy then we’re all fine. Although….right, nevermind, staying focused. RIGHT.

Effbit was at the gym last week because she occasionally has bouts of spastic mental behavior (I mean, jesus, what other reason can there be?), and I don’t want to be rude and point & laugh at the Irish trying to run (in training for the bar marathon perhaps), but sometimes it needs to be done. When I’m not in town I can typically get this business taken care of via text, and I quite often take advantage of this mobile slag device to stay up to speed. Last week I was thrown for a wee loop when Effbit texted a song and video premise. DURING GYM TIME. Honestly, I can barely breathe when I’m running let alone text, but our Effbit’s got spirit (how about you?). She wrote, and I quote, “GODDAMN IT. DRAMARAMA ANYTHING HOUSE AND WILSON.” My first thought was to immediately kick in with the “seriously, what’s with the yelling, I can hear you fine from here ya british piece of crap.” Then I realized I really am all about the Brits lately and I’d only be harming any future opportunities I may have to bone one. I decided to respond with the far more appropriate, “HOLY SHIT. This might happen today. I’m starting in 1hr.” We’re both rather loquacious texty bitches, what.

It takes a while to prep video when you are easily sidetracked looking at fucking beautiful men making goo goo eyes at one another but we persevered and now, in honor of the Season 5 release of House on DVD, we offer our third video. It’s way better than the others, and I still really REALLY like that Boss Snape one. Like, really. It makes me laugh, and I don’t care how corny it is to still laugh at your own work. This video doesn’t make me laugh; instead, it makes me think naughty things about Hugh Laurie. But then again, what doesn’t… To be fair, I could make a case for House pulling goo goo eyes with any number of people of both genders, and that’s perfectly fine by me.

Classic monster movies are the greatest. Maybe not on the scary front, but on the AWESOME!!!1!!1! front, and in that vein The Wolfman is out February 2010. It’s a fair guess that if you’ll nom anyone in this film it’ll be Benicio, but my ears are glued to Anthony Hopkins. Always have been, always will be. I know I tend to crush older but christ, 71 is getting pretty ridiculous. Only problem is….the pretty part. Because he is. I’m the twisted sod who saw The Silence Of The Lambs three times in the theater and got the jumpy tum every single time. Buffalo Bill was a creepy motherfucker and that was one of the SCARIEST scary movies I’ve ever seen, but it still couldn’t kill the Lecter nom. The character may have became a camp joke in later novels and even more so in the subsequent films, but SOTL is perfection and feeds my constant enthusiasm for a new Hopkins movie. Even when he looks like a twisted Orson Welles (and there’ll be words about Orson’s nomness sometime soon).

Because once upon a long while ago, he looked like this:

I feel I should post just this one screengrab and have that say it all for my review of Local Hero. It’s certainly the impetus for finding the film in the first place, although it’s not the only thing I came away with. The face Oldsen pulls, softly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he’s watching Marina walk away for the first time, almost reigns me in from wanting to jump his awkward flailing bones. Almost.

Then of course, I gather myself and envision this fantasy.

I want more please, kthxbai. Now I’m going to have to get into Doctor Who, and Torchwood, and…what else…Fortysomething again? I predict a vicious Laurie-Capaldi circle in my immediate future, and I’m kinda ok with that.

I am so excited to see this film that I squee.  Audibly.  To the great distress of my cat, or sometimes the unfortunate person I am talking to on the phone.  This morning it was my aunt.

Why this film is applicable to this site goes without saying, ob……..(wait for it)…..viously.  THIS should be amazing visually (heh) and the story is actually a good one.  The casting directors are now on my Christmas card list, and I will think fondly of them in my evening prayers (or would if I still did that.  I may once this week just for Irene Lamb and Maureen Webb.  Thank you, ladies.)

I found a pic of Johnny's bum that I was considering putting here, but it made me feel dirty, like looking at someone I know. Weird, huh.

I think I’ve voiced my Johnny Depp stance before, but just in case I haven’t, or in case you’ve missed it, I LOVE the man.  I do not lust after him post Sweeney Todd Premiere.  Laymee and I attended the afterparty and he held the door for me as I was going out for a cigarette when I discovered, to my great dismay, that in heels, I am considerably taller than him.  He is SO fucking talented that I WANT to lust after him.  But height aside, I cannot.  I find him pretty.  In the way that I find one of my cousins pretty.  And that kind of eeks me.  So, Johnny, if you’re out there, let’s go for a pint.  Or a glass of wine.  It’s not you, it’s me.  I hope that we can be friends.  I think that you and I could have a very good, late night discussion about what we consider to be very important worldly things over a copious amount of alcohol.

Jude, you're lovely. And I don't even normally like blondes. Way to be hot.

Jude Law.  Hello, you.  I don’t know why, but I DO find myself attracted to you.  In a frantic last minute shopping trip some 4 or 5 years ago Christmas Eve or somewhere there abouts, I very nearly knocked you over while you were queuing in FAO Schwartz.  Sorry about that. I may have cursed at you.  You have children, I’m sure you understand.  Up to that point I really didn’t think much about you when I’d watch your films, but there was something about the way you saved the Steif frog/monkey/bear/whatever it was I was carrying from being trampled in the Christmas rush that just begged for me to fancy you, at least a little.  So I did.  And I do.

You have earned your place in The Hall of Nom, Heath. Cheers.

Heath Ledger, I’m not going to get sappy on you here, but damn, you were a fine bit of stuff.  And EXTRAORDINARILY talented.  I refuse to get maudlin, but hats off to you, babes.  Will go see whatever is released posthumously.  I am happy to throw my $12 into the kitty if only for you.

Dia duit ar maidin, Colin. How's about some coffee?

Ooooooooooh, Colin Farrell.  We’ve had a love/hate relationship haven’t we?  Cell Phone?  Or whatever that shit was?  ORLY?  Let’s not.  Gentle readers, let me give you a little insight on the Irish. We can be a nation of begrudgers.  Amongst ourselves, we will not acknowledge the successes of fellow countryman.  In Dublin, you could have half the cast of Fair City in the M&S on Grafton and the Dubs won’t bat an eyelash. (nor should they – I seriously saw that one chick…her name escapes me, but she’s a real smug bitch in interviews, anyway, but she was looking around waiting to be recognised.  My wouldbe MIL has seen the same.  Blech.)  Mention one of our own if you are NOT from Ireland, though, and boy, you have called the wrath of “what the fuck has your country REALLY contributed to the world of the arts ANYWAY” upon you so fast that you won’t even notice we’re going below the belt with attacks on your imperialistic histories and your arrogant attitudes without really having any true identities of your own – trust me, I’ve seen it happen.

Anyway, getting back on point, Colin, I’ve been very proud of you, of late.  You are blessed in the physical nom, that’s granted.  Dunno what it is, but I’ve always gone a little dreamy eyed at you.  Wouldn’t admit it, though, around all audiences, no sir.  I’m impressed with your more recent work and am hoping that you keep along this vein! Apparently, staying on the straight and narrow suits.  Also, should the rumours be true, congrats on your second bun in the oven? (Don’t mind me over here lusting over 2 time babydaddy…it’s what I do.  Men and babies kinda do it for me for some reason.  Blame my ovaries)

I saw In The Loop over the weekend and I’m already dying for an extended 2-disc Blu-Ray release. In a useless attempt to avoid my mind’s oversaturation of this beautiful, beautiful character, I am instead choosing to focus on Peter Capaldi’s body of work. Heh. Local Hero arrives tomorrow, I’ve already bought the soundtrack, and quite frankly I’m looking forward to what I’ve read is one of the most charming films to come out of the 80’s. Not to mention a sweet young 20-something Capaldi in all his awkwardly running glory. Christ I love that man’s run. And hair. But not the sweet floppy young hair. The venomous grey cut. Effbit’s been on about the rpattz hair for a while now, but I think I finally understand how it’s possible to want to fuck follicles.

So here it is – the one bit of video I will let myself watch before this movie comes out on disc. I can think of five scenes just off the top of my head that I want to watch into the ground and I’m crafty enough to find this film out there somewhere, but I am restraining. If this montage doesn’t make you run right out to see this film, well then God, Jed, I don’t even want to know you.

Long in the works, we now present the second Nomness video, inspired either by Bella’s inability to believe anyone actually wants to have anything to do with her *or* by Kristen Stewart’s jonesing for another fix.  You be the judge.

Oh Jesus. I just saw two episodes of The Thick Of It, a BBC comedy from a few years back upon which the film In The Loop is based, and I’m dying. First off, the show is brilliant. I know I want to see the film but right now I just want to watch all of the original series plus two specials. Evidently there is a second series being hashed out this year? Whatever, get it done now because I need to watch it yesterday.

The basic setting is Number 10 Downing and it’s a sort of British West Wing, focusing more on the staffers than the PM. The role of Director of Communications (my beloved Toby, now called Malcolm Tucker) is here played by Peter Capaldi, whose filthy Scottish tongue curls around the most decadent obscenities I’ve heard since Swearingen passed those stones. God DAMN the man can curse, and that’s been a thing for me since I was in the third grade. I specifically recognized him from Fortysomething (when I mainline a nom, I do NOT fuck around) but I know I’ve seen him in other things and damn if he isn’t just a year older than Mr. Laurie. And damnDAMN but when his character flies off the fucking handle he is retardedly sexy. He can even pull off the raging quiet-but-you-know-he’d-rather-be-ripping-your-eyes-out smile, and that’s when you’re dragged into some side departmental closet to be ripped clean through. Oh, sorry…got to dreaming a bit there…

Working in conjunction with Tucker is Press Officer Jamie MacDonald, played by Paul Higgins. Impossibly more foul-mouthed than Tucker, or at least somewhat more creatively so, he has even more of the eminent threat of violence when he rages. And again, the accent. And I am NOT usually one for the Scottish accent but daaaamn it works well here. And these two together? Christ.

Britcom nerdalert – the potential recipient of the iCock is Chris Addison, one third responsible for The Department, a program I’m only aware of after obsessing over John Oliver for a good long while, but one that hasn’t left mypod since. Oliver co-wrote most of The Department with Andy Zaltzman, his partner and cohort on The Bugle, a weekly podcast you should damn well be listening to. With headphones. Because I WILL cop to getting the warm and tinglies to an English accent all the damn day long, even if they are literally reading the news and giggling like schoolboys. And occasionally busting a 90s rap. Truthfully, the fact that the show is incredibly funny is a bonus.

Ok, gotta get back to work and seeking out the episodes I haven’t seen because I’ll be damned if I’m letting In The Loop leave the theaters unseen.

I’m briefly popping my head up from editing this next behemoth to share the sweetest countdown to the Season 6 House premiere that I’ve ever seen. Nevermind that it’s the only one I’ve ever seen. I have a feeling that, short of video of Hugh Laurie counting backwards, this one will take the prize (that does not actually exist) (damndamn). Anyhoo, nature calls (nature being FCP), so enjoy. Sadly, this tab will probably be open on my screen for the next month and a half. Less sadly is the fact that I’m so making a House vid next.

would love to hear the Teardrop heartbeats behind it

This week’s memes included:

When fanfiction meets safari, you get "Jungle Cullens" (please sing to the tune of "Jungle Boogie" and add the "ooooooh ah oooooo ah" after. (use of "get down get down" optional)

My own personal Twi-nom goes – Rob, Jackson, Peter, Kellan, Taylor, and the various boys from there.  If I feel compelled to let my mind wander, Jasper often finds himself lost in that big ‘ole house and wanders into an awkward situation with Edward and Bella.  My stories are always so much more detailed than Ms. Meyer’s.

Bitchface goes blonde again post-"The Runaways"

I believe this one is self-explanatory.  Kstew, for the uninitiated, is dubbed Bitchface, for what seems to me, obvious reasons, but for those who are a little more sensitive (and really why would they read this blog anyway) one actually has to HUNT for a picture where this girl looks happy/grateful for what she has/involved in what’s happening around her/or just not a bitch.  I often have to pull her actual name out of the dark recesses of my mind because I honestly cannot remember anything other than “Bitchface.”

And finally, the title track of today’s post:

I was going to think of an applicable caption, but we've titled this file "Jazz Hands" and I think we'll just leave it at that.

*nonsense images courtesy of Awkward Family Photos

And I have an interwebz addiction to Ravelry. In the forums of Ravely, there is a group. And this group of ladies are FUNneh. And smart. And web-ninjas. They feed my closeted (less so than before), inexplicable Twilight addiction. Thankfully, however, they are also clever enough to mock the shit out of it because it is SILLY (and I’m so ok with silly) for women, adult women, to swoon over this story. And the subsequent films – nomable men or no. (please reference our bloglist for another silly site who shares my view on the subject)

I bring you. Genius.