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When communicating like an adult is just out of the question
By Dargus on Tue, Mar 11, 2008 2:46 pm
del.ico.us
reddit!Let's play dress up
By Dargus on Fri, Feb 22, 2008 4:24 pm
http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/02/st-fugmos-fire.html
Best simulated dialogue ever: "Chill, honey-mama, all this arguing is making my face-lace twitch. Let the spawn do her thing and we'll catch her on the flip-side, dig?"
They all look kind of hideously awesome together, but I can only imagine how awkwardly they fit in with the rest of the party.
The Mating Habits of Others
By Dargus on Wed, Dec 12, 2007 1:40 pm
There's someone out there for everyone.
Fire at El Pelon
By Dargus on Thu, Dec 6, 2007 1:02 pm
Fans of fish tacos everywhere will be sad to hear that there was a fire at El Pelon around 2:30am this morning.
We here at the Dig don't know quite what to do. Where are we supposed to send destitute art students now?
This is my friend Dave. I'm sorry.
By Dargus on Wed, Oct 17, 2007 8:25 pm
My friend Dave isn't good with women
By Dargus on Wed, Sep 5, 2007 8:59 pm
http://video.dotcomedy.com/player/?id=152041
enablers
By Dargus on Thu, Aug 23, 2007 10:30 pm
So I think a little finger-wagging shaming may just excite the naughty men of Maxim, but I'll say it nonetheless. Shame on you Maxim! And shame on you Lisa-Marie ... err, I mean Lindsay.
http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2007/08/fug-the-cover-2.html
MUSINGS OF A DRUNKEN MOVIE REVIEWER
By Dargus on Tue, Aug 7, 2007 5:18 pm
I had to go it alone to the latest La Lohan dreck, (although it may say more for my friends that they were unavailable/unwilling to attend). So, I brought liquid reinforcement. Apparently, my sloppy self couldn't get enough, resulting in seven pages of progressively illegible notes. Here are some highlights.
FAIR WARNING: This post does contain SPOILERS of I Know Who Killed Me. However, if you're one who cares, a re-evaluation in taste may be required.
5:20 pm AMC Loew's Boston Common
Twenty minutes into $10 territory. Awesome.
The blood running down stripper pole could have been campy cool.
Seriously, this was the intro to the opening credits, I may have let myself get my hopes up here.
Stories written by high-schoolers should not be read aloud onscreen.
Do you remember Angela Chase's "gingerbread" poem?
Boyfriend is anatomy lab partner. He's feeling her up with gloved hand.
Gross.
"Let's go out there and win this one for Jennifer!"
One student has already been murdered, so this is naturally what's shouted over the loudspeakers at the following football game.
Lindsay has nicotine-stained fingers.
During one of her anti-climatic stripper scenes, Lindsay reaches for a patron's cigarette. It was either a nice touch, for which the makeup department deserves a nod, or a sign that Lindsay went fully method on this one.
Lindsay does have a nice ass.
The cinematographer wants you to think so too.
Oh, oh, there's the Crab Man.
Darnell from "My Name is Earl" is the hospital prosthetic tech.
His kiss will bring her back.
So, Lindsay has at this point, been captured, tortured, and returned home from the hospital. Her evil twin has emerged and nice twin's boyfriend has naturally come to visit. He kisses her in an attempt to jog her memory. However, this is Mr. Suave from before who considers formaldehyde lube.
Amputee sex!
Not really. The frame is small enough that the teenage-boy contingency can still get their rocks off by seeing Lindsay grind minus her dismemberment. However, this is where the movie decides to cash in on the simulated sexual tension. There is intentional comedy infused with the mom being downstairs and able to hear her daughter go at it. Really awkward laughter ensues.
I make a detour to the ladies. Upon returning, I hear not only the title line of the movie, but the entire audience in hysterics. This is where the movie is supposed to be uber-suspenseful, however, everyone is beside themselves.
Killer looks like member of Blue Man Group.
Inexplicably, the killer has an entirely blue face and matching hands.
He kisses mannequin leg.
I prefer a lipstick dance number myself, but this is clearly how the audience is to know the killer's true perversion and amputee fetish.
"I fucking buried you!"
The killer's surprise at seeing Lindsay alive.
Hilarious.
You know, with material this good, I Know Who Killed Me could have gone for camp classic notoriety. However, it took itself way too seriously-as evidenced in the gruesome torture scenes. It's too bad because Lindsay wasn't half bad and it would have given all its panderers a real switch-up.
I left the theater a little after 7:00 pm-wasted. My bottle of Jack drained, I got roped into a bachelorette party bound for where? Oh, Tequila Rain. I wholly blame my employer.
