Wah! I Don't Wanna Work No Mo', Ma! A Movie Detour

Oh, god. The paint fumes have me reduced to thinking that a viewing of Machine-Gun Kelly, a 1958 would-be classic netting six stars on IMDB, starring Charles Bronson, seems like a good idea.

"Without his gun, he was naked yellow!" is the slug line on IMDB. A user comments, "Don't get smart with this hot-head!"

But, really, it's The Wild One, starring a young 1953 Brando, a role credited with introducing the t-shirt to the mass public and starting the greatest fashion trend ever (file that under "useful trivia"), that I wish I had seen from the start. It's just ending. Brando's being led off in his leather jacket with the letters "BRMC" on the back... no doubt where one of my favourite bands gets their name from, The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

Yeah, Brando always was great. Brooding sensitivity like no one's business. Stella! Ya gotta love the classics. Hence why they're called "the classics". Disliking them is not an option. See movie-lovers rule #82. Ahh... Back before writers thought of saving the world from disaster in 97 minutes (like it's just one guy's job to do the save-the-world bit) and conspicuous deus ex machina-ish plots dominated the Hollywood landscape. Back when movies more often than not really were stories first and spectacles second.

Not that todays' movies en masse suck ass, just that there's more of them that suck than not. Why some of these so-called writers get paid for a living and people like me don't (oh, right, they actually go sell themselves. Duly noted) ...does irk me. I mean, even if these idiots sell themselves and have good pitches, you'd think the shit-filters in Hollywood could act a little less like sieves, man.

Awwright, go ahead and show us your Machine-Gun Kelly bravado, Chuckie Bronson. Fuck, he even looked old in 1958! What, was Charles Bronson born with leather skin and grizzled lines? Holy crap! Fifty years ago, man. There's your walking advertisement for sunblock, people. Wow. Charles Bronson then looks like Ian Tracy now. How weird is that? Clearly Chuck had a wild weekend in Canada and Ian Tracy is his illegitimate offspring. (Ian Tracy's a kick-ass Canadian actor who's perfectly content to work in Canadian projects exclusively, much to your great disappointment, my non-Canadian readers.)

Oh, and I'm PISSED that there are some spots to touch up in my bedroom. Geez.

Okay, I'm calm now. :) Back to the fuckin' grind, but I am *not* getting everything done today. Soon, I'm going to call it a day and lie around all slack-like, because I deserve it.