I play Sims (part17)

Rachel just got off work, and it looks like she's nabbed another promotion.  Good job, Rachel!

That's not the only thing that happened at work today. 

Also, you really need to turn around.  That vestibule is spawning creepers today.

I'll bet you're all wondering what's been going on at home - and that you all want to know the same thing: what has that Mysterious Mr. Gnome been up to?  I'm glad you asked.  When he's not showing off doing gnomestands on the deck, he's keeping a very close eye on Stanley's thriving garden.

When Stanley's not in school, tending his garden, or helping out around the house ...

...he spends a bit of his free time on the computer.

Unfortunately, Stanley had invited that weird teenager home after school and promptly began ignoring him, so he just kind of lingered ... until he eventually found his way into the garden to do his homework.

But it's not all work here - Suri's finally having another birthday!  Guess who came to celebrate?

As it turns out, the weird teenager is actually related to Stanley's & Suri's father - so he's their cousin.  Not that this explains even 80% of what's going on with him.

I guess we all know what happens next.  There's only so many rodeos you can attend before ... you know.  Don't look at me, I don't get paid to write this shit.  I may not even be awake right now.

What comes with it?

That sounds great.  Tell me more.

But what about teenage boys, shitting their pants with joy?

But what if I want more sparkles?

Wow, that sounds amaz- why are you choking?

Looks like your weird cousin is disappoint.  He can't ask you to take a romantic homework in the garden with him.  Oh well, cake!

Based on her expression, Suri has jumped into being a teenage girl with both feet and is automatically detesting every word that comes from her mother's mouth.

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to get promoted in the Sims? 

Rachel has been promoted to Chairman of the Board.  She must be over the moon.

Unfortunately, things don't get less strange after Rachel gets home.

Wait for it.

See you in Shang Simla, China.  It wouldn't kill you to pick up some real pajamas while you're there.

I Play Sims (part18)

*Explained in comments*

Black Swan (a.k.a. My Big Night Out)

What's not to like about a "psychosexual thriller" starring an emaciated Natalie Portman and a slightly scuzzy Mila Kunis? Let's explore.

The first thing we're beat over the head with - other than the fact that this film is about a production of the ballet Swan Lake - is how very meek Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) is.  She's a sweet, quiet, hardworking perfectionist, dammit - can't you see?  Yes, we see.  Nina lives with her mother, Erica Sayers (Barbara Hershey) - now, I'm going to need you to hold on to your tuffets here, because I've got news for you: Nina's mother is overprotective and controlling. 

We're also introduced to Lily (Mila Kunis) and she's a spitfire free spirit.  You can't tame her!  She probably doesn't even wash her face before she goes to bed.  Jesus Christ, the very thought.

Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) is the elderly former lead Swan Queen. You never see her dance, although you do get an eyeful of her being an expert drunken scowler.  Nowhere near as skilled as my husband in his bachelor days, but I'm sure she tried very hard.

Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), the ballet director is now casting for a new lead to play both the good sister White Swan and the evil sister Black Swan.  Nina wants the role, but Leroy is reluctant to cast her - he thinks she's perfect for the White Swan, but lacks the reckless, dark abandon necessary to portray the Black Swan - probably due to her lack of giving him blowjobs the first time they meet.  In the end, she wins the role.  How?  Ancient Chinese secret.

Nina is so excited, she almost eats an entire bite of cake.

At a benefit gala, Leroy bids adieu to the aged Beth Macintyre, and introduces the fresh, young Nina as his new Swan Queen. Awkward! While using the facilities and having one of a continuing string of hallucinations, Nina hears a banging at the door.  It's Lily, threatening to urinate all over the place.  You can't take that girl anywhere!

Lily tries to get Nina to hang out with her in the bathroom and kibbutz, but Nina declines.  She has to go stand by herself for long enough for pensioner Beth Macintyre to stumble into her so she can be falsely accused of doling out blowjobs to get the role of the Swan Queen.  Ha!  Before Beth gets the chance to really sharpen her claws, Leroy swoops in and whisks Nina off to his apartment greasy lair. 

What transpires next is what I can only describe as the creepiest dialogue written by a 12-year-old I've ever witnessed.  Before Nina escapes, Leroy gives her homework to prepare herself for the role of the Black Swan: play with your vagina.  I hope you were still gripping your tuffets.  If you actually watch the movie, I suggest gluing your ass into one for the actual scene where she does her homework.  Depending on your personality, it's: a) hot as hell. b) no idea, there's a popcorn tub over my head. c) high-larious. d) life-destroying. e) can't talk, turning into swan.

Nina's not able to enjoy winning the role of the Swan for very long, because not only does she have to shoulder the guilt of crazy old Beth Macintyre throwing herself into traffic the night of the goodbye Beth/hello Nina gala, but now she also has to worry about crazy young Lily breathing down her neck as her understudy bent on stealing her role.  Fuck a duck.  Or don't.

I'm not going to give a detailed play-by-play of the rest of the film, but suffice it to say that it's a juxtaposition of painfully trite dialogue against disturbing hallucinatory imagery with a backdrop of pretty girls performing pretty dance.  It's a lot like going to see Swan Lake after drinking Salvia tea - one minute everything's fine, and you're just cooling out watching Natalie Portman be a ballerina, wishing you had her nose - the next, you're in a Swan Lake meta-nightmare.  Winona Ryder looks like roadkill, Mila Kunis is shoving cheeseburgers and Portman tacos in her face, you can't get away from the mirrors, which are definitely fucking not working right - and well ... I guess I should be grateful this is at least one sanctuary from that damned Soul Sister song it seemed impossible to get away from this past year.

Did I like it, you ask?  Put it to you this way: it's been well over two years since my last "date night" with my husband, and we went to a theater which served hot food and cold drink during the movie.  They could have put almost anything up on that screen and I would have tolerated it. 

Putting all of that aside, I wasn't completely satisfied with the film.  I know the retardedly lame dialogue was supposedly on purpose, to make the chilling parts ice cold or whatever.  But for me, it was too jarring.  By the time something interesting was happening, I was still groaning from lines that seemed to be treating the audience as though they couldn't get from A to B without the plot of Swan Lake being carefully explained, at least thrice throughout the movie.  Listen, I know I was shoveling pickle spears down my gullet like it was my last meal, but that doesn't mean I can't get to the end of the movie without a map. 



  

Even unpaid bloggers need vacations

My sister came to visit - which meant that on top of actually leaving my house (in broad daylight, no less) I didn't have time to do any writing for my blog.  Not so much of a big deal when it comes to having a loud and pointless moan, but when it comes to Sims updates, the larder is dry - so it'll be a little while before I'm able to get another one of those puppies up.

I feel a little silly warning you that I'll be later than usual with my blog homework, considering that I have more fingers than regular readers - plus, according to the pie chart below, 20% of my readership is my sister, and I'm pretty sure she already knew that I was busy.

Whatever.  I just wanted to reassure the few of you who were going to bed every night, shaking your fists in prayer, terrified I might stop writing Sims stories, that the rumors I started are not true.  There will be more Sims updates, once I get caught up on all the other things I couldn't get done while my sister was here.  Like those handwritten letters I send to the orphans who can't afford handwritten letters of their own.  If those things wrote themselves, I'd be done already.  And gosh darnit if those two kids of mine don't bug me to be fed a full three times a day.  What the hell, kids?

While I'm here, making excuses for not getting my unpaid work done, yet not bitching about Katy Perry or food I didn't have to prepare, I just wanted to wish each and every person who regularly, or even occasionally, reads my blog a Happy Valentine's Day in advance - and to ask all of you to be my Valentine.  I even have a card for you:

So whadda you say?

Why, Wendy's?

Since we all know I love bitching about food I don't cook, I have a really big bone to pick with Wendy's about their ever-evolving and continually trying-so-hard-they're-failing-even-harder salads. 

I'm a simple girl.  Give me some fresh mixed greens, tomatoes, chicken, dressing and maybe some croutons and cheese.  That seems pretty straightforward, yes?  Like there would be no way to fuck that up without going out of your way to do something completely insane - like using a bum's nutsack as your mixing bowl and a couple of rancid lobster claws as your salad spoons - but Wendy's has made mucking up a perfectly good salad an art. 

They used to have a halfway decent crispy chicken salad, but they couldn't leave well enough alone - they had to turn it into a BLT grilled chicken salad.  Sure, I could pick out the shredded bacon, but I wasn't fucking happy about it.

Then things started getting strange.  The BLT grilled chicken salad became a BLT Cobb.  This means now on top of pulling out bacon, I'm chasing down bits of cotton-picking blue cheese - and that shit is wiley.  It's just not even worth the trouble anymore.  I might as well make my own salad, and we all know that ain't happening.

So I decided to try their newest incarnation of a Chicken Caesar salad - which, for reasons unexplained, is spicy.  Also, I don't know about you, but every other Caesar salad I've ever had in my entire life has contained parmesan cheese, and only parmesan cheese.  But that's just not wacky enough for Wendy's - they have to use Asiago cheese.  I was willing to give it a shot, even after the odor gave me a good smack across the face when I cracked the container open.  I even tried a bite.  It made me wonder what went down at that focus group when they finally landed on Asiago cheese.  My best guess is that it was something mischievous involving lots of alcohol and some sort of confused, misunderstood joke regarding the play Othello.

As I stood in the kitchen going through the painstaking process of removing every last bit of cheese I could find, my husband spontaneously started checking the children's diapers in the next room.  I exaggerate not, the smell was that funky.

The salad itself wasn't terrible, once the offensive cheese was removed and quarantined, and I wrapped my brain around the inclusion of grape tomatoes (Wendy's, did you even Google Caesar salad?) on top of the sensation of my tongue burning the whole time.

But still, I have to beg of you, Wendy's - please.  Just make some normal fucking salads, would you?  Your Baja Salad (the one smothered in shitty warm chili, guacamole, tortilla chips and pico de gallo) is not simply inedible.  It's a crime.  I'd honestly rather abuse my stomach with a "salad" from Taco Bell.  Did you hear me?  I said Taco Bell!  Blargh!

I'm about to give up on you, Wendy's.