Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Miami Ninja Style, Bitches!

So a bunch of my students asked pretty please if I could next eviscerate 'Miami Connection,' a movie that I slung onto My List when it popped up not because I'd heard of it, but because the Netflix Instant told me it was about ninjas in a drug ring going up against tae kwon do orphans in a rock band. What the WHAT! Yes, please!

As a quick example, this is something that happens in this movie. Again: YES, PLEASE! So I was, all, grinning and tenting my fingers like Mr. Burns in anticipation of terrorizing 'Miami Connection.' When I started watching it, though, the first thing that popped up on-screen was the Drafthouse logo. I pressed pause, mildly concerned. Drafthouse, as in Alamo Drafthouse, as in the awesome cinema in Austin that supports indie and cult filmmaking (and seriously opposes cell phone use during screenings)? I might have been on the wrong track here.

And, in fact, I was, and so are all the haters. This movie was made by this tae kwon do Grandmaster (RESPECT) who invested every penny he had and cast his students as actors in an extreme act of love for the movies. Even though the stupid thing bankrupted him, because he promised his students they'd get to be in a movie about their sport he made good on his word and fucking barebacked it into completion. Then he was deeply humiliated for like 20 years until Drafthouse gave him the warm fuzzies and snuggled the movie to positive cult status.

I watched the movie, but my evil intent had already fizzled like a deflated balloon. Sure, there was plenty of hilarity, but there was also so much goddamned heart and soul in it that I could not maintain Fully Operational Snark. By the time I got to the scene where one of the orphaned tae kwon do students was bawling his eyes out because of his lost father, I was, like:

Guys, I cannot shit on this movie the way you want me to. First, I would never make fun of a martial arts Grandmaster. I studied under a regular Master and I was so terrified of him that to this day I automatically bow and then snap into my ready stance whenever I see an old Korean man. Make fun of a GRAND Master? DEATH WISH 2014!? No, thanks.

Second, the guy made it his life's goal to make a movie so he and his beloved students could bring the awesome spirit of tae kwon do to the people of the world. OH, COME ON!?!

Yeah, that's what I thought you said.

So I'm going to give Grandmaster Kim his due. He doesn't get off the hook completely, because he did, after all, make an unequivocally terrible movie, and he probably should have gotten some help from some qualified professionals (as opposed to what it appears he did, which is ask the kids hanging out by the Dumpster behind the 7-11 to run production) to at least make it make sense. He DOES, though, get a big fat Get Out of Jail Free card from me as well. I'm not going to rake this bitch straight up over the coals like I would otherwise.

Instead, I'll give Grandmaster Kim the help he should have had from the jump. Every bad movie starts with a bad script, right? So why don't I go through and script doctor this thing for him, and then maybe when he uses his millions that he now has from being a popular motivational speaker to make a sequel, he'll hire me on. Sound about right?

(FYI: All script notation is from the actual script. Deal with it.)

In the beginning a bunch of drug dealers doing a drug deal are beset by a passel of ninjas:

Suddenly, with lighting (sic) speed and tremendous force the Ninja's sword dismembers the gang member's arm. Standing there, with only a stub at the shoulder where an arm used to be, the gang member screams in terror.

Uh, OK, I'm actually fine with that. Moving on:

Twelve Ninjas are in a meditative squat around a Japanease (sic) table. Yashito, the White Ninja, enters the room. Yashito walks to the head of the table, kneels down, and commences to unravel his white cloth face mask.

Where's money. Where's Money!

Yashito slams his fist on the table.

Hm. Maybe this would be just as effective:

Here it is. "Show me the money."
(pause) Show. Me. The. Money.

I got it.

Now doesn't that make you feel good
just to say it? Say it with me.

Show. Me. The. Money.

Oh - oh, wait, hang on. I guess that won't work. We'll have to stick with what we've got.

Dragon Sound plays their opening song: "FRIENDS."  Jeff, Yashito and their gang members have entered the club. Jeff walks by the side of the stage. He does a double take as he recongnizes (sic) his sister, Jane, singing with Dragon Sound. Yashito comes over and points at Jane.

Jeff. Is that your sister Jane working here?

She's not supposed to be here.
I don't know what she's doing here.

Better watch her. Let's go. Come on.

So this is bad, but cannot hold a candle to the lyrics of "FRIENDS," which is a far more egregious slaughtering of the concept of 'writing,' and can be blamed solely on songwriter Lloyd C. Sharpe, not Grandmaster Kim or the mook who wrote this script.

Sample "FRIENDS" lyrics:

Friends through eternity, loyalty, honesty
We'll stay together through thick or thin
Friends forever, we'll be together
We're on top, 'cause we play to win

Now, you guys have to tell me who paid better homage to "FRIENDS." Was it noted lyricist Avril Lavigne (singing here with YOU-KNOW-WHO)?

Or was it Dirk Diggler?

I'll let you decide.

Next, we get to know some of the members of Dragon Sound, the aforementioned orphans who also attend the University of Central Florida.

John and Jane are walking together, arm in arm, down a path.

Jane, I've been wondering about your family.
Do you have any family? I haven't met anyone yet.

Well I have a brother. As a matter of fact,
if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be going to
this nice school and living in this nice dorm
I'm staying in.

That's really nice of him.

Except for one thing. I don't really like him.

What. You don't like your own brother. Why?

Well, I can't really explain it.
I just don't like him.

Finally, something I can work with! Let's clean this up:

Jane, how come I haven't met any of
your family yet?

Because they're all assholes.

Speaking of assholes, the owner of Dragon Sound's club and some guy named Bob get in a fight about the band.

I'll tell you what. Are you deaf?!
You sure don't know how to play.

Deaf my ass.

You got it? I said your (sic) history.

Your (sic) full of shit.

You want to go out of here right now?

A fight ensues.

I'm beginning to doubt my purpose here. That last bit is positively Shakespearean! Remember in Romeo & Juliet when Tybalt and Mercutio have an epic fight to the death after Mercutio basically calls Tybalt out for having a tiny dick? All Shakespeare wrote was 'They fight'! Just like this guy!

Before Dragon Sound's next gig they stop in at Uncle Song's restaurant for some kimchee.

Dragon Sound complements (sic) Uncle Song on his cooking as they hurriedly consume their meal.

Uncle Song, you take great care of us.


You'll have to give Mark the recipe to this.

You take great care of us. We love you.

Jesus, this is killing me. How can I change that dialogue? It feels like Grandmaster Kim was leaning over the writer as he furiously pounded away on his Apple IIe, begging, "Please make sure you say nice things about my uncle's cooking! He took great care of me!" GAGHGHGHGHGH!!!?!!?!!?

Hang on a sec while I troll this script for something I can actually edit.

[At the beach] Tom and Jack come up behind one foxy babe in a bikini.

Excuse me madame. May I have a little kiss,
please? A little kiss, please. Come on.

While Jack encourages the girl to give Tom a kiss, she slaps Tom so hard that he falls over.

Nope, that sounds pretty good to me. I'd slap a guy hard enough to knock his dick in the dirt if he said "Excuse me madame." And following this is a cut scene where Mark (played by Grandmaster Kim, BTW) is watching a lone surfer out in the ocean and talking to the guy who was bawling about his lost father:

Jim, sometimes I wonder who my parents are.
You know, I am from Korea. When I was a baby I was
raised in an orphanage. I don't even know my
real name and my family at all. So I hope one
day we will find your father, for he is like our family.

Don't worry. We're all friends here. One family.

Mark looks back out into the ocean. There the lone surfer continues to wait for his wave.

This is some BULL-SHIT! I thought this script was supposed to suck! It gets worse. After a super-awesome montage of Grandmaster Kim busting some crazy fucking legit tae kwon do moves with his students, they talk about doing a martial arts world tour to promote peace and unity. FUCK ME!??!!? And then, after that, the ninjas eating at Uncle Song's restaurant stiff him with the check and then gang up on him! Luckily, Uncle Song does this:

Uncle Song explodes with an inside swing kick at the head of one of the street punks and follows with a knife hand strike to the neck of another. Uncle Song delivers a side kick with the right foot. Uncle Song then lays in with a left cross to the ribs and finishes off one street punk with a precise hammer fist to the spine.

I love that every single fight move is choreographed to the hilt up in here. And when the orphans congratulate Uncle Song on kicking ass, he cautions them with the wisdom of the ancients:

Tae Kwon Do is not just kicking and punching.

Uncle Song point (sic) to his heart.

Tae Kwon Do is right here.

Uncle Song point (sic) to his head.

...and right here.

This is getting ridiculous. Am I going to have to recant this entire post? After this there's some escalation, both on a character and plot level, more well-choreographed if bizarrely executed fighting, and more loving dialogue from Grandmaster Kim to his students about their health and well-being. Whose dick do I have to suck around here to find some shit to make fun of in this script!?

The escalation rises to the point where Dragon Sound's lead singer is kidnapped and tortured by the ninja gang.

Dragon Sound kills Jane's asshole brother and frees Tom in another bonkers-ally choreographed fight. In wuxia fashion, the White Ninja vows revenge for the death of that asshole. BRING IT! This all sounds fine to me. Even this moment becomes a poetic beat during the falling action of this fourth act:

Dragon Sound is ecstatic about finding Jim's father. Mark, John, Tom, and Jack all lift Jim up onto their shoulders and begin to carry him around in celebration.

You are seriously not prepared for what happens next. After a touching scene where everyone pools their money to buy Jim a nice new suit to impress his dad at their impending reunion, the fucking ninjas cock-block Dragon Sound on their way to the airport. There's a bloodbath and Jim gets gutted by a katana!?

Now, in the movie, they punk out. No wonder everybody thought this was crap. Grandmaster Kim takes the White Ninja out after a gruesome fight, Jim gets all fixed up at the hospital and everybody loves everybody at the end. But in the script, THIS shit goes down (after pages and pages of Jim dying with agonizing slowness):

A plane begins to descend from overhead. John looks up.

Oh no. Jim (sic) father is on that plane.

The airplane is about to land on a runway close by.

John, Jim is dead.

John pauses and then, in a furious rage, he realizes what must be done: Yashito must pay for Jim's death.

We got to get them for this.

Come on!

We are inside John and Mark's thoughts. Each is mentally seeking out Yashito in the Park. John is running through the woods in the Park looking for Yashito. He is carrying a sword. Dissolve to Mark running through the woods with a sword looking for Yashito. Mark is yelling.


And that's the end. Don't tell me that's not hardcore!? Now, neither of those endings are exactly in line with all the positive spiritual rhetoric about tae kwon do that's espoused throughout the script - both end in mayhem and death. But as someone who loves a fucked-up open-ended story, I gotta give this script credit for going there. I officially renounce any position I had whereby I stated that the script for 'Miami Connection' was bad! Never mind, Grandmaster Kim - I'm going to have to keep my day job!

Friday, March 14, 2014

A Critical Analysis of the Costumes in 'Girls Just Want To Have Fun.'

Do you like how proper the title of this movie is?

Some of you might think I'm just being mean by picking on 'GJWTHF,' a gem replete with so many 80s-style hijinks that it should collapse under the weight of Sarah Jessica Parker's unhinged effervescence. But please remember I'm not mean: I'M A FAN, which is why I'm so mean. Why the hell else would I spend so many hours combing the internet for screen grabs of Helen Hunt's barrettes? Hence, 'GJWTHF's inclusion into what will now officially be a recurring post on this blawg: the critical analysis of so many awesome fucking costumes, amazing hair/makeup stylings and moments of costume DRAMA that I should probably instigate a ratings system for it separate from the Nickelback standard.

From now on, costume admiration shall be rewarded with this timeless image of The Bake worshiping Ariel's boots (that her daddy hates). There is no costume as potent as the red cowboy boot.

So the costume designer for 'GJWHF' didn't exactly have a standout career, but who cares, because she did this movie, and that should allow her entrance into Valhalla no matter what (and who the hell am I to throw stones, as I sit on my couch pondering how to hot glue a cat toy onto a banana clip to wear to work tomorrow?). All of those dopey teen/dance/school/love/rebellion movies from the mid-80s smell the same, but this movie stands out in particular because the costumes are off the chain - and I don't mean that they suck, I mean that they're actually creative while also being ludicrous.

We essentially have 2 areas of costume excellence in this movie: daywear and dancewear. The first is best illustrated through Helen Hunt's costumes. As the Wacky Bestie, she spends most of the movie squirming out of her Catholic school uniform and into whatever insanity the costumer decided would be the opposite of a Catholic school uniform. The second is best illustrated through everything that happens on Dance TV, a sensational hybrid of MTV and Soul Train hosted by Richard Blade, whose skinny ties and dulcet tones were an important wedge in the Trivial Pursuit pie of my 80s experience. SJP is the linchpin dancer of this timeless tale. Her costumes mainly revolve around the status of her virginity, as is right and proper for a movie of this ilk. What is the thematic point of all this, you ask? It's to illustrate that in this new age of style and substance, there is a direct connection between sex and spandex. Meaning! I HAZ IT.

And now, as Billy Hixx would say, "Let's rock!"

From the jump we know we're in for something good when all the DTVers get their Casio on by shakin' it in matching tank tops/socks, black miniskirts, Michael Jackson gloves and rad wraparound studded belts. I totally did a dance routine in that matching top/sock combo when I performed in the Junior Miss Pageant, BTW. And no, you can't see video of that, so stop asking.

Wacky Bestie shows her DTV love by stripping on the school bus. She's rigged her kilt to reverse into a leather skirt and velcros off her blazer sleeves so she can rock a fur collared-plaid vest, plus she puts on a studded belt and barrettes with plastic Dimetrodons on them. And this is just to babysit! I feel SO LAZY. You should too, SJP!

The great thing about the daywear is that even throwaway costumes get love. When twelve-year old Brenda (sorry, Shannen Doherty) first shows up, she's wearing a vaguely boring striped sweatshirt, but she has a dang rhinestone brooch pinned to it!

We can't forget the Bad Boy Love Interest (TM The 80s). This clown is giving me serious Mitch Gaylord in 'American Anthem' vibes, even though that movie came after this movie; it ultimately doesn't matter, because the Rick Springfield style (semi-mullet, jeans, leather jacket, sweaty over-revealing tank top/sweatshirt cut into a muscle shirt) is eternal. Remember, he's here to make sexytimes with the protagonist, so he has to dress, uh, like he's always just had sex, or is about to have sex. Right?

Holy shitsnacks! Did I have a brain tumor for breakfast, or is that awesome?

The Bitchy Girl in 'GJWTHF' has some serious costume 'tude, and by that I mean that compared to Wacky Bestie everything she wears that might be ridiculous looks super-serious. When we first meet her she matches her room, which is decorated as though Joel Schumacher smeared harlequin masks and ballet all over the walls like a chimp smearing poop on a rock. Everything is that pale dirt pink color reminiscent of Flashdance, including her costumes and makeup. We know she's a rich bitch because she's lounging around in a silk shortie as though waiting for Matt Dillon to crawl through her window, but then she really hammers it home: she totally has Cher's closet from 'Clueless'! But I bet she knows exactly where her white collarless shirt from Fred Segal is.


So when everybody shows up for the DTV auditions, we get to see some dancewear action. First, our heroines are ready to dance, and by that I mean Wacky Bestie is ready and SJP is still wearing her lame school uniform (which the drug-addled audition coordinator thinks is "a 'Sound of Music' fashion risk."), because she's a virgin. Bestie is wearing my (and possibly everyone's) favorite costume of the whole movie:

All joking aside, this is really good. The grasshopper on her hat is comedic, but her actual outfit is solid: a black bodysuit, an awesome off-the-shoulder tunic with that big sexy cutout in back, an army-green duffel jacket and black legwarmers that give her legs a great shape. Unlike SJP, she clearly gets laid all the time!

I'd also like to give a quick shoutout to American Anthem's sidekick, Jonathan Silverman. I like that his character is a complete cipher but still gets to have a bit of costume flair. His nerd entrepreneur style, which is fairly consistent, is a Henley shirt under collared shirt under blazer, with some kind of color or pattern juju making it interesting. He wears a bright lavender Oxford in one scene, even. I dig this one in particular, especially with collar UP:

And, he's come to the DTV auditions to sell t-shirts! He is ALL about costume.

Brenda, however, is not so sartorially savvy this time.

I believe that might be Puffy Paint (TM) all over that pink sweatshirt. I'm surprised at you, Brenda! You were on the cutting edge with that cool brooch! No Red Scrunchie (TM) for you.

Bitchy Girl shows up overdressed for the party in white fur, which she peels off to reveal a relatively serious brown getup with a wide gold python belt. (She must be saving the heavy lifting for the final dance-off.)

Everybody else who shows up for these DTV auditions has brought their dancewear A-game. To wit, a list:

1. a Pointer Sisters dance team wearing cute floral dresses, tons of jewelry, striped leggings and fascinators
2. ballerinas in that somehow depressing pale dirt pink again
3. a dude with a studded belt wrapped around his fucking thigh
4. a dude in trashed jeans, suspenders, no shirt, black gloves and a belt made of handcuffs
5. a New Wave dance team in excellently coordinating red-and-black outfits complete with dangling single earrings and tons of wrapped belts
6. a square dance dance team straight outta Nashville
7. a low-budget sock hop dance team straight outta 'Grease'
8. a Chicago cop who looks like he wandered onto the set by accident
9. teenaged twins in excellently coordinating red-and-black jazz outfits
10. a couple dressed in burgundy and black Stevie Nicks outfits

SJP and American Anthem are, frankly, the least interesting of the bunch. At least Anthem's wearing a cut-up red shirt and blue jeans meant to harken to the colors of James Dean's outfit in 'Rebel Without a Cause.' SJP does her whole dance and gymnastics audition with her hair flying around all over the place. How does she not step on it when she does all those flips and shit? It must be SCIENCE!

Aside: I wish I could find a picture of the beleaguered assistant audition coordinator, because her outfit is also terrific: pencils holding her hair up, a military-style cargo shirt under a hacked-up Brandeis sweatshirt, and genie pants. WHAT?!?

At Anthem's school (he's in high school? Seriously?) we catch a quick glimpse of serendipitous 80s crossover magic: Stiles, from the abominable Jason Bateman movie 'Teen Wolf Too,' is in the hallway with a girl wearing a terrific callback to the Pink Lady costumes from 'Grease.' Remember how Stiles also sold stylish Teen Wolf t-shirts? Just like Jonathan Silverman?

No? You don't remember that? Because you never saw that movie, because it was a flaming sack of shit left on cinema's doorstep? Ah, right, okay, gotcha.

Wacky Bestie gives us another glimpse into her fashion genius: the mysterious costume she's wearing when she's mysteriously at the dance studio, not dancing. I'm guessing she's just there to make us jealous of this:

Davy Crockett hat? Check. Chuck Taylors with slouchy socks? Check. Shaped skirt with oversized New Wave tunic covered in flair over cut-up sweatshirt, accented with scarf, belt and insane rubber duffel bag? CHECK! No wonder SJP is freaking out in this screen grab! Who wouldn't be?

Bestie finally rubs off a little on SJP. When they go to the mall, she doesn't wear her damned uniform, for once; she wears a jean skirt and jacket, a big white collared shirt (which totally gives me flashbacks to shopping for Esprit at the Westside Pavilion), a pink shell clip in her hair and WHITE PUMPS WITH SOCKS YES. At least she's not going to publicly humiliate Bestie, who's confidently wearing a cute daywear/dancewear hybrid of a minidress with another cutout tunic over it - it's enough to give her legitimacy when they run around inviting all of Chicago's riffraff to Bitchy Girl's deb party.

No words needed.

There are so many sick-assed costumes through this Gettin' It Together montage that it's worth watching the movie just for 80s clothing inspiration, in case you, I don't know, have an office Halloween party to go to or something. Mohawked punks in Social D jackets, lady bodybuilders wearing spandex and rainbow suspenders, Slash (possibly), Gibson Girls, Debbie Harry wannabes with geometric face makeup, greasers, girls with green dreads and Iris Apfel glasses, and a shitpile of extras who may have been in the actual titular Cyndi Lauper video are all hanging out at the Peach Pit together! It's glorious!

All of these people are going to crash the Bitchy Girl's deb ball. Jonathan Silverman's already there, dashing in a tux with plaid cummerbund and bow tie, as is American Anthem, sporting a revolting combination of jeans, unbuttoned tux shirt and cutaway tails. This isn't a Herb Ritts photo shoot, dude! Bitchy Girl makes her entrance in an evening cocktail ensemble which looks like Andie from 'Pretty in Pink' got her grubby mitts all over it, but her triumph is short-lived when all the riffraff crash the party and fuck shit up. There is an infamous super-plus-bonus in this scene:

I...uh...what is Iron Man wearing? Come to think of it, what is that other guy wearing? Was there a New Wave movement involving styling by Jo-Ann Fabrics that I missed?

Bitchy Girl is not fucking around. BTW, who let that elderly woman wearing the aqua turtleneck in?

OK, remember what I said about Bestie influencing SJP? Well, so does Anthem. When she sneaks out to go dancing with him, she wears a muscle shirt and jeans JUST LIKE HIM! I hope she gets some style of her own someday. Oh, wait, yeah, I forgot.

It's time for SJP to come into her fashion own. Are you ready for some deep analysis, motherfuckers? You knew it was coming. So SJP and Anthem made out, because, dancing together, you know how it goes. Now, when rehearsing her smooth moves, she sports a white leotard (!) without a skirt, some Flashdance off-the-shoulder style, a two-piece leotard plus suspenders (!), and, in one scene, her version of the outfit Bestie wore at the mall. This, of course, is all related to her burgeoning sexuality, taking us from one superlative cliche to another: prissy Catholic schoolgirl becomes gyrating hussy. Her trajectory climaxes (see what I did there?) in a terrifying scene where she's in her bedroom with her much younger brother, wearing a pink fitted tank top and bikini underwear. YIKES. But it's the only way her character can get to a place where she has the stones to rebel against her dad and sneak out of the house so she can dance on DTV, of course! I told you, THIS MOVIE HAS A POINT!

Bestie (wearing a kookoo lace combo pioneered by Madonna [a legendary pioneer of sex costuming, of course] with her hair sprayed straight up in the air) helps her finally escape her virginal prison and they haul balls to the DTV studio. Anthem is waiting for her there with bated breath AND with a smoky eye, bronze lame dance pants with a studded belt, a white blazer with the sleeves rolled up and a midriff-baring splatter-painted shirt.

Aaaand the GIFs just keep on comin'!

Because SJP's taken charge of her sexuality she symbolically rips off her good-girl overalls to reveal her sparkly pink dance costume. She's magically rockin' a perm, too. Want me to assign some kind of symbolism to that as well? OK, her hair is bodaciously curly instead of stick-straight now because, uh, she's taken charge of her sexuality. How's that?

The dancewear for the DTV finals is mostly typical  80s competitive stuff, except for those teenaged twins, without whom Janelle Monae would have no game. This look is tight. Also, they should have won the contest. SJP's a skilled dancer, but Anthem moves like Willard before Ren teaches him how to disco. Just sayin'.

Bitchy Girl busts out her poshest dancewear, a mauve sequined lingerie-styled leotard Richard Blade tells us is a "Michelle St-Germain original." Is there such a thing? The Google didn't seem to think so, but since this movie existed before the Google did, it's possible it's mistaken. Regardless, it's not enough, because although that costume IS sex, SJP wins and blah blah blah. We've got one more costume victory right at the end here: Bestie, also apparently relinquishing her career as a high school student to be on TV full-time, appears driving a chariot in a belted gold lame tunic with a tiara garnished with one of those rubber finger puppets with wiggly arms.

Again, see what I did there?

Most incredible part: there are only 3 people in the costume department listed in the credits. They definitely deserve this, once more, with feeling:

Friday, March 7, 2014


I worked hard at this one, you guys. Carnac the Magnificent couldn't have given it more of a go than I. But all my efforts paid off, and the Netflix Gods granted me yet another exquisite shitshow of an action blockbuster with so many cliches stuffed up its ass, it's got poop swimming in its eyes: 'The Core.' A movie that doubtless had the budget equivalent to a mid-sized EU country's annual GNP, a movie starring Oscar and Tony winners, a movie with a premise so preposterous that it just might be true and the government is keeping it a secret: that is 'The Core.' Sometimes I wonder if I should buy all these heinous action movies on the DVD and construct a special bookshelf/shrine just for them, so I won't have to expend so much energy trolling through the Instant lists looking for them.

So, in 'The Core,' a giant dildo ship piloted by a ragtag gang of nerds penetrates into the Urf in order to detonate a nuke so the Urf's core can start spinning in the right direction. This movie is two hours and fourteen minutes of Olympic-caliber fuckery, with all those Oscar and Tony winners reciting stupid dialogue or sitting around inside the dildo ship with their mouths hanging open while terrible digital effects swirl around outside the ship as the Urf heads towards yet another cinematic apocalypse which can only be averted through a battery of cliches, tropes, and stereotypes.

But before I could formulate a carefully-crafted Danger Zone post beyond my stellar introduction up there,  THE NETFLIX GODS FUCKING TOOK IT DOWN! Like three days after it went up! That NEVER happens! Obviously, one of the following things happened:

1. Hilary Swank's publicist heard me talking shit about 'The Core' while in line at Millions of Milkshakes and realized her stellar career couldn't take yet another hit, so she bailed outta there without even waiting for her Million Dollar European Speciality shake, hauled balls in her Kia over to the Netflix HQ and threatened to set the building on fire unless they gave her back her stapler - er, uh, I mean, took the movie off the Instant queue

2. I didn't sacrifice enough varmint roadkill on the Netflix Gods altar I built in my backyard

3. Somebody at Netflix realized it wasn't supposed to be on the Instant in the first place and removed it

Which one do you think, guys? I'm guessing number 2. I take full blame for this. It'll never happen again, I swear.