The Axe Effect

Why doesn't Axe Body Spray create a new print ad that just reads:

"Axe: The Cure for Feminism"

Then that stuff will sell like HOTCAKES. Hotcakes that induce women to BONE YOU.

My hair

My hair is TOO LONG. Normally I would go to some barber and just chop it all off, but several girls (you know, ladies) have told me that they think it looks good long, and God help me I AM STARTING TO AGREE WITH THEM. And not just because I instinctually agree with everything pretty girls say to me, like usual! I think I may actually look better. Or maybe I'm just too lazy to actually go get it cut! I suppose it is up to you, the reader, to judge for yourself.

Note to self

Self, next time you need a brief "clever" bio, use this:

Jeff Stone is your Secret Santa

That should do it.

Love, Jeff

My weekend and yours

Friday night was a good old-fashioned movie night, as Emory and I watched three films (one of which was watched with Mike).

First was Sky High, which proved to be pretty charming and funny, if completely formulaic in its plotting. If I were twelve, I could see it becoming one of my favorite films.

Then Mike came over and we watched Pulse (aka "Ghostpocalypse"), a J-horror movie that's being remade this summer. The trailer for the American version was cool enough that Emory rented the original, and it was creepy as all hell despite not making even one lick of sense. I mean, seriously. What's happening to everyone? What is the ghosts' master plan? If the ghosts are motivated by loneliness, why all that business about the capacity of the afterlife? Still, it made black smudges far more frightening than I ever dreamed they could be.

Mike left after that to go be swallowed up by some unspeakable horror as he walked home, so Emory and I watched Red Eye, which was dumb. I liked the part where Cillian Murphy headbutts Rachel McAdams, and that's about it.

Saturday night I stole Leslie's car (Shhhh, don't tell her) and went to my friend Morgan's brithday party. It was full of lesbians. And I got to see a few Oxy kids who I don't get to see that often, so that was a plus. Afterwards I headed over to Jenni's karaoke birthday in time to perform "Suddenly Seymour" with Laurel (Laurel does a funny Ellen Greene impression) and do "Dancing with Myself" by Kim's request (I hadn't seen Kim in FOREVER). Corinne was there too, so we decided to do "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," as in our youth. We got up to do it and the music started, but no words came up on the screen. Apparently the karaoke machine had chosen then to fritz out, but Corinne and I did the whole song FROM MEMORY because that's just how we roll.

Both days this weekend there was shooting going on in my apartment for a new Atrox short, and by Sunday afternoon I was starting to go a little stir crazy, cooped up as I was. I was a prisoner in my own home! Fortunately Lindsay called out of the blue to invite me and Frank to eat fondue at her house with Nell and Will so the whole day was saved. I stayed up too late and drank too much wine, which is a total departure from my usual behavior, but it was a really fine time. Lindsay's a generous soul.

I need shirts

My desire for this shirt might prove too powerful to resist, considering I could always use more shirts.

That and "Is it... jangly?" is one of my most oft-quoted punchlines. It's the ellipses that are the key to the whole thing.

TM and (C)

Totally awesome band name I just made up!

GOLDEN MALICIOUS

Stay away! It's MINE!


It will probably be one of my solo projects split from Time Machine Go.

Thursday with The Kids

Last night a group of us went to see The Kids in the Hall perform some brand-new material at The Steve Allen Theater. Apparently the Kids hadn't performed together in four years (at least according to the program, and I can't pretend that I'm such a devotee that I know that info offhand), and decided to do these shows like they did in the old days, basically writing and rehearsing the sketches starting on Monday and putting up the show three days later.

In less talented hands, something so hastily thrown together could possibly be unbearable, but the Kids are all gifted comedians, so even when the sketches sagged, the Kids could be relied on to keep things amusing with their performances. And really, the sketches were pretty high quality overall. A few of them even felt like bits that could easily have been on their show. I particularly liked the time machine gags and the bit with the hateful baby ("I feel like I'm cradling all human suffering!"). There were more than a few line flubs, but they were handled pretty well with some funny improvising. Mark McKinney proved the worst offender; in one solo sketch he announced that he had blown his lines so he was going to leave the stage now. And so he did. The final intervention sketch felt like they were all just making it up as they went along. Still, the show was really funny on the whole and it was really just great to see those guys live in such an intimate setting.

Smattering

I know I've done a poor job of entertaining you these last few days. I can't help how goddamn boring my life is. Sorry!

I came home yesterday to find Emory and Leslie finishing up Conan the Destroyer. The final action scene (against a giant rubbery monster dude) was way more exciting than anything that happened in Conan the Barbarian, although Emory said everything leading up to it is really, really bad. But perhaps Emory's judgement was clouded by his intense hatred of Grace Jones. I don't know. Special Destroyer bonus: Olivia D'Abo, being all uncomfortably hot since she was 16 or 17 at the time.

Speaking of uncomfortably hot (he said, sequeing oh-so-smoothly), why did I have to wear my faux turtleneck the day it decides to actually be warm? I was roasting outside today, but at least I sort of looked like Patrick McGoohan. I am not a number! I am a FREE MAN!

The other night at Frank's I saw Before Sunset for the first time. I really, REALLY liked it.

Speaking of talky indie films, McKenna had apparently also gotten the Criterion edition of Metropolitan, (featuring, I keep forgetting, Nell's sister) which reminded me that I wish to rewatch the films of Whit Stillman, a man whose works I enjoyed immensely when I was 18, but might feel differently about now. I also want to rewatch Kicking and Screaming, a movie I thought was by Whit Stillman when I rented it nine years ago, but was actually written and directed by Noah Baumbauch, who went on to become Wes Anderson's new writing partner and also to make The Squid and the Whale. Kicking and Screaming also featured Olivia D'Abo, and so the post comes full circle and I may bid you adieu.

Learn about life, love... and yourself

There's a new Albert Wellington Whiteye colum up at The Atrox. Don't you think it's time you took that first step towards becoming a better person?

Comics of the web variety

New Atrox comic is up.

As for today's Dinosaur Comics, I admit to having had similar thoughts.

Sigh deux

ASTONISHING X-MEN #13 SPOILERS AHEAD


To anyone (specifically Asa) to whom I said "Whedon wouldn't reveal that the White Queen has been secretly evil this whole time. I mean, redemption is his whole THING. Dismantling a great redemption arc like Emma's in New X-Men would be incredibly stupid of him," all I can say is...

How naive I was.

Don't even get me started on the bit about her secondary mutation, either.

Why are DC and Marvel so insistent that I stop reading their books? The books I still want to read are dwindling. Seven Soldiers is nearly over, but I guess I still have Nextwave and X-Factor. For now.

I weird part is that I'm really interested in the big Wildstorm relaunch later this year. I mean, Morrison on Wildcats and Authority? With Jim Lee and Gene Ha, respectively? That'll get me to buy the first issues, at least.

Sigh

That new Jimmy Fallon/Parker Posey Pepsi commercial makes me sad in all sorts of ways.

TV

I'm sure you'll all be relieved to hear that Galactica's back to fighting form, warming up with a "Dana Delaney as terrorist" episode that was good but not great and then doing really well this week, despite the A-plot being predictable from minute one. The B-plot kicked ass, especially since I thought it might wander into moralizing or hand-wringing, but instead wandered into political backstabbing, which is awesome. Gaius Baltar would be TV's awesomest slimeball if Logan Echolls weren't running around over on Veronica Mars. And even though it contained not one single surprise, the A-plot was still pretty compelling.

And that's really all I've watched this week. I'm behind on everything else.

I mean, I watched Conan the Barbarian last night, which is incalculably long for having so little dialogue, but that hardly counts.

Disco whiskey

Friday night Mike and I walked over to the Improv Olympic to see Liz read a short essay for their "Chicken Scratch" segment. It was delightful, as expected. Liz writes good. On our way in (we met Paul, Aimee, and Jenni there) Paul and I noticed that on the schedule that after "Chicken Scratch" there was something called "Mario Kart." "Oh," we thought, "what a cute name for an improv group." Only once the readings were over this girl got onstage and said "Mario Kart tournament is up next!"

Ha! WHAT? Yes.

It was basically a four-round deal to find the four finalists who would compete at the end. Most everyone there either didn't know how to play or didn't know how to play like we knew how to play, because the final four were me, Paul, Mike, and Doug. (Doug, Asa, Alan, and Corinne showed up too.) As Mike noted, it was just like a typical night with us, except strangers were watching. Naturally the big final race was Rainbow Road, and Paul wound up taking it, getting a hefty lead and holding it while Mike, Doug, and I squabbled behind him. I wound up getting fourth, since Doug got a lightning at the last second and blew right by me at the finish line. It was bad luck, mostly, so I don't feel bad about it. And Paul got to achieve one of his life-long dreams.

Afterwards Doug (I think it was Doug, since it sounds like a Doug idea) concocted the idea of Disco Whiskey, the drink that's never the same way twice. It's delicious no matter where and how you have it!

We hit Big Wang's after the Improv, then went back to Hollywood House, where we stayed up until 6 AM because we are not very smart. At least two of our crew had to get up early the next day. Still, a good time was had.

Somebody's getting mar-ried

Deserves its own post, I think.

Matt and Andrea are so totally engaged.

Rock.

Nerd alert!

While I was on the bus on the way home today, I saw a big, silver, manly pickup truck with the following license plate:

GREY HLK

Only one way to read that! NEEEEEEEEEEERD!!!

Of men who've played bats

Here's a bit I lifted from The IMDB:

During an appearance on CNN's Larry King Live Thursday night, George Clooney was introduced by King as "the first person ever to be Oscar nominated for acting and behind-the-scenes work for two different films in one year." The description appeared to amuse Clooney, who responded that King had a way of finding "very specific things to make it sound really good. You know, I think it would be 'the best former Batman nominated for things.'" King, seemingly mystified by the response, responded, "You are the best former Batman." To which Clooney then replied, "Well, I don't know. I don't even think I can pull that one off."

Note how Clooney doesn't claim to be the best former Batman, because he knows Keaton is still out there somewhere, biding his time, awaiting the day when he'll be in a good movie again. I mean, I love George Clooney, but let's face it. The man is no Keaton.

Man, Keaton! Come back to us! In a good movie! The last time Keaton was around and in good things was his awesome one-two punch of playing goofy ATF agent Ray Nicolette in both Jackie Brown and Out of Sight. That was 8 years ago! Keaton come home. Remember when no one thought you would be a good Batman but then you totally ruled as Batman? We need your strength.

(In blogging news, I have decided that bolding is much better than all caps. Look for it from now on!)

It's hypnotic, is what is is

I came home the other day to find Emory and Leslie watching a Sharika concert that they'd Netflixed. Shakira's music is pretty good, really, and occasionally rocks really hard.

Also, her mastery of pelvic kung-fu makes me feel funny. At one point she put a giant candelabra hat on, holding her head perfectly still as her hips swiveled into another dimension. It was something to see.

UPDATE: She also does the robot a lot. It's adorable. She is easily my favorite half-Columbian/half-Lebanese pixie.

Millionaire

Things I would indulge in if I had unlimited moneys:

-Lasik
-Car (for when I actually need one)
-Eating steak whenever I wanted

That's it, I think.

Pure delight on toast

Liz is not wrong. You simply cannot miss today's edition of "Writers: They're Just Like Us!"

Joss Whedon and Warren Ellis dick around on the internet instead of doing any damn work.

The best is when Ellis insists that John Cassady shouts Ellis' name while he masturbates, not Whedon's. Happy birthday to Warren!

Atrox double-shot!

There's a new Atrox Comic AND a new 21/21 Hindsight column up at the ol' Atrox. Why don't you mosey on over and set a spell?

Best celebrity sighting ever

I was waiting for the bus outside my office this afternoon, and who should leisurely drive by in his modified car?

Michael J. Anderson!

How awesome is THAT?

Holy Terror, Batman!

Hands up, who's a little nervous about Frank Miller's upcoming Holy Terror, Batman! OGN?

I mean, at best this comic can't really be more than blowing off steam about 9/11 by imagining Batman punching out Bin Laden, right? At worst? Well, this is Frank Miller we're talking about. I mean, he wrote Robocop 2. Also, it's not like he doesn't make his intentions clear in that article I linked to. And sure, Captain America punched out Hitler, but he also punched out a bunch of racist Japanese caricatures.

Anyway, I guess we'll see how it goes!

Shame in the internet age

I've been meaning to tell you this story for ages, since I first heard about it over Christmas, but it's day-after-Valentine's appropriate, so here we are.

My sister knows several couples who have met through internet dating services. They're popping up more and more. One of my sister's best friends from high school met her fiancee online. But get this: the couple is embarassed about how they met, so they developed a cover story that they met in person at a bookstore! And this is the story they'll be telling friends and family who come to their wedding! That's just hysterical. Whether they will tell their children the truth or not is TBD. I am also really interested in crashing that wedding to shout "They met on the internet!" in the middle of the service. Oh, internet. Why are you still taboo?

Still, I can't really see myself using the internet to meet people. Now I know that I'm not exactly catnip for the ladies, despite what several of my friends with rapidly-dimming memories of my college expoilts will tell you. And it's not like I'm out cruising the bars every night. But it's still not an option I've considered. But who knows what the glorious digital future will bring?

V for Vendetta

I finally got around to reading this, after Emory finally got around to reading it again, and I enjoyed it very much. I first considered reading it back when I was 16, right after I'd bought and devoured Watchmen and V was the only other Alan Moore work I could find on the bookstore racks. But the muted coloring and lack of any superheroic tropes kept me away. Even years later, after From Hell, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and Top 10 had all found places on my shortlist of favorite comics, I sitll didn't read V, figuring I'd get around to it someday.

It finally took Emory re-reading it again after years of dislinking the work and coming to the conclusion that he actually did like it very much indeed for me to crack it open. I'm glad I did. It's a fine work. There are some minor mis-steps; the Lady MacBeth-esque scheming wife veers into cartoonishness almost immediately, and the Leader's bizarre passion for his supercomputer doesn't quite work (although V's manipulation of such is well-done), but there's no denying the power of the central story concerning Evey. From what I've read about the upcoming film, Evey's trials are all there, which will go far in pleasing irritating fanboys like yours truly. (Remember, I'm the one who can't enjoy Ghost World because it needlessly veers so far from the comic.) I considered waiting to see the movie before reading the book, but I just couldn't. I had run out of reading material and these lunch hours don't just fill themselves, you know.

Comic!

A new Atrox comic is up. Click that shit.

Time Machine Go

Jenni took a look at what she was doing a year ago, via her blog, which reminded me to tell you all something.

I just keep this blog to remember inane shit I did in the past!

Last Valentine's Day? Watched Super Troopers. There's the evidence, right there on the internet. What a weird thing to have a record of. It's like how I can only really remember events where I took photos. (Speaking of which, number of bad photos I took at the Zombie High cast party? Infinity.) Anyway, thanks blog!

Valentine's

On the bus this morning, I saw two middle-aged Scientologists walking down the street, hand in hand. Awwww!

A bit about television

For starters, I can't agree with Paul. I thought last week's Veronica Mars was very good. The funniest episode in some time. And is it just me, or is Teddy Dunn's absence totally a plus? Anything they have to do to give Dick and Beaver more screen time is all right by me. I never dreamed I'd be fans of the Casablancas brothers when they became regulars this season, but Dick is reliably hilarious (both as-written and played by Ryan Hansen) and Beaver's new relationship with Mack is already the cutest thing on television all year. Yes, including Puppy Bowl.

This week's Lost was torn between awesome island stuff and a flashback that was just David Mamet's 1987 film House of Games, only with a crappier ending. Not even Kim Dickens guest-starring helped matters. Man, that show could be so damn good. Why do you vex me with your poorly-chosen format, Lost? Why?

And I did find time this weekend to catch the end of Arrested Development. It might not be a terrible thing if the show doesn't come back on another network. The show was able to turn self-referentiality into an art form, but I think there's only so far you can go with that. If it does wind up somewhere else, hopefully the writers will focus on generating new material. Although (spoiler coming up) for sheer comic ballsiness, it's tough to beat Lindsay finding out she was adopted and then immediately trying to have sex with Michael. And GOB shacking up with Ann. That was pure gold.

Holiday

Tomorrow's Valentine's Day.

...Rah?

Mock Trial with J. Reinhold!

Ah, Arrested Development. You'll be missed.

What'd I get up to the last few days? Friday night Adam, Liz, and Mike came over and we played Balderdash, a game I hadn't played in years and that it turns out I am very bad at, as evidenced by my dismal, last-place showing. Then Adam and Liz left and Paul, Aimee, and Lindsay came over and I got my dignity back playing Trivial Pursuit: Pop Culture Edition. When we stopped, I was tied with Mike for first. Then Mike had to go to a movie so the rest of us went over to Boardner's to meet up with Frank and Jess.

When we got to the bar, there was a LINE. Stupid Hollywood bars. While we were waiting, Zoe, Sarah, and 2nd John Ross showed up, so we all huddled outside on the sidewalk for twenty minutes. The best was when this middle-aged guy came out to smoke, saw us standing there, and started telling the bouncer to let us in. "They want to party! Let them in! Let 'em IN, DAWG!" It was funny. And we finally got in, meeting Frank, Jess, McKenna, and a host of others. I wound up spending too much at the bar considering I have no money, but I was glad I went. It's always a pleasure to see Jess.

I spent Saturday doing a bit of research for my upcoming SMRT-TV article (new issue out today!) and then I went and walked Runyon Canyon by MYSELF like an ADULT. It was damn smoggy. That night I walked over to Hollywood House (new name pending) for the Zombie High wrap party. I was only on-set for two days, so I only remember like three people's names. But it was still a good time.

I ended up crashing at the Hollywood House to be awakened the next morning by Corinne knocking on the door, looking for Asa to go to Runyon Canyon. I wound up joining them. I'm going to be SO FIT. Then I had lunch with Corinne and headed home, spending the remainder of the afternoon watching season 1 episodes of Star Trek: TNG with Paul, Leslie, Emory, and Erika, and eating cookies and cupcakes. We are hot young go-getters, yes we are.

I finally took off to meet Jess and Frank at Bossa Nova for dinner (a dinner I did not plan on actually eating, since I was full of cookies and cupcakes). We were waiting outside to be seated, but then Dan and Ryan called and said they would meet us, so we walked back to Frank's for a drink, came back down when the other guys called, and waited for a table again. And then Sam showed up! We did finally get dinner, and Sam and I shared an appetizer. Chicken wrapped in bacon + cream sauce = pure joy. And Frank and Jess let me have a bite of their steak. It was fantastic. Between all the back-and-forth and waiting for tables and service and whatnot, the "dinner" stage of the evening lasted three hours. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I was in good company.

Finally I said goodbye to Jess (did I mention it is always a pleasure to see her?) and headed home. Fine weekend.

And now, a post about comics

I know that some of you out there do read comics, despite people like Lindsay constantly saying "You post so much about comics and Galactica! Blargh!"*, so let me take a moment to recommend the insanely entertaining Dave's Long Box, a site that regularly reviews bad/hysterical comics, like today's offering: Guy Gardner: Warrior #42, in which the titular hero wakes up to find himself gender-reversed:

The story, let’s get back to the story. Guy wakes up as a girl – a buxom, wasp-waist female version of himself. He receives an invitation to a trap – a fashion show that Dementor has taken over. The shapeshifting villain is holding all the models hostage, and will kill them unless…

Unless the sex-changed Guy Gardner shows up and puts on a private fashion show for Dementor, parading around in skimpy outfits.

That’s a sentence I never thought I would have to write in my life, ever.

Ah, only in comics. I can't imagine why most people don't take the medium seriously. There are scans of the book at the link, should you wish to witness the carnage.

It's a good site, too. Dave's enthusiasm (or disdain) for this stuff is infectious.



*I'm exaggerating. Lindsay only says "Blargh!", like, 30 percent of the time.

I guess I should post something

You do come to read stuff here in your might thousands, after all.

I've been busy at work and I think I'm coming down with something (good thing I wasn't planning on drinking at all this weekend... oh, wait), thus no posting.

I haven't even done anything interesting this week. I guess last night Mike and Paul came over since we've formed a team to compete in this Pop Culture trivia quiz thing for VH1 that Mike found. Mike had this quiz book that we went through. We are not good at questions dealing with stuff that happened before we were born.

Uh... what else? This week's Galactica was better than last week's, certainly, but wasn't anything to write home about. It was solid. The Office and My Name is Earl continue to be good times. 24 is still in there. Haven't watched Veronica Mars or Lost yet, although I hear the flashback on Lost this week is weak. There's a shocker.

New strippery

A new Atrox comic is up at the site. Go read it, or I won't love you.

Post where I complain about neck pain like I'm an old man or something

Christ! What the hell did I do to my neck! It just started hurting yesterday in the middle of the day for no reason! Dammit! What the hell?

Foibles

I've been thinking about it, and I think I am really bad about not looking at a woman's chest. Like if a woman's wearing a low-cut top, and she's got boobs to spare, I will catch myself just staring at them, not in like a leering, panting, "AWOOGA! AWOOGA!" kind of way, but just like a "Hey, boobs" kind of way, you know? But I'll catch myself doing it, like, repeatedly. This isn't coming out right. This post has already gotten away from me, but I soldier forth, regardless.

So anyway, ladies, if you catch me looking at your chest, as you inevitably will, just remember that I haven't had a girlfriend in an awful long time and I don't really mean anything by it. Feel free to slap me.

I hurt

What the hell? I hiked around the canyon twice in the last three days, but it's my sides that are sore. Like the muscles on my back, just under my arms. What the hell?

Oh, wait. When I got back from walking yesterday I did a bunch of push-ups, so high was I on the promise of not being embarassingly out-of-shape. Guess it's just my legs that aren't totally weak.

Well, just remember: my lower body can kick your ass!

Also, Puppy Bowl

Man, Puppy Bowl. You are something else.

It was tough to beat the "grand finale" of the Kitty Half-Time Show, where they dropped a bunch of confetti on the kittens and the kittens just cowered in terror. Probably not the reaction Animal Planet was looking for.

Still, puppies!

Der weekend

Friday night Mike came over to watch Mystery Science Theater and I fell dead asleep. Did... did Paul come over too? And Aimee? Maybe? I can't remember my life from four days ago, people. This is a problem.

I don't think Paul came over.

Wait, Frank came over. Not Paul. Okay, it's sorted.

And since Frank came over, he crashed at our place, and then the next morning we all got up, met Paul, and walked Runyon Canyon. Yes! It all falls into place.

Easy access to the canyon is one of the nicest things about living in Hollywood. I'm going to do it all the time, as long as I can remember that it exists. I will be in good shape, dammit!

Saturday night was Alan's birthday at St. Nick's, home of the World's Slowest Bartenders. After about 10 minutes waiting for a drink I was ready to give up, but then Meredith and her substantial cleavage backed me up and got me my drink and one for the guy standing behind us. I had drunk several beers waiting for Frank to pick me up, and then I had whiskey and vodka at the bar, so I got a bit drunk. After the bar we went to Hollywood House for awhile, but by then it was 4 in the damn morning so I went home to go to bed.

Then my sister called at 11 AM, thus interrupting my Hangover Recovery Incubation. Damn it.

Sunday Frank and I went over to the westside to watch the Super Bowl at Nell/Brooke/Whitney's (that place needs a nickname, STAT). Over the course of the day, Lindsay recorded the new hit single, "It's Sunday! I'm drunk!" I'm sure it'll be hitting the airwaves soon.

After the game, Will and I decided to teach Lindsay poker, which was a bad idea, considering the absurdly good cards she caught. Most frustrating was the flush on the river when I had two pair, aces and jacks. Good thing we weren't playing with real money.

Finally I decided to turn in and caught the bus home (Frank had gone to work earlier in the evening). The bus showed up only five minute after I got to the stop. Lucky break. Go, MTA, go!

New comics goodness

A new Atrox comic is up at (where else?) The Atrox. It's a bit grim, I warn you.

Missives from the future

A new installment of our regular 21/21 Hindsight column has been transmitted to The Atrox. Gaze through the window of time.

Sometimes I watch things

I have looked into the face of madness, and it is BoBoBo-Bo Bo-BoBo.

I mean, I've seen some weird anime, but MAN. It's really funny, though.

Sometimes I have thoughts

Oingo Boingo's "Just Another Day" would make a damn fine TV theme song, I think. Maybe for the "Emory as ace detective" TV show that Paul and Frank are currently obsessed with.

Okay, sure

I just received a slinky with our company logo on it.

Yeah, I don't know.

Bizarre

What is with the weird karaoke scenes in Veronica Mars this season? Wednesday's episode had that weird bit with the guy singing "Veronica" and earlier this season there was that weird sequence where a different guy got up and did "Love Hurts" and the camera held on him as he did the entire first minute or so of the song and what the hell? Does anyone else remember that scene? And both scenes had a bit where a girl in the audience joyously watches the guy singing while her boyfriend or whatever looks jealous. Are these guys friends of Rob Thomas? Did they win a contest? What the hell?

New comic

There was a new comic yesterday at The Atrox, but I forgot to post about it. It's the finale of our extended "Atrox's New Year's party" story. Now that it's over, it'll be one or two-shot strips for awhile, I think.

Where it all began

Does anyone ever miss All Star Lanes karaoke? I sometimes miss All Star Lanes. We should go back there sometime.

Certainly some of my fondest memories of my first year or so post-graduation is the regular Tuesday night All Star trip, especially the days when we would watch Top Model, Buffy, and 24 beforehand. Good times.

Things I have seen and read lately

Wedding Crashers - This movie. Man. It's a misfire on almost every conceivable level. You know a film's in trouble when Will Farrell shows up and completely fails to be funny. Man. Man. Watching it was only leavened by Emory's constant jokes about not being able to recognize Rachel McAdams. "Uh, were you the girl in Cry Wolf? No? What about... wait, were you in Walk the Line? No, that was Reese Witherspoon. Wait! I got it! You starred in The Princess Diaries!" Much funnier than anything that occurred in the film itself. Thank God we watched the theatrical cut, since the movie's about 45 minutes too long as it is.

Private Wars - Hey, kids! It's the second Queen and Country novel! What do you MEAN you've never heard of it? This one's not as good or as tense as A Gentleman's Game. The stakes never seem quite as high for Tara (save for in a harrowing torture scene), but it's still damn good and Paul Crocker is one of my favorite characters in anything.

Seven Soldiers: Bulleteer #3 - Now we're into actual comics, instead of novels that used to be comics. While Guardian looked at a new superhero who had everything going for him (save for his own self-doubt), Bulleteer explores things from more of a ground-level view, as Alix struggles to find a purpose and pay the rent. This issue she's bodyguarding a mermaid at a superhero convention, and intermingling with several characters from Zatanna's therapy group, as well as the only living member of the Newsboy Army we've yet to see in the present day. The issue's damn funny and almost painfully sweet.

X-Factor #3 - Well now we know why Layla Miller's hanging around, and it's an awesome reveal. I wish Ryan Sook would draw an entire issue again, but storywise this series is a great time.

The tables keep turning!

Y'know, I keep thinking plots in this season of 24 will be drawn out, but no, shit keeps getting taken care of, without losing a sense of narrative drive. Last night's Fury-scripted episode rocked, especially when Aaron and Jack burst in on the President. Jack didn't kill anyone this episode (I guess he did threaten to pluck a guy's eye out), but if the "Next on" blurb was any indication, he'll be more than making up for it next week.

Listen up!

A new advice column awaits you at The Atrox. Won't you partake and learn how to improve your life?