That's How I Roll

Okay, so I've posted TWICE IN ONE WEEK! I'm back, baby. Well, okay, so I'm just procrastinating because I don't want to work, but you know what that means. It means we can procrastinate together. Oh, yes, sweet procrastination!

I felt I ought to give a shout out to my friend, Bethie. We had our Bad Movie Night last night, which is seriously the best concept ever. We get together for pizza and wine and watch one of the best bad movies of all time (the last showing was "Showgirls," which if you've ever happened to catch the Vh-1, edited for TV version, you have to agree the drawn-in cartoon bras are hysterical).

Last night's showing was "Glitter," starring Mariah Carey as a young singer who falls in love with a white DJ named "Dice" who can't quite settle on his accent (Is he from Brooklyn or Australia? He just doesn't know - it adds to his mystique). He also asks Mariah if she "blows" (which according to DJ slang, isn't a sexual innuendo at all, but a sincere question about her singing ability). Yeah, okay, I'm not that hip to street lingo, but I'm pretty sure that if a guy asks you if you "blow" he's not talking about whether you can hit the high notes.

Like all truly bad movies, "Glitter" can be turned into a drinking game. Every time Dice says "aw'rite" in false New York/Australian accent - drink! Every time Mariah wears inappropriate silver body paint (a not-so-subtle tie-in to the title "Glitter") - drink! Every time Mariah wears her hair in a disturbing side-pony tail - drink! Every time Mariah shows only the right side of her face - drink! By the way, I think Bethie and I have solved the mystery of the no-left profile rule for Mariah. We're pretty sure she's got a snaggle tooth on that side. And yes, this IS the point of Bad Movie Night - to find profound truths through the zoom/pause buttons on the DVD remote.

By the way, for those of you who haven't seen "Glitter," it's worth the entire movie just to see the end (Mariah wobbling on the grass in stilettos to go see her long-lost mother). It's fantabulous - which according to my make-believe version of Webster's dictionary, means "awesomely bad." I should warn you, though. Do not watch the movie alone, or without the presence of alcohol. Both are needed to make it the best worst movie ever.