Thursday, December 2, 2010

Trix Are for Netflix.

But first things first ... saw FNM Tuesday night with the Hubbernator at the Palladium in H'wood:

Oh no they di-int. 

Cosoriano on YT uploaded a grip of vids from that awesome night. I would post one, but I'm just so grateful to the guy that I feel it's worth visiting his channel to check them out personally. Anyway, Mike Patton is just so sexy. Ladies, I know you feel me. And some guys, too. Right? Right.

Der Setlist:

From Out of Nowhere
Everything's Ruined
Surprise! You're Dead!
Chinese Arithmatic (*cough* and Poker Face *cough*)
Last Cup of Sorrow
Cuckoo for Caca
Midlife Crisis
The Gentle Art of Making Enemies
I Started a Joke
Ashes to Ashes
Just a Man
Chariots of Fire
We Care A Lot
This Guy's In Love With You

We had way too much fun, and the crowd was awesome ... with the exception of this one dude who bought an ice-cold beer and then somehow—between the absolutely wicked supporting act Creepy Creeps and the million-year wait for FNM to approach the stage—forgot that the beer was supposed to go into his mouth, and not all over my shoes. But it's bygones. At least it missed my head, unlike the free beer shampoo my hair received  on the Vegas Strip on New Year's Eve in 1999.

So anyway ...

Something happened on the way to Thanksgiving, and it was called Netflix—a vicious spiral of awesomeness that threatened to insert itself right into the middle of the even more awesome spiral of awesomeness that I call my marriage. Gifted with a nice little chunk of time off, we finally had enough minutes to thoroughly enjoy the bounty of treasures awaiting us in our Instant Viewing Queue.

But then Netflix did a naughty thing. It slurred sweet suggestions in our ears, luring us to try other films that we "might" like, based on other things we watched:

You liked Dracula A.D., now try Girly.

Netflix was right. He just ... he just gets me, you know?

Girly was good, huh? You know you liked it. You loved it. Yeah. Oh, and I noticed you watched The Prowler, and Graduation Day. Well, how about Open House? Hot real estate agents get targeted by a serial killer. It's got Adrienne Barbeau in it. And I know how much you love her ...

You girls okay in there? Mama's makin' a movie.

And so on and so forth. I think between the two of us, John and I ended up watching Netflix's entire catalog in one week. Okay, not really. But a few of my YouTube friends did send out search-party PMs, so it had to have been a substantial amount.

Here are a few of my favorite "new" finds:

Girly (1969)

Careful, they'll send you to the angels.

Originally titled Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly. This movie had to have inspired every loony-tune family-of-murderers movie out there. You can't tell me Tobe Hooper or Rob Zombie never saw this one.

Girly and Sonny get a head in their new friendship.

I love this film. Director Freddie Francis also helmed a few of my favorite Hammer films, The Evil of Frankenstein, and Dracula Has Risen From the Grave.

The Beguiled (1971)

He takes the good, he takes the bad ... and it just gets worse from there.

John chose this one. John is a genius. He's also a sly devil, knowing how much I love Clint Eastwood. But I don't love chick flicks, and judging from the title and the cover, you'd think this had Lifetime Television for Seniors written all over it. But it's so, so good. In this one, Clint Eastwood plays a wounded Civil War soldier taken in by a school for girls. Problem is, he's for the North, and the girls and their schoolmarm are staunchly for the South. Differences are set aside and Eastwood is gently nursed back to health, but soon, all hell breaks loose.Without giving anything away, let me just say that this school ain't Eastland.

These girls want his body in the worst way.

So, if you're one of my YouTube friends, and you've been wondering where I've been, well ... I've been spending my time with Netflix. Just recently, he's upped his fees, but like a hooker with a heart of gold, he continues to give me instant gratification, with maybe a few new tricks thrown in. And like a lonely Jane without a pocket rocket on a Saturday night, I'll continue to pay up.