Washington DC is playing football with our nation's future, kicking around the American credit card and refusing to stop spending even though we're broke and about to be foreclosed on. Our President claims to have a plan to deal with our massive debt problem, yet much like Nancy Pelosi's favorite health care bill, no one has seen this plan and we're told we must pass it in order to find out what's in it. In the case of Crazy Nancy's insistence that we'd have to pass the health care crime in order to see it, she was telling the truth because Democrats did all their dirty work behind closed doors, in total violation of the way our system works. In President Obama's case, no one at all has seen or heard any piece of any plan, yet the president continues to insist that he has one. It's a bit like his balls, we're expected to believe that they exist, but we see little recent evidence of that.
I'm being hit with requests to join Google+, Goodreads, Formspring, and on and on and on. For God's sake, how many internet things can I be expected to join and keep up with? I just want to turn off my computer and watch a movie, or read a good book, or go sit on a beach somewhere and relax in front of ocean waves with no phone and no internet drama.
Another Muslim terrorist hiding within America's own army attempted to execute a terrorist jihad attack on our soldiers at Ft Hood. And still our mainstream media refuses to identify him as a Muslim terrorist, just as they refuse to refer to illegal aliens as illegals and Senate Majority leader Harry Reid as a cunt.
NASA has released new information that blows a giant hole in the religious dogma of Al Gore and his church of the Sky is Falling environmental extremists who claim that global warming is a crisis and a threat to life on Earth. Far more heat and radiation is released into space than the United Nations and other environmental bogus government agents have claimed, the new data shows. But much like the discovery that freon was not causing any hole in the ozone did not reverse the EPA's ridiculously misguided restrictions on freon, and ditto with DDT, don't hold your breath waiting for this new discovery to have any effect whatsoever on the Carbon Tax proponents throughout the Western World of Wackos or Julia Gillard.
A new study has found that "Voters who watch a lot of television but don't really know much about the candidates besides how they look" tend to vote for whichever candidate is the prettiest and shiniest, rather than the smartest or most qualified. This came as no shock to former Presidential candidates John McCain or Bob Dole, both of whom lost to younger, shinier candidates who made shockingly empty speeches and promises and yet still trounced their older, duller opponents. It also comes as no shock to the Mainstream Media which has been working feverishly to smear and destroy shiny, pretty Presidential candidate Michelle Bachmann, who threatens to unseat Press-Blessed Golden Boy Barack Obama in the next election.
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Captain America: The First Avenger is the story of 4F aspiring soldier Steve Rogers, played by Chris Evans, during the 1940s, when every man in America was facing the possibility of going to war, or already fighting. Scrawny, sickly, short and weak, Steve Rogers never ran from a fight, and never won one either.
A former German scientist with a super soldier formula observes Steve Rogers' extreme determination and guts and decides that he is a good candidate to become the first American super soldier. The formula was invented in Germany by the doctor before he escaped after testing it only once. That one test, though, created Nazi super soldier the Red Skull.
Steve is transformed from a short weakling into a mountain of a man with superhuman strength, speed, skill and durability. At the moment of his transformation, a Nazi spy sent by the Red Skull assassinates the doctor, who oddly enough left no notes behind enabling anyone to duplicate the formula. Thus, Steve Rogers, now transformed into Captain America, and the Nazi officer Red Skull are the only super soldiers known to exist.
From here, the excitement begins to pick up as the movie takes Captain America across the sea into the heart of World War II.
Captain America's love interest is Peggy Carter, played by a sexy British bombshell named Hayley Atwood, mostly known as a very serious and busty actress with a gorgeous face. The military officer in charge of Captain America is played by Tommy Lee Jones.
The movie is good, if somehow not exciting enough. Everyone does an excellent job at playing their characters. The special effects and 3D work very well. At one point I flinched when Captain America's shield bounced off a tank and came straight at the screen. The Red Skull, played by Hugo Weaving of elven Lord of the Rings fame, is convincingly villainous and dislikable. I can't put my finger on what specifically was lacking in the movie that would have made me give it a full 4 stars or more, but something was. I think Marvel Productions is anxious to get their Avengers movie rolling and this movie appears to be the last one standing between them and their goal of a (probable) series of comic book based movies featuring The Avengers. Perhaps that is what made it feel less than it could have been.
I have to give the movie credit for being a true family friendly film. Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwood) may be sexy as hell (she definitely is), but there is no seething nude sex scene between her and Captain America. Not that I, being an adult, would have complained if she were naked and in 3D, by any means. And despite all the fighting and war scenes, no one shot anyone in the balls, kicked anyone in the balls, punched or grabbed or stomped anyone's balls, set fire to or electrocuted anyone's balls, or did anything generally evil, sadistic, perverted and very much family hostile to anyone's genitalia at all. That's rare for an America action movie these days, but apparently someone at Marvel or Warner Brothers has noticed that movies without 'nut shots' usually make more money than movies with nut shots. So bonus points for the absence of nut shots in Captain America: The First Avenger.
Rating: 3 1/2 stars
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So, apparently there is another Transformers movie out, and this time they dumped Megan Fox and went with a Victoria's Secret model. I have nothing against Victoria's Secret models, but to be totally honest I can't stomach those lame-ass movies without Megan Fox to drool over. So let's talk about something else. Let's talk about Decepticons.
Earlier this week I received an email from someone saying, "did you hear about Spiky Zora Jones? She's a total fake, just like that Steph girl from Much Ado was."
Here is what I have heard and what I know:
Some time ago, a blogger called Hunii claimed to have terminal cancer. She wrote eloquently about her struggles with cancer and basically blogged her own death. A lot of bloggers, including the famous Steph of Much Ado, were very upset, believing a friend they knew only through The Blog had died.
Meanwhile, Steph of Much Ado decided to stop using photos of herself and her friends, and just use photos of an American internet model named Staci Cole instead. On her blog she technically never said "this is me" but privately, whenever anyone asked her for a real photo of herself without the trademark black rectangle over her eyes she'd send a photo of Staci Cole.
And then Steph discovered Spiky, and realized that Spiky was actually the same blogger who called herself Hunii. Whatever was said between them about this, or what went on privately, I have no idea. Steph later said something along the lines that she wanted to write a total shred post about what Hunii/Spiky had done and how wrong it was, but by this time Steph was not only feeling guilty about her own new deception with the photos on her own blog, but also her new Facebook account in which she had invited numerous popular bloggers to friend her and then filled her photo albums with more Staci Cole photos. She was caught in a dilemma - how can she be outraged at Hunii/Spiky when she was now doing something similar herself? She couldn't justify it, so she kept her mouth shut, and soon after closed her own blog, ending her blog deception, but not admitting what she'd done.
A year later, Arna, also known as Breastesses, if I remember correctly, discovered the real Staci Cole. She was angry because she had sent Steph $1000 worth of jewelrey to try to market for her in Sydney and Melbourne. She wasn't sure if the real Steph was anything she'd claimed to be and perhaps had stolen her jewelry with false pretenses. She contacted Fingers, who blogged a big expose of Steph/Staci Cole and turned The Blog upside down in the process.
Steph owned up to what she'd done, but by that point it was like a forest fire, with so much smoke and flames that no one was rational enough to listen anymore. Arna asked for her jewelry back. Steph promptly sent it to her along with an apology. Steph then deleted her Facebook profile, set her blog to private, and left The Blog once and for all, much to the regret of a great many bloggers who greatly enjoyed her witty and friendly comments on their own blogs.
From that point on, the most sociable of bloggers was Spiky Zora Jones. Like Steph, Spiky visited and commented on the blogs of anyone who read her blog, or was in her blogroll, and a great many other blogs as well. She was known for being almost as friendly as Steph, even if she occasionally and inexplicably went off on people which Steph had rarely done. Spiky was nice to a wide circle of friends, and greatly appreciated.
And then late one night, unable to sleep, Cath Smack was up late watching television and just happened to see a famous performer named Storm Large on The Ellen Show. She noticed that Storm Large was the same person she saw in photos on Spiky Zora Jones' blog. Thinking Spiky was Storm, she contacted Storm Large. Storm responded, and was shocked to learn that there was a popular blog using her photos and her life and career.
Since Storm Large discovered the rather elaborate fraud, Spiky Zora Jones' blog has been taken down. Her Facebook profile has also apparently been deleted, perhaps by Facebook itself at the request of Storm Large's lawyers who appear to be responsible for the rather rapid deletion of Spiky's blog.
Storm Large
Now the discussion seems to be whether or not we can equate Steph's deception with Spiky's.
I say no, we cannot. I was reading Steph's blog back before she ever used a single Staci Cole photo. I remember when her photos were of herself and her friends. The first one didn't even have her patented black rectangle over her eyes. It was just her arm, which she lay across her eyes so that we wouldn't see her whole face in the photo. From there she slowly adopted the black rectangle, and more than a year later, the first Staci Cole photo appeared. Nowhere on her blog did she say that the photos of Staci Cole were of her. It was the later deceptions, the private emails and the Facebook profile, that truly made people feel lied to. The photos had nothing to do with Steph's blog posts and her stories. They were simply photographic embellishment.
For the record, none of the photos currently on my blog in which a face can be seen are of me. And that includes my profile photo. Over the many years this blog has existed, I have had only 2 profile photos. One was of a woman with her pants down mooning the camera. The other was the current photo, the naked man on the toilet by the roadside. Neither is me.
Now, as for Spiky's deception, it is a bit different. Spiky didn't just slowly use more and more of Storm Large's photos in place of her own. She also seems to have used Storm Large's career and life as her own, claiming to have performed shows that Storm Large actually performed.
Think about it for a moment. When the Staci Cole photos were discovered, did anyone mistakenly believe that Steph was actually Staci Cole, an American model from Pittsburg? No, there was nothing about Steph's blog implying that she was ever a model from anywhere, let alone the United States. But when Cath Smack discovered Storm Large, she actually thought, based on what Spiky had written, that Storm and Spiky were one and the same. Say what you will about Cath Smack, and I've certainly had my differences with her, but she is not particularly stupid. It wasn't low intelligence that led her to mistake the real Storm Large for blogger Spiky Zora Jones. No, it was Spiky and her blog that created this confusion. And it seems to have been intended to do so. So no, I don't think we can compare and equate the two deceptions.
Making matters worse is the fact that whomever the person behind the Spiky Zora Jones blog is, they did this before with another blog, deceiving people and essentially playing with their emotions without any hint of guilt that we know of. It is almost as if this person, whomever they may be, is simply using The Blog as a tool for creating characters and writing from their perspective, like some neverending creative writing exercise at our expense. It's cold. And it's disturbing.
When Steph was blogging still, her blog was THE place to be. You could hang out in her comments and have an ongoing conversation with people you met there. The comments were often every bit as entertaining as the blog itself. It was like a bar we all hung out at and had a big party day after day. When Steph's blog closed, it was the end of something unlike anything else I have ever encountered on any blog anywhere. And Steph was very generous with taking the time to visit each and every blogger who visited her. She read every word that we wrote and commented on it. Sometimes her comments were along the lines of "Steve, you are a great big dribbling cunt," but mostly and with most other bloggers she was very friendly and funny. People absolutely adored Steph because she earned it and she deserved it. The Staci Cole photos no doubt added sex appeal and brought in more blog fans, but even before those she was a giant on The Blog.
When Spiky was blogging, she seemed to find the time to go around and visit everyone, too, just like Steph had done. She would leave mostly very funny and friendly comments, except with me sometimes she would say things like "Steve, you mother fucking conservative asshole, you suck." Mostly, though, she was very friendly and we appreciated having her around.
There seem to be fewer blogs every day. Losing Steph's blog was a huge blow. It's a shame that she had already made up her mind to end her blog before the fake photos were discovered, or else I'm fairly certain she would have owned up to it (which she did) and then gone on writing without the Staci Cole photos and still remained the most popular blogger in all of Australia. As it is, she had already closed her blog for reasons which had little to do with Staci Cole and it is unlikely that anything is going to change her mind about that now. Losing Spiky's blog, I don't know what to say because it seems that we truly don't know what was real in what she wrote - what, if anything, we can believe. But we have still lost her comments and her visits and that is a genuine loss to all of us.
I don't know what to say in conclusion about the deception of Hunii and then again as Spiky Zora Jones. One person, and we have no idea who, deceived us twice, and in a big, big way. Some bloggers are suggesting that there is likely mental illness involved in this. Perhaps so. Or perhaps this person, whomever they are, simply enjoys creating characters on the internet and seeing how far they can go with them. I don't know. I only know that The Blog feels a little darker after this and a little less fun.
UPDATE: My information about the blogger Hunni (Huni?) being the same blogger as Spiky Zora Jones may be totally incorrect. It was Huni/Hunni that Steph of Much Ado discovered alive and well after having faked her own death, and felt outraged at, only to let it slide over her own feelings of guilt for deceiving readers with Staci Cole photos.
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Gone Baby Gone was released in 2007, starring Casey Affleck, Michelle Monaghan, Morgan Freeman and Ed Harris. It was based on the book by author Dennis Lehane and follows it closely. The author was present for much of the filming. It was also the directorial debut of actor Ben Affleck, and he did a fantastic job with a fantastic story.
I stumbled across this movie purely by accident. It apparently won awards and was very popular among those who saw it, but I had never even heard of it. To be perfectly honest, I picked it up simply because Michelle Monaghan is in it, and so far I have been impressed with everything she has ever done. This movie was no different. She was impressive and so was the film.
Bridget Moynahan Nude
Speaking of Michelle Monaghan, some years ago I wrote a post entitled "Bridget Moynahan Nude", which was a shameless attempt to see how many hits I would get from people searching for nude photos of Bridget Moynahan. To this day, several years later, that search is still one of the top search requests that brings people to my blog. Personally, I think people should be searching for "Michelle Monaghan Nude", because I think she is awesome. But that is neither here nor there. They are both awesome nude and welcome to my blog all you pervs.
Michelle Monaghan Nude
This film is about a couple who are private investigators. The couple is played by Casey Affleck and Michelle Monaghan. They are hired to find a kidnapped little girl. The police are already investigating the disappearance of the girl, but the sister-in-law of the kidnapped girl's mother doesn't think they are doing enough, so she hires the private eye duo.
The story winds through what seems to be a predictable path, but just when you think you know where it's going, it veers off down a different road. There are a number of possible suspects, all with different motives, and at one point it seems certain that the girl is dead and the story over. But the story is not over and a whole new mystery begins, leading to new information about the case of the missing girl, and ultimately taking the story down a very unexpected path to a very unusual and conflicted ending.
I'm not going to tell you how the movie ends. If you haven't seen it, you need to go buy the DVD and find out, or rent it from Netflix if you aren't too pissed off at them to continue renting from them, or simply buy the streaming video from Amazon. I don't care how you watch this movie. I just want to recommend that you watch it.
I'm giving this movie 4 stars out of 5. It was awesome. Also, no one gets hit, kicked or shot in the balls, so there's obviously a big bonus for that. And it has Michelle Monaghan in it, so one more bonus for that. I'd give it 5 stars, but I don't want to cheapen the value of 5 stars. Otherwise, I'd just slap 5 out of 5 stars on it and say "wow, that was impressive. Get this movie."
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars ****
Get it.
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After winning the Women's World Cup against China, Mia Hamm and company set out to create a professional women's soccer league. She refused to go the route of the WNBA, which used feminist blackmail to extort money from corporations in order to pay their expenses. Instead, she intended to make it legitimately on merit. It was a very honorable attempt, but it failed. It went bankrupt after only a few seasons. And I think I know why.
When flipping channels at an average speed and clicking past a women's soccer match, a men's soccer match, a women's basketball game, a men's basketball game, women's tennis, men's tennis, and football, the average person has the following reactions:
1) I saw 2 soccer games. I have no idea if both games were men's soccer or not. I couldn't tell. 2) I saw 2 basketball games. I think one of the games was women because of the long hair and slow, awkward movements. 3) Women's tennis, eh? I love those Russian girls. I wish Hingis and Kournikova were still playing. I loved watching them. 4) Eh, men's tennis. 5) Football!
I'm sure this is politically incorrect to say, but I don't care because I know it's true. Men and women are different. There, I said it. Big shocker, I know. Men and women are different and have different strengths and weaknesses. Male athletes are faster, stronger, and jump higher than female athletes. People like to watch them perform because they are exciting in what they can do. Female athletes are exciting to watch, too, but not necessarily in the same way. They don't jump as high, run as fast, or kick the ball as far as the men. So why do we watch them?
Maria Sharapova can't hit the ball as fast or hard as anyone in the men's circuit, yet she's immensely popular among fans. Anna Kournikova was even more popular even though she never won a major tournament. Yet neither of them can hit as hard or fast as the men. Why are they both even more popular than the men, then?
Because they have something that men don't have. They have women's bodies. When they move, it is exciting. It is mesmerizing. It can be hypnotic. It helps that they are also very athletic, but even if they weren't, their movements would attract attention. Maria Sharapova has been photographed more times while simply walking onto the tennis court than most male tennis players have in an entire year of play. Why? Because she is exciting to watch just walking out to play.
It doesn't matter why this is. It just is.
Women in tennis get to choose their own clothes. And they almost all choose clothes that they feel pretty in, even sexy. Audiences have responded to that in a big way. We like pretty women. And we love pretty, young, athletic women.
Women's beach volleyball is enormously popular. It started out as people just playing around on the beach. It got increasingly more competitive until one day ESPN picked it up as a filler, and today it is a huge money making success. Why wouldn't it be? It has athletic women in bikinis competing in a sport. Men love watching that. Women do, too, apparently. When was the last time you saw a men's beach volleyball match on TV? Can you name a single pro men's beach volleyball player?
We like women because they are women. We respond to women who look like women and move like women and are different from men.
In soccer, the women wear uniforms that are identical to the men's uniforms. They are baggy sacks that hide everything about a woman that makes her different from a man. Even when the women grow their hair long and wear it in a big ponytail it doesn't necessarily help because so many European and South American male soccer players do, too (proof that soccer is a girlie sport.)
I think women's professional soccer would make more than twice as much money in the United States if the women ditched those saggy old men's uniforms and switched to something more girlie, something that made it instantly obvious within the first tenth of a second when a viewer is flipping past a game on TV that those are girls out there, with no room for confusion, no doubt, no possibility that it's just guys with long hair.
Brazil's Women's World Cup Soccer Team
If you do an internet search for women's world cup soccer team photos, you will find that almost every team has at one time or another posed in their underwear or even nude - the entire team! Why do you suppose they do this? Is it possible that the women themselves aren't fond of the ugly men's uniforms they wear? Could it be that they'd like to show the world that they are, in fact, beautiful athletic women under there? I think so. I think if the women who play the game were to choose for themselves a new uniform, it would look a lot more feminine and a lot sexier. And TV audiences would eat it up, bringing the money flowing in.
No, I'm not talking about bodypaint or lingerie. I mean real uniforms, but girlie uniforms that look nothing like the guys.
Asian world cup team
I wish someone would suggest this to Mia Hamm. I think it would work.
What do you think?
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I don't know what's come over me. Lately I have no tolerance for shit that pisses me off, people who jerk me around, or devices that don't do what they're supposed to do.
I've begun to value my time more than I value the entertainment and interaction I once gained through the internet. Thus, my slow as hell PC has become the number one beneficiary of my wrath and I avoid it more each day.
My Blackberry is pushing its luck, too. The screen broke and I got a new phone. It's bigger, heavier, and by God, slower than the old one. I liked the old one. This thing I could do without. I'm beginning to wonder if I might return to the days when I left home without my cell altogether. Why carry it if it is just going to piss me off by not doing what I ask of it? My pockets will be lighter without it weighing me down.
Most of all, though, I have lost patience with friends who aren't friends. I've been pruning them. No, I don't mean internet friends, like on Facebook or the Blog. Oddly, I am more patient with them than I am these days with my real life, face-to-face friends. I figure if you know me in daily life, or if you went to school with me years ago and truly know me very well, there are things I shouldn't be expected to put up with from you. And guess what? I'm not going to. You want to call me a friend and then take a giant shit on me again and again? Fuck you. Hit the road. I don't need you in my life. More than that, I won't allow you in my life. You can call me whatever you want, but I don't call you friend anymore. I have become a much less forgiving person lately, I don't know why, but I have. Once I cut that tie with you, your ass is gone for good. I don't care to kiss and make up at a later date. Just go away. I've already deleted your number, blocked you, and otherwise eliminated any and all ties between us.
A change, it is blowin' in the wind. It is here, right now. And you are gone.
This is what is on my mind these days. In this age of bullshit tolerance, I am feeling remarkably intolerant. I have had enough.
So here's a bonus for you, two good videos marginally related to this post. I don't care if you don't see how they relate. They're both good songs. Just enjoy the music.
"Salvation's when you find out who you are ... too late to change"
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A Florida jury set accused child-murderer Casey Anthony free, declaring her not guilty of any of the murder charges against her. Murder - manslaughter - whatever. I suppose I'm supposed to care. But I just can't. And I've noticed that most of the rest of America seems to feel much the same as I do. It's not that we don't think she's guilty. It's not that we don't care that a child was murdered. It's just that after Lorena Bobbitt, OJ Simpson, Mary Winkler and so many other politically correct, government-protected psychopaths have gotten away with unspeakable crimes, I think most Americans have lost all faith in our entire justice system, from the genital-Tasering cops to the witch-hunting, prostitute-paying prosecutors to the masturbating judges and especially to the system that allows juries to be selected with race and sex as a clear factor such that most juries are predominantly female and thus always highly sympathetic to females and hostile towards males without the slightest regard for the facts.
I fully expected the mostly female jury to pound Casey Anthony for killing a child, as female juries only ever seem to punish women who hurt children and basically never any other time. The verdict was being read as I ate lunch with a group of friends. I said to them, "it doesn't matter what they sentence her to, because after she's found guilty, the National Organization for Women will demand a new trial in which they'll declare her the victim of some man or some bullshit temporary mental illness that renders her immune from any and all personal responsibility, just like they did with that woman in Texas who murdered her five kids ..." And then the verdict was read - "Not Guilty."
Well, that was a surprise. But only just barely. The waitresses and bartender woman were all gathered around the TV, riveted. The men were more interested in the women's reactions, whatever the verdict, as somehow women are always mad at men whenever a trial like this reaches its end, whatever the verdict. When "not guilty" was read, the women began flailing their arms around and talking animatedly to one another in an obvious rage. The men just frowned and looked down at their plates. We mumbled between ourselves that it doesn't matter anyway. She was going to go free in the end. They always do.
The saying is true, you know - "no justice, no peace." But there are evil people in this world who thrive in an unjust, unhappy world where no one believes anymore. Those people are all over Washington, DC. They even have their own branch of the Department of Justice now, courtesy of a bipartisan bill that no one even read before voting for back in the mid-1990s. They dominate the United Nations, too.
There is a leadership vacuum in the world today. And these are dangerous times to live in as a result.
IMF Chief Accused of Rape, Charges Dropped
The prosecution team in the rape case against former IMF Chairman, Strauss-Kahn, has dropped the case altogether. To see a man charged with rape, only to have the prosecutor later admit that there is no reason to believe the accuser and drop the case, is virtually unheard of in the United States today. Most prosecutors in America go on ahead with the case even when all the evidence proves that the accused man is innocent, especially in the feminist-controlled city of New York. This once powerful man was brought all the way down to his knees, rotting in a prison cell, by a cleaning woman based entirely on her say-so and nothing else. Such is the state of the current Western legal system.
When the case began to unravel, I'm sure there was a great deal of talk of continuing with the charges and trying to hide whatever was wrong with the case. Whatever else went on behind the scenes, we may never know.
One thing we do know, though, is that this man who was just a month or two ago the head of the International Monetary Fund has lost his reputation and his career to these apparently false accusations, and despite the unraveling of the case, he is not going to be getting his life back, or his job. And that seems wrong to me.
Can Man Live Forever
Scientists think they are on track to cure aging and enable us all to live forever, or at least a lot longer than we currently do. Watching endless videos of young males throwing themselves off the roofs of houses and buildings and castrating themselves on railings down below, all for the entertainment and pleasure of any girls that might want to watch, I find it hard to believe that anyone from the younger generation is going to live so long. I detect a kind of emptiness in our nation's youth that makes me think that no matter what medical advances we come up with, as long as the younger generation continues to feel the need to throw themselves off rooftops in a vain quest for acceptance, death will continue to win. But nice try, even so.
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The Adjustment Bureau is no longer showing in theaters. I paid $3.99 to rent it for 24 hours through DirectTV solely because Emily Blunt is in it and she looks like the identical twin sister of my niece. They don't just look a little alike. They look exactly alike. If Emily Blunt didn't have an English accent I swear no one could tell them apart. They even wear the same hairstyles and clothes. And my niece barely knows who Emily Blunt is, which I think is funny.
Basically, Matt Damon's character, David Norris, is a man whose life is all about politics and getting elected to the Senate. He's surprisingly successful at it and that is all he cares about. But then he runs into Emily Blunt's character while rehearsing his concession speech in the men's bathroom. She's in there hiding from building security after crashing a wedding. They click instantly and she inspires him to give the best speech of his life, ultimately propelling him to success in the next election. But they part ways immediately following the bathroom encounter, supposedly never to see each other again.
A black man is shown every now and then, clearly following David Norris around and somehow influencing the events of his life. One morning this black man, named Harry, is told by his superior, Richardson, played by Man Men's John Slattery, that he is supposed to somehow cause David to spill his coffee before he can get on the bus he normally catches, preventing him from making the bus. Harry complains that he needs a vacation from this job. Richardson laughs that Harry has been on this case longer than anyone. Then he leaves. Harry promptly falls asleep and misses David getting onto the bus.
Emily Blunt's character is on the bus. He sees her and happily sits right next to her. They click once again. He gets her name and number, which he never got the chance to do the last time. Her name is Elise. David and Elise agree to meet up when he calls her.
This is when the men following David around step in. He gets to work and sees everyone in his office frozen in place. He walks into a conference room and finds this team of men in Frank Sinatra hats messing with his coworkers. They grab him, tie him to a chair, and inform them that they are from the Adjustment Bureau. Their job is to make minor adjustments in people's lives, always without the people realizing it is happening, in order to keep those people in line with the official plan that The Chairman has drawn up for them. And meeting up with that girl, Elise, is not part of David's plan. They take her number from his wallet and burn it, telling him never to see her or contact her again, or else.
Of course, now David is more determined than ever to find her.
Three years of riding that same bus daily later, David sees Elise walking down the street (she even WALKS like my niece.) He jumps off the bus, and so begins the major adventures of this movie, as they fight to get together against all odds, taking on the adjustment bureau and The Chairman, at all costs.
I won't tell you any more than that, but I will tell you that this is a very good movie. I don't even like Matt Damon, ever since he made that incredibly stupid PC comment about James Bond, and still I thought this was a terrific movie. Since I paid for it to run nonstop for 24 hours, it was available on my TV over and over again. And I, who never watch the same movie or listen to the same song twice in a row without some sort of break in between, I watched it again and again and again.
I'm giving The Adjustment Bureau 4 stars out of 5. The story is excellent. The acting is top notch. It's exceptionally well done. No one gets hit in the balls that I can remember. And Emily Blunt is so awesome that once you've seen this movie, unless you can find a way to reach her directly, you creepy stalker, you will probably be bugging me to introduce you to my niece simply because she looks exactly like her. But I won't do it. I'm just telling you that ahead of time. See this movie. Buy it, rent it, whatever your preference is. Just see it. And then don't bug me to introduce you to my niece.
She returns to work with absolutely no enthusiasm, like a DMV employee who couldn't quite qualify for welfare and unexpectedly ended up having to work for a living. All her coworkers are dysfunctional losers of some form or other, some more than most. Her rival, Amy Squirrel, is a red-headed perfectionist and control freak.
Elizabeth wants to get a boob job, thinking this is her ticket to trophy wife-land, but she hasn't got the $10,000 she's told she needs to pay for it. She learns about a reward program for the teacher whose students score the highest on the state standardized test at the end of the school year, a feat rival Amy Squirrel has managed to achieve every single year. Elizabeth begins trying to force her students to learn faster and more, teaching solely to the standardized test, punishing the kids for not learning fast enough by calling them idiots and hitting them with dodgeballs.
A wealthy but very nerdy Scott Delacorte, played by Justin Timberlake, comes to teach at her school, leading to a love of money rivalry between her and Amy Squirrel. Meanwhile, a very ordinary Russell Gettis, played by Jason Segel, the lowly gym teacher, announces that he is going to be Elizabeth's boyfriend and she might just as well accept it. She laughs him off every time he approaches her. Meanwhile, the rivalry between Elizabeth and Amy over Scott Delacorte, coupled with Elizabeth's determination to steal a copy of that standardized test and make certain her students score the highest possible, makes for a pretty entertaining story with a lot of laughs and a funny ending.
I'm giving this one 3 1/2 stars because it was funny, Cameron Diaz is smokin' hot, the story wasn't entirely predictable, and it was funny enough that you didn't care about the predictable parts, and it was funny seeing several of my old teachers being portrayed by famous actors and actresses. And also, it's debatable whether anyone got hit in the nuts or not, because Cameron Diaz's bean ball to a 7th grade boy hit somewhere between his balls and stomach and they never actually indicate whether she racked him or not. And she got beaned right back dead in the face after that, anyway.
Rating: 3 1/2 stars
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the adjustment bureau
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