Bridesmaids Revisited

Here’s a little bonus for all you wedding guests who loved the movie and couldn’t get enough of it. Click on this Bridesmaids outake video and see a few scenes that didn’t make the film. Talk about an embarrassment of riches! Some of the deleted scenes are even funnier than the film.

Warning: this link takes you to Perez Hilton’s site and the scenes are definitely not work-approved. Do not attempt to watch if you’re in an open area where everyone can watch you watching Jon Hamm talk reeeeally dirty to Kristin Wiig.

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Bridesmaids

Watching your friends get married is an experience fraught with potential disaster. You might be thrilled with the dress but hate the groom. Or allergic to the hors d’oeuvres and related to the groom. Or even jealous of the bride and have slept with the groom. No matter what the circumstances are, you know it’s going to be complicated, time-consuming and expensive. Continue reading

Thor in 3D!

I had the day all mapped out in my head. I would get up early, go for a long walk, whip up an egg white omelette with fresh asparagus, and then spend the rest of the rainy afternoon at the movies immersed in the fascinating new documentary Cave of Forgotten Dreams. I mean, what’s more fun than a Werner Herzog film about cave drawings!

Outlines are not always filled in the way we expect, however, and sometimes we just have to go with the flow. In this case, the flow was sort of like the Mississippi at full-flood stage, and it washed me over the levee into a Five Guys for a cheeseburger and then floated me right into a 3D showing of Thor. Self-improvement was going to have to wait for a drier day, because the God of Thunder made me forget about Werner’s cave drawings momentarily. Continue reading

Happy Mother’s Day!

I inherited a lot of things from my mother. I got the fat Italian skin, my artistic abilities, a love of reading and a sarcastic stream of consciousness that runs through every relationship I have (including this blog). I have only one memory of her actually throwing up, so I don’t think I can credit her with the genetic connection for my queasiness.

The vomiting memory is more of a family story, because I was too young to have actually witnessed it. Legend says that my mom, my three sisters and I were returning from an amusement park island in the middle of the Detroit river known as Bob-Lo Island. The Bob-Lo steamer was a huge Show Boat type ferry, and whether it was heat, choppy waves or just too much time on a carousel with four extremely talkative little girls, mom started to feel nauseous. Not wanting to draw attention to herself or make a mess, she then proceeded to throw up in her purse. I don’t know why she didn’t just lean over the railing like everybody else. I just hope she took her keys out before yakking.

She died a few years ago, and I miss her a lot. I sometimes wonder what her reaction to this website would be. I would have to turn the computer on for her and find the site, for she had no interest whatsoever in learning how. She would look at a few entries, check the spelling in the columns and make sure I was having fun doing it. Then she would laugh at the fact that I had actually included a story about her where she threw up in her purse, make herself a drink and a slice of bologna rolled up around some cottage cheese, and lie down on the couch to “rest her eyes.”

Happy Mother’s Day memories to all of us who are missing our moms, and to all the moms who are still here creating new ones. After brunch, why not take her to a movie? Here’s a list of the Top Ten Movies about Mothers compiled by some cheesy website. Or you could take her to see Thor. He’s the God of Thunder and apparently spends a lot of time with his shirt off. I bet she’d like it more than Stepmom.

Hanna

Once upon a time, there was a fair young maiden who live in a tiny cabin deep in a snowy wood. The girl had eyes like star sapphires and long flowing locks, and she often wandered through the forest communing with nature. One day she came across a huge elk gracefully wading through the knee-high snow in a meadow. She paused to admire the carriage of this majestic animal, and as little blue birds sang above her head, pulled out a crossbow and dropped the beast with one arrow. Then she cocked an automatic pistol and drilled it in the head, just to be certain. If the Big Bad Wolf was watching this, he wet his pants and got the hell out of there, because this beauty owned the hood and this was certainly not Hoodwinked, Too. Continue reading