Cool Beans

Funny Hotties Entry

I recently perused an album dedicated to a guy's obsession with girls that curled their hair. It was..interesting? Can't snark too much on it since I was the lame-o actually bored enough to go through it. Anyway, whatever gets him off, I guess.

Which segues into my personal obsession (yes, another). Mainly, super hot actors posting hilarious videos on funny or die. Or more precisely, super hot Ryan Reynolds and James Franco posting anything online.

First: Ryan's Huffington Post Blog

Second:

Sandra Bullock & Ryan Reynolds: Behind the Scenes of The Proposal from Betty White

Third:

The Hills with James Franco and Mila Kunis from James Franco

Star Trek

Fantastic (as expected). Fun, exciting, funny, great performances, blah blah blah. It's all been said and done. Even the new awkward lust I kind of have for Spock has been noted (EW.com beat me to the punch). Quinto was all kinds of hot even with the pointy ears, bizarre eyebrows, and bad bowl cut.
On the geek side, I now know what the hell people are talking about when discussing the terms: "Vulcan Nerve Pinch", "Red Shirt", and "Kobayashi Maru." I also spent a good 20 minutes explaining to Nick the difference between the original Star Trek and TNG. He thought Uhara was a female version of the guy from Reading Rainbows and Leonard Nimoy was actually Patrick Stewart and liked boobs a lot.


Just realized that the people who wrote Transformers also wrote Star Trek. Ha. Gotta admire my consistency.

Miss Pole Dance World 2009

Is Amazing.

X-men Weekend

Wolverine was as expected. Too much story, too many mutants, and ridiculously short, unimaginative fight sequences (i.e. Sabertooth charges on all fours when him and Wolverine get stabby with each other - fun seeing it the first time, a bit tiring the fourth time around). If you've seen the trailer, you've pretty much saw all the action (minus the final Weapon XI sequence, which was...okay). In addition, HOW many missed opportunities to kill William Stryker can the writers create? One comic book plot device I can always do without: the "I have the evil villain at my mercy but I won't kill him because I won't sink down to his level." Come ON.

Pros of the film: Better than X3 (not hard). Ryan Reynolds and Gambit appropriately chewed the scenery to my liking (though I'm extremely biased when it comes to those two). Hugh Jackman's still solid as Wolverine.


On a more positive note, X-men Animated Series DVDs finally came out (Thanks Gordon!), and the 10 years since I've caught the reruns on tv still hasn't marred the awesomeness in terms of viewing. It also reignited the anger feelings over how much they raped Rogue's characterization in the movies. Completely doing away with the Mystique-adoption/Ms. Marvel absorption storyline? Lame! LAAAAME! On the flip-side, watching the kid-oriented cartoon does make me appreciate the satisfaction of watching Wolverine actually STAB flesh and heal from his wounds in "real life". It's such a cop out watching him insist on stomping on Sabertooth just to satisfy the FCC. Yeah, that'll teach him.

Gene Spa or Why I'll Never Work Out in Public

Review- My dad's face pain face:
My pain face (and sharp non-pigment contrast):

Anecdote Behind the Dad Picture Search

With my new recent foray into attempted ripness, I can't help but be concerned that out of the severe multitude of traits I've inherited from my father (i.e. the above and all dorky awkwardness), his approach to exercising is one I can do without.

Now, my dad's pretty good at being active. He goes on hikes, walks, swims, plays tennis in the morning, all that good stuff. Of course, being my dad and not giving two craps about what people think, he always proceeds to do it with whatever second-hand 10 year old clothing choice my mother picks out for him. Case in point, the gigantic Fob visor complete with embroidered fancy flower print. Or the super tight Speedo swim shorts with neon blue striping. In general, mildly embarrassing, but still falls under the "what parents usually come up with to mortify their oversensitive children" category.

The cause for worry typically comes around when he suddenly comes up with some newfangled "routine" all on his own that will get him his daily dose of cardio and strength training. I've heard it's pretty common around Asian men my dad's generation to harbor a ridiculous stubborn streak, so the conviction that he has that some random technique he comes up with will work? There's no way of breaking it. Including taking my 5 lb. dumbbells and flailing around in all directions while watching his NCAA game. Nick tells me I need to go into stealth mode and steal them away from him to preserve his dignity. But where's the fun in that?

Sample Dad Quote: "I'm working out my arms, Alice! Look how good I am!" (General cockiness apparently goes hand in hand with the stubbornness).
Me: "You're not doing it right, dad. You need to keep your upper arm still."
Default response to any criticism: "This is the engineer way!"

As amusing as that is, the tipping point of full blown genetic panic actually occurred during the winter time a few years back, when my dad's intense fear of catching a cold meant finding an alternative to his freezing walks. So, brilliant mind he is, he decided, what better exercise is there than performing "laps" in the 5-ft diameter spa? Of course, this meant that every morning while eating breakfast, I was privy to the scene of him splashing furiously with his arms and feet, complete with intense goggle induced muffin top hair bobbing action. Basically, for a period of one month, he was our personal mini tidal-wave creating machine in the backyard. An ongoing game I had with my mom was guessing how low the water level would be after my dad was done with his moving-but-not-really spazzing routine. Thankfully, this particular display of the engineering way, though impermeable to continuous fat jokes from smart-ass family members, was no match for the balance of the water heating bill. Frugality beats Stubbornness on most days, I guess. Now to figure out a way to convince him using 5 lbs weights is bad for his wallet.

Epic Fail

Yesterday was the first day of P90X. The basic breakdown of activity:

40% spastic jerking. I'm too busy staring at the tv, trying to match my uncoordinated limbs to what Pam the Blam is doing and failing miserably. How are you supposed to keep your eye on the target and see what's going on at the same time? Focus on form, my ass.

40% flailing and collapsing. My bunny hop was basically a panting Grapevine shuffle. The superman pose translated to my personal interpretation of a human Twinkie (I'd say log, but even wood is probably in better shape than I am now). Lending further hand to the indignity of my soft, mushy unathleticism was the fact that with every face plant I endured from a failed push-up, I got the added bonus of being covered from head to toe in dog hair. Time to vacuum.

10% gawking. I don't care what the infomercial says. There is NO WAY in hell I'm ever going to get around to doing a Chattanooga running push up.

I knew I was in for trouble when my butt started hurting all sorts of severe during the basic warm up. To think, I was haranguing myself for failing to steal back my weights from my dad. Ha. What a joke.

Results: arms and legs are pretty sore today. I can only imagine what it'd be like if I actually did the recommended number of reps (correctly).


Whoo Sharks!

[edit] Jess kindly noted that I've lost all ability to count to 100. I blame it on lactic buildup around my brain.