This is it. All the posts to the Film Pigs site in one giant, cumbersome list.
NEW YORK – Matthew McConaughey says the birth of his son will help bring a little joy to others in the world someday. The actor kept the placenta from the July birth of his son and plans to plant it in an orchard, he tells CNN’s “House Call with Dr. Sanjay Gupta” in interview scheduled to air in two parts Aug. 9 and Aug 16.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080808/ap_on_en_mo/people_matthew_mcconaughey
Really, does anything else need to be said?
“”Hostel” director Eli Roth is on deck to play a baseball bat-swinging Nazi hunter in “Inglorious Bastards,” the Quentin Tarantino-directed drama that begins production this fall in Europe for the Weinstein Co. and Universal Pictures.”
I guess one way to shield yourself from charges of being a douchebag attention-whore director who has no fucking business acting is to preemptively cast another douchebag attention-whore director who has no fucking business acting.
Dearest, purest Marissa,
You can do a lot better love letter-wise than nonsense promises made by Steve Falk at the end of commentaries that he couldn’t stand doing even though they’re completely his own damn fault, but here goes. (And this is the last one I’m doing, anyone else who insists on sending angry demands, sitting through the Bratz commentary in its entirety is really your fault, not mine. And I’m tired of writing love letters. I know this is only my second one, but don’t you understand? I’m so very tired.) I figure since you are such a Pigs fan, Marissa, and clearly the same kind of movie junkie that we are, the best kind of sweet nothings I can whisper in your innocent ears are warnings about lame movies you may not have yet seen. (If you have, well, again not my fault.) Continue reading The X-Files: I Just Want to Leave (A love letter for Marissa)
This one got killed by YouTube, probably a copyright violation for that Jane’s Addiction song we used to use.
I’m writing this on my iPhone via the new WordPress app. Pretty killer. Though it’s tough to write on this tiny screen with my giant Shaq hands, I’d much rather be staring at this screen than one showing the smug and snoozy indie The Wackness. It’s about a high school senior in Manhattan in 1994 and tells the story of the poor Upper East Side kid feeling sad because he can’t get laid, his parents are fighting, and his underbite keeps getting in the way of his garbled whiteboy Yo slang. He spends his time hanging with two older guys with terrible fake accents and a serious predilliction for chewing scenery, Method Man and Ghandi. Ghandi is also his shrink who smokes pot when mumble-over-acting because he has no idea why his character is in the film gets too tiring. Then he gets back at his Famke Jamke wife for being a catatonic chain-smoker by making out with one of the Olsen twins. The kid hooks up with Ghandi’s giant tedious slut-monster of a stepdaughter who naturally ends up hurting his feelings. She also gets to explain the title, telling Kid that while she sees the “dopeness” in the world, he just sees the “wackness.” If you don’t now want to punch this girl in the vag, be my guest and go see the flick.
