Tag Archives: Ryan Gosling

Bradley Vs. Ryan And The Winner is…. Fat Vince Vaughn

According to People Magazine, the world’s sexiest man in 2011 is Bradley Cooper.  This has some crazy hos with their panties in a knot making a petition saying that it should be Ryan Gosling.  They have point in that it is Ryan Gosling’s year since he had a bunch of films out AND he has a rescue dog.  I have a rescue dog.  We all should have rescue dogs by the way.  Bradley Cooper, on the other hand, may or may not have a dog but he can speak French. Apparently he impressed the judges with his interview on French radio nattering away, using far too many syllables as French are wont to do, just tell the people of France to go and see his new movie.  Here it is, lock your bedroom door and set your laptop on vibrate:

And here he is without a shirt:

As my friend from Newfoundland used to say when she encountered a man she liked:  “I’d do you for a dollar!”  I’m not really sure if it meant she would give him a dollar or she would charge him a dollar?  But whichever, there’s no flies on Bradley Cooper  so I don’t really see the problem.  I would do him for a dollar any which way.  Maybe Ryan Gosling is just so hot he is going to make the Sexiest Man of the Universe.  Or maybe People magazine didn’t want to use another Canadian, wasn’t it that other Ryan with abs just recently the title holder?  Americans have slight contempt for our country because we pay high taxes for health care and it makes them crazy with jealousy and confusion.  But we send them our hunks and throw in Justin Bieber as goodwill measures and yet they still mock us with that  “Oot and Aboot” accent that nobody really has.  But for whatever reason, I say let People magazine have their sexy Bradley for 2011.

As for moi, I have a hard time getting excited over any movie star really.  I just can’t get past the idea is that what they do for a living is make-believe ridiculousness.  And they think it’s so important, like when they call what they do “work” and it’s a “craft.”  Dear George Clooney and Brad Pitt,  I tell you what work is:  getting up milking cows, and a craft is carving a pig out of a mound of butter.  Please, get a grip, even your vernacular says you “play” a role.  Plus you wear make up, that is so not hot.  Although if I did have to pick a movie star to have around my house, it would have to be Vince Vaughn.  Not the coked up Vince Vaughn from the 90s like he was in Swingers, but the fat Vince Vaughn from The Break Up.  Have you ever had a conversation with a man who has a six-pack of abs?  It’s so tedious to hear about carb and protein ratio and there is nothing so sad as someone who separates the egg whites and throws the yolk away.  You have to wonder then:  What else won’t he eat?

Vince Vaughn looks like someone who would eat my pie.  And everything else.  And look, he would it standing up, tell me this isn’t hot:

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Drive: The Satin Jacket Rules

This isn’t a film review *per se* so don’t get anxious, I will turn this off into a tangent that we can all enjoy. But I did see “Drive” and I am obsessing over it. I’m not going to give stuff away even though you probably will never see it and if you saw it, you scratched your head and said: “Meh! It wasn’t all that!” Or if you were like my friend, Sean, you tweeted out into the universe: “#Drive was shit!” But I loved this movie in an “anchovy way”, and I will explain this metaphor. There was weirdness, it was awkward in parts, and clichéd with all the obvious character archetypes, but it had style, heart, and a mission. The heist-gone-awry genre never gets old. It can be comedic or film-noir. This movie was a bit of the latter and completely mirthless. Normally I hate dour films: Black Swan, Blechhh-erinas. But Drive stars Ryan Gosling: The Panty Creamer of the Decade, maybe even the millennium. He is different in everything he does but he always oozes coolness. EVEN WHEN HE IS WEARING A WHITE SATIN QUILTED BOMBER JACKET WITH A SCORPION EMBROIDERED ON THE BACK! What was up with that? And when was the last time you went to a movie and said to yourself: “Why is the font on the credits so inappropriate?” THE FONT! You shouldn’t really be noticing font. But it was pink, girly 80s style (see movie poster above), as was the bomber jacket. And so was the soundtrack. If it weren’t for the cars and the cellphones, I would have thought it was a period piece and Eddie Murphy would appear. The retro vibe of this movie was almost too distracting, but who am I to judge? I am right now wearing a dolman sleeve sweater with rhinestones on the front. The fact that the white satin scorpion jacket kept getting bloody and clean again made me start thinking that it was more a symbol, a hero costume of sorts. At one point, Driver brings up the tale of the scorpion and the frog but doesn’t elaborate because he is mostly mute and barely strings two sentences together. Aesop Fable Wiki recap: The scorpion negotiates a ride on the frog’s back to get him across the stream but stings him half-way, putting both their lives in peril. “Why did you do that?” asks the frog, and the scorpion replies, “Because it is in my nature.” Is Ryan Gosling the scorpion with the stinging nature or do we take it literally and he is the frog with the scorpion on his back? I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS ALL THE WAY HOME!

So many things about this movie bothered me that I had an epiphany. Why do we have to “like” things? And why does everything have to be so pleasant? Do our lives just have LOL along without conflict? When I first time I had an anchovy, all bare naked out of a tin, I thought it was out-of-this world disgusting but it had such an impact on me that I thought about it long after I ate it. The strange hairy texture, the extreme saltiness, and how it was dry and oily at the same time, I had to have it again. In the right context, on a Pizza Neapolitan sunk into a bed of mozzarella with some black olives on the side, an anchovy is a two thumbs up. Anchovies are bacon of the sea. You can quote me.

I thought more about the anchovy theory and how it applies to relationships. The other day, a friend told me I should try on-line dating with a certain dating site that we might as well call “eNo-Anchovies-Please.” eNAP, for short. If you have been following this blog, you might know I am part dog and only interested in the sense of smell (not just the anus!) when picking a mate. But my friend said: “No, eNAP is different, is based on compatibility and they match you with people with the same traits and values!”

“So it’s a Sure Thing?’ I asked.

“Pretty much. They ask you a bunch of questions, and through the magic of science, they send you only people who are suitable,” she explained. This is how she met the dude is seeing right now (it’s been 2 years!) and even though she has a job where she meets hundreds of people a month, her sense of smell didn’t do the trick. She seems happy with this guy but she is one of those women that anyone would want to be around. In fact, I love spending time with her, that I would be more than thrilled to be her anchovy. It might be too salty at first, but we’d get used to it.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had already tried eNAP last year, when they had a free Labour Day weekend (eNap costs money, which makes it more legit than the free dating sites). My matchups were really uninteresting to me. It was a depressing reflection of myself, perhaps. If I wanted compatibility, why not just stand in front of the mirror, eat a Pizza Neapolitan, and then do that secret thing I like to do with my ears when I’m alone? Do I want sameness? Or do I want someone who irks me enough to say “Why are you wearing that stupid satin jacket?” I think I’d rather be part of a scenario that was not so contrived, and more incongruous, like maybe a frog with a scorpion on its shoulders windsurfing on an anchovy’s back. In any case, it’s all about getting out of your comfort zone, I guess.

Enough of my ruminations…just go see “Drive!” Let me know what you think!