Okay, I can’t let it go.

This movie DISTURBED ME.

Here’s the review I posted on IMDB. If anyone sees this movie and comes away with a different view, please, PLEASE, let me know.

This movie had potential.

Unfortunately it tuned into a story with too many stereotypes, clichés, and messages to count. It lost focus.

I’m not sure what I expected from the previews other than a sweet story and a few laugh out loud moments.(I got to laugh out loud, but for the wrong reasons.)

The setting was Antartica, right? So why was the Penguin leader Scottish? And why did we have the country bumpkin Penguin and the LATINO Penguins? And when I say it was full of stereotypes–trust me. You don’t want to see the leader slap the Latino Penguin and tell him
to go back to his side of the world where he came from.

Not to mention Mumble (Happy Feet) being told not to do his dance thing because he’s different. “It’s just not penguin.” Different is bad. Different isn’t welcome here. But Mumble says he can’t change and asks them to accept him the way he was born. So the dad blames himself for
making him different. And I never felt that was truly resolved to a point a kid would understand.

This movie is anti-any-religion but Christian as well. The tall Penguins worship their god “The Great Wind” and the Latino Penguins have Lovelace. Both are proved to be “false gods” when Mumbles returns to his home. And what is the first structure then Penguins see when they get to the human side of the world? A Church. Yup.

And if anyone can sit through the traumatic scene of watching Lovelace tossed about between two Orcas by the six-pack plastic rings around his neck without wincing, then I’m amazed. Every adult knows that penguin would’ve been dead. Of course, he lived…but that was honestly the
worst thing I’ve watched in animation before.

And lets not forget how dark and disturbing this movie is. There were several kids under the age of 6 who were terrified in some spots. And bored in others. It’s wildly inappropriate for anyone under the age of 7.

One last comment before I get off my soap box. This movie had a good message to deliver, if it would’ve just delivered it. It could’ve been a great “anti-polution” movie and global warming educator. Instead, it was depressing (yes, depressing)and preachy. It was a lesson in how
not to do an animated film. If you want to show your children a good anti-pollution story–see Ferngully.

Okay, I can’t let it go.

This movie DISTURBED ME.

Here’s the review I posted on IMDB. If anyone sees this movie and comes away with a different view, please, PLEASE, let me know.

This movie had potential.

Unfortunately it tuned into a story with too many stereotypes, clichés, and messages to count. It lost focus.

I’m not sure what I expected from the previews other than a sweet story and a few laugh out loud moments.(I got to laugh out loud, but for the wrong reasons.)

The setting was Antartica, right? So why was the Penguin leader Scottish? And why did we have the country bumpkin Penguin and the LATINO Penguins? And when I say it was full of stereotypes–trust me. You don’t want to see the leader slap the Latino Penguin and tell him
to go back to his side of the world where he came from.

Not to mention Mumble (Happy Feet) being told not to do his dance thing because he’s different. “It’s just not penguin.” Different is bad. Different isn’t welcome here. But Mumble says he can’t change and asks them to accept him the way he was born. So the dad blames himself for
making him different. And I never felt that was truly resolved to a point a kid would understand.

This movie is anti-any-religion but Christian as well. The tall Penguins worship their god “The Great Wind” and the Latino Penguins have Lovelace. Both are proved to be “false gods” when Mumbles returns to his home. And what is the first structure then Penguins see when they get to the human side of the world? A Church. Yup.

And if anyone can sit through the traumatic scene of watching Lovelace tossed about between two Orcas by the six-pack plastic rings around his neck without wincing, then I’m amazed. Every adult knows that penguin would’ve been dead. Of course, he lived…but that was honestly the
worst thing I’ve watched in animation before.

And lets not forget how dark and disturbing this movie is. There were several kids under the age of 6 who were terrified in some spots. And bored in others. It’s wildly inappropriate for anyone under the age of 7.

One last comment before I get off my soap box. This movie had a good message to deliver, if it would’ve just delivered it. It could’ve been a great “anti-polution” movie and global warming educator. Instead, it was depressing (yes, depressing)and preachy. It was a lesson in how
not to do an animated film. If you want to show your children a good anti-pollution story–see Ferngully.

That’s right, my little Piggies clinched the SEC West title today! Now they’ll play Florida Gators in the championship game.

As I said to my friend Marley, we’ll give the Gators some sweet pork ass to chomp on…that’s all they’re gonna see as the great #5 carries that ball all the way to Victory Street!

Woo Pig Sooie!

Now, on another note entirely:

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, SUBJECT YOURSELF TO THE MOVIE (not so) HAPPY FEET. Unless of course you like a movie that is slow on the uptake, full of clichés, and tries too hard to teach too many lessons. If I could give this movie a negative rating, I would.

And when I’m talking about clichés, I mean BAD ones. Like having Latino Penguins who are slapped and told to go back to their side of the world where they belong. Yeah. Great message there.

The only good thing about the movie is the music and the occasional laugh out loud joke by Robin Williams. That’s it.

I want those two hours back. I’d rather eat toenails than go through that again.

Painful.

Oh. So. Painful.

Not so happy.

That’s right, my little Piggies clinched the SEC West title today! Now they’ll play Florida Gators in the championship game.

As I said to my friend Marley, we’ll give the Gators some sweet pork ass to chomp on…that’s all they’re gonna see as the great #5 carries that ball all the way to Victory Street!

Woo Pig Sooie!

Now, on another note entirely:

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, SUBJECT YOURSELF TO THE MOVIE (not so) HAPPY FEET. Unless of course you like a movie that is slow on the uptake, full of clichés, and tries too hard to teach too many lessons. If I could give this movie a negative rating, I would.

And when I’m talking about clichés, I mean BAD ones. Like having Latino Penguins who are slapped and told to go back to their side of the world where they belong. Yeah. Great message there.

The only good thing about the movie is the music and the occasional laugh out loud joke by Robin Williams. That’s it.

I want those two hours back. I’d rather eat toenails than go through that again.

Painful.

Oh. So. Painful.

Not so happy.

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, (for the moment) admitted to me today that she really, really wanted to post her secret lurve on my blog, but then decided it was best not to.

So, I made her confess it to me.

O. M. G.

I seriously might’ve kept it to myself, too. Poor girl. She had a crush on Billy Ray Cyrus. And I’m not talking about the Billy Ray of today (which, admittedly, is MUCHO! better than the Billy Ray of yore). I’m talking about the super-mullet-achy-breaky-heart-it-could’ve-been-me Billy Ray.

Okay, he’s always looked like the redneck George Michael to me. Anyone else see the resemblence? Or maybe George Michael was the mullet-less Billy Ray? Hmmm. Who knows? I do know that of the two, GM was much sexier than BR. (back then. and if I had to choose. which I don’t, thank God) Of course, I think it’s the mullet thing that throws me. BR of today has no mullet…and I think he could be sexy if he weren’t, you know, Billy Ray.

But I digress. My friend, who still remains nameless because as she says she’s still single and really doesn’t need this strike against her, had a crush on super mullet BR. I know, she was young. I mean, we’ve all had private crushes on someone that we’ve been (maybe) a little embarrassed about. (I suppose now is the time I could confess that I have had a crush on Eminem (or Marshall Mathers, depending on who you talk to) In my defense, look at that body! How could you not have a crush on him?

Anyway, my anonymous co-worker had a crush on Super Mullet Man when she was a kid. I suppose that is enough to forgive her. I didn’t have a crush on Eminem until I was an adult…but then I have always had a thing for younger men. (Sorry Fishdog)

And I did (do) like Air Supply. And Barry Manilow. And a few others who shall remain nameless (like my friend) unless I have another beverage tonight. I guess what I’m saying is, I shouldn’t cast stones. (Though I’m throwing some fuckin’ stones…I don’t care. Billy Ray!!??)

okay, I’m gonna switch gears for a second.

Today was a good day (except for at work–ugh–I’m a little behind). Anyway, it was good because Simon emailed me. It was great to hear from him. We chat about once every 10 days or so, but the email was nice. His knee is better and he had a training session with Birmingham City. Plus, he’s coaching two teams. A U-12 team and a ladies’ team.

I actually chatted with both of my lads today. Grant has been working a lot. He’s only been “out” three times since he’s been home. Poor baby. We chat a couple of times a week.

I love hearing from both of them. I miss them both terribly. Ridiculous, really. I look forward to talking to them on the phone again soon. Not that I’ll be able to understand them–especially Simon and that awful (I mean fantastic) Brummie accent. But it’ll be great to hear their voices.

It’s awesome to know they still care–that they want to keep in touch.

Okay, I’m sentimental tonight. I blame it on the pish (as my dear wee laddie, Grant, calls it); I mean–the Pale Ale.

Oops, I just admitted to drunk blogging. Where’s Miss Feisty when you need her? Oh yeah…Pebble Beach.

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, (for the moment) admitted to me today that she really, really wanted to post her secret lurve on my blog, but then decided it was best not to.

So, I made her confess it to me.

O. M. G.

I seriously might’ve kept it to myself, too. Poor girl. She had a crush on Billy Ray Cyrus. And I’m not talking about the Billy Ray of today (which, admittedly, is MUCHO! better than the Billy Ray of yore). I’m talking about the super-mullet-achy-breaky-heart-it-could’ve-been-me Billy Ray.

Okay, he’s always looked like the redneck George Michael to me. Anyone else see the resemblence? Or maybe George Michael was the mullet-less Billy Ray? Hmmm. Who knows? I do know that of the two, GM was much sexier than BR. (back then. and if I had to choose. which I don’t, thank God) Of course, I think it’s the mullet thing that throws me. BR of today has no mullet…and I think he could be sexy if he weren’t, you know, Billy Ray.

But I digress. My friend, who still remains nameless because as she says she’s still single and really doesn’t need this strike against her, had a crush on super mullet BR. I know, she was young. I mean, we’ve all had private crushes on someone that we’ve been (maybe) a little embarrassed about. (I suppose now is the time I could confess that I have had a crush on Eminem (or Marshall Mathers, depending on who you talk to) In my defense, look at that body! How could you not have a crush on him?

Anyway, my anonymous co-worker had a crush on Super Mullet Man when she was a kid. I suppose that is enough to forgive her. I didn’t have a crush on Eminem until I was an adult…but then I have always had a thing for younger men. (Sorry Fishdog)

And I did (do) like Air Supply. And Barry Manilow. And a few others who shall remain nameless (like my friend) unless I have another beverage tonight. I guess what I’m saying is, I shouldn’t cast stones. (Though I’m throwing some fuckin’ stones…I don’t care. Billy Ray!!??)

okay, I’m gonna switch gears for a second.

Today was a good day (except for at work–ugh–I’m a little behind). Anyway, it was good because Simon emailed me. It was great to hear from him. We chat about once every 10 days or so, but the email was nice. His knee is better and he had a training session with Birmingham City. Plus, he’s coaching two teams. A U-12 team and a ladies’ team.

I actually chatted with both of my lads today. Grant has been working a lot. He’s only been “out” three times since he’s been home. Poor baby. We chat a couple of times a week.

I love hearing from both of them. I miss them both terribly. Ridiculous, really. I look forward to talking to them on the phone again soon. Not that I’ll be able to understand them–especially Simon and that awful (I mean fantastic) Brummie accent. But it’ll be great to hear their voices.

It’s awesome to know they still care–that they want to keep in touch.

Okay, I’m sentimental tonight. I blame it on the pish (as my dear wee laddie, Grant, calls it); I mean–the Pale Ale.

Oops, I just admitted to drunk blogging. Where’s Miss Feisty when you need her? Oh yeah…Pebble Beach.

I totally listened to some Air Supply this morning. And you know what? I loved every second of it.

I was in 6th grade when Air Supply came to Little Rock, AR. It was my very first concert and my momma took me. She figured it was Air Supply–should be pretty tame. Imagine Mom’s shock when the girl sitting next to her asked permission to smoke a joint.

See, Air Supply fans had manners. I don’t remember anyone at the miriad of concerts I attended after that asking MY permission to smoke a joint…

Anyway, now that y’all are laughing your ass off at the fact that I’m outing my love affair with Air Supply–let me ask you something. What’s your secret and possibly embarrassing lurve? Come on…you can share. I won’t tell a soul. Really.

I totally listened to some Air Supply this morning. And you know what? I loved every second of it.

I was in 6th grade when Air Supply came to Little Rock, AR. It was my very first concert and my momma took me. She figured it was Air Supply–should be pretty tame. Imagine Mom’s shock when the girl sitting next to her asked permission to smoke a joint.

See, Air Supply fans had manners. I don’t remember anyone at the miriad of concerts I attended after that asking MY permission to smoke a joint…

Anyway, now that y’all are laughing your ass off at the fact that I’m outing my love affair with Air Supply–let me ask you something. What’s your secret and possibly embarrassing lurve? Come on…you can share. I won’t tell a soul. Really.

Just the other night I teased you with a vague announcement of congratulations for a dear sweet and very naughty friend of mine…

Well, break out the real bubbly because Naughty Kate Pearce is officially an Aphrodisia Author!

I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Kate is super special and nobody deserves it more.

Way to go, my friend. I can’t wait to share a glass of bubbly with you in person this summer.

xx

Just the other night I teased you with a vague announcement of congratulations for a dear sweet and very naughty friend of mine…

Well, break out the real bubbly because Naughty Kate Pearce is officially an Aphrodisia Author!

I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Kate is super special and nobody deserves it more.

Way to go, my friend. I can’t wait to share a glass of bubbly with you in person this summer.

xx