The First Annual Stee Awards.

The winners:

...I was on set shooting most of the weekend, and at some point people were talking about pets and I said that I'd love to have me a finger monkey. They were all: what? And I explained how there are little tiny monkeys that are so small they can just cling onto your finger... so ostensibly, you could walk around with 10 finger monkeys at one time, each holding onto a finger. I was shocked to learn that no one had heard of finger monkeys... nay, no one believed me at all! So during a break I searched the net for half an hour, finally coming up with these:

(they're actually called Pygmy Marmosets)

Naturally, after they saw the pictures, everyone was all saying how they too want finger monkeys. Stupid me, because that's only going to make my chances of ever getting a finger monkey all that more remote, because of the competition. Damn!

Finally...

...I could not be happier with the hideous reviews Travolta's pet Scientology movie project Battlefield Earth is getting.

The Los Angeles Times calls it, "a wholly miserable experience... 'Battlefield Earth' makes 'Waterworld' look like a masterpiece."

The Washington Post says, "A million monkeys with a million crayons would be hard-pressed in a million years to create anything as cretinous as "Battlefield Earth." This film version of L. Ron Hubbard's futuristic novel is so breathtakingly awful in concept and execution, it wouldn't tax the smarts of a troglodyte...Travolta, whose hubris propelled the project, is godawful, prancing around like a peacock at an egg roll.... If "Battlefield Earth," which is less sophisticated than most Saturday morning cartoons, is about anything, it's Hubbard's paranoia--that he was being watched, lied to and spied upon and that some psychiatrist might one day be able to say, 'Honey, I shrunk L. Ron Hubbard's head.'"

From Roger Ebert: "'Battlefield Earth' is like taking a bus trip with someone who has needed a bath for a long time. It's not merely bad; it's unpleasant in a hostile way. The visuals are grubby and drab. The characters are unkempt and have rotten teeth. Breathing tubes hang from their noses like ropes of snot. The soundtrack sounds like the boom mike is being slammed against the inside of a 55-gallon drum. The plot... But let me catch my breath. This movie is awful in so many different ways. Even the opening titles are cheesy. Sci-fi epics usually begin with a stab at impressive titles, but this one just displays green letters on the screen in a type font that came with my Macintosh. Then the movie's subtitle unscrolls from left to right in the kind of "effect" you see in home movies... The film contains no evidence of Scientology or any other system of thought; it is shapeless and senseless, without a compelling plot or characters we care for in the slightest... Some movies run off the rails. This one is like the train crash in "The Fugitive." I watched it in mounting gloom, realizing I was witnessing something historic, a film that for decades to come will be the punch line of jokes about bad movies."

And Elvis Mitchell, of the New York Times dubs the movie, "beyond conventional criticism". He goes on to say, "'Man is an endangered species,' announces one of the titles at the beginning of the sci-fi lump "Battlefield Earth." And after about 20 minutes of this amateurish picture, extinction doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Sitting through it is like watching the most expensively mounted high school play of all time. The film is stocked with evil aliens who, in their padded body stockings, plastic armorlike fittings and matted hair extensions, resemble nothing so much as members of GWAR, the metal-rock parodists that Beavis and Butt-head loved. It may be a bit early to make such judgments, but "Battlefield Earth" may well turn out to be the worst movie of this century."

Hee hee hee.

ONE YEAR AGO TODAY: Slept. Dreamt of bunnies and sheep and then bunnies and sheep playing craps and then bunnies and sheep flying over downtown Salt Lake City and then bunnies and sheep making me breakfast without even being asked, but then I woke up and there was a cat sleeping on my face, so, you know, it all made sense.

The Larry King Happy Song Corner

 
 
Hey Nineteen, that's Aretha Franklin. She don't remember the Queen of Soul. It's hard times befallen the sole survivors. She thinks I'm crazy, but I'm just growing old. Hey Nineteen. No we got nothing in common. No we can't talk at all. Please take me along when you slide on down. The Cuervo Gold. The fine Colombian. Make tonight a wonderful thing. We can't dance together. No we can't talk at all. ... speaking of which. My wife thinks I'm crazy, but I'm just wearing my PJ's around the house and talking to the wall... but then again she's a schiksa. So what can you expect, you know?
 
 
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