Monday, April 30, 2007

"One for Zoo, Please."

Contrary to popular opinion, I've always thought the beauty of living in Manhattan isn't the bevy of constant options at your disposal; the real beauty lies in how quickly you can change your pace.

Let's take Saturday, for example: One minute Hoobs and I were on my couch watching Mariano Rivera notch his first save of the 2007 season, the literal next we were sitting in a fairly crowded theater about to watch a critically acclaimed documentary about...horse-fucking. Yes, and I still can't get the V-Chip scene from the South Park move out of my head. Horse-fuckah.

At 7:59 we decided to check the listings at the IFC Center around the corner from my apartment, and by 8:05 we were in poorly padded seats about to be regaled with completely real, first-person stories about man-on-equine love.

The film centers around a weekender bestiality group of men that suffered from practiced zoophilia in a Washington state suburb. The horse-fucking outfit eventually comes under intense scrutiny when perhaps its most normal member dies of horse-fucking-related internal injuries. Without spoiling it, because I know so many of youse will head out to see it this week, the Zoo documentary does an excellent job of not only presenting a story many people never thought they'd have even the slightest sympathy for, but also immersing you into something so abnormal and forcing you to actually consider the thoughts going through the heads of these particular men.

It's really well done in that regard, and since we saw it in the Village, I'd be willing to bet 75 percent of the theater was full of sexual deviants, half of whom may or may not be horse-fuckers themselves (and that smug-lookin' horse with the trenchcoat that walked in and sat down to our right definitely fucked dudes).

More to that last parenthetical: About halfway through the film I came to a startling revelation that this wasn't just about a group of dudes fucking horses. This stable of men also took it from the horses. I'm not judging in any way, I'm just unveiling my complete naivete when it comes to the meshing of horsecock with man-anus. The gentleman that died that night two years ago didn't get kicked by the horse or anything like that -- he suffered a perforated colon and died of internal bleeding. When I found that out I started planning the sequel, Zoo II: Puncturing This Sentence's Colon As Well.

Strangely, I'm actually going to recommend this film. It's not every day you're thrown into a world so outside your own comfort zone, and in an increasingly partisan and self-centered society, we can all stand to put ourselves into someone else's (horse)shoes from time to time. And you'll love the eerie silence in the theater when the lights go up and nobody has any idea what to say. There must have been anywhere from 50 to 100 people in our room, and you could hear a pin drop.

That's when I turned to Hoobs and said loudly in my best Jewish Mother, "Soooo, how did you like the mooovie?" Good times.

Slack Video of the Day: Two great clips from the good people at Deadspin: a wasted Bruce Willis at the Nets game and a foul-mouthed hockey mom shrieking. Gotta watch both of those.

Slack EPL Goal of the Weekend: What a wild weekend for soccer fans -- Manchester United and Chelsea both played top-six teams in lunchtime affairs on Saturday, with Chelsea needing a win and a ManU loss for any real shot of winning the Premiership for a third straight year. Sadly for Blues fans, they were up 2-1 at home and ManU was down 2-0 at Everton with 30 minutes to play in each match, before all hell broke loose. Bolton equalized with Chelsea on a Kevin Davies header, and ManU scored four goals in short order to basically clinch the title. Craisins.

Now instead we turn our attention southward for the relegation battle, which heated up this weekend with West Ham's 3-0 win versus a sorry-ass Wigan club. But the goal of the weekend came from that ManU-Everton match, with Manuel Fernandes absolutely smashing one past Edwin van der Saar to give the Toffees a two-nil lead. Seriously, check out the replay angles, that's a sickening strike.

Slack Song of the Day: Feeling some RANA today, so that's what we're gonna git -- Poop Georgette III, Good Book, and Phillipe Petite.

Slack NFL Draft Recap of the Day: Jets, I like it. Good moves.

6 Comments:

At 4:12 PM, Anonymous Jude said...

memo to Brady Quinn,

re: average girlfriend

look, sport... if you're going to bring your college ladything with you to hang around for 3-4 hours while your sorry ass gets passed over time and again -- have the decency to fuck something we'd want to see on screen repeatedly.
A guy in your position should be able to land at LEAST an 8. That puffy-faced thing sitting next to you had better thank fucking god you didn't get drafted by Miami. She'd be corpulent by comparison. She'd be gone the MOMENT he stepped off the plane.

Just in retrospect.

 
At 4:18 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Fuck you, jude, that's my sister.

Meanwhile, someone should test that guy's urine. Not me, but somebody should. Good lord, that boy is on steroids, no doubt, even down to the acne. Chuck Weis should tell him that you don't have to be Lattimer to throw the ball. Seat at the table, Brady!

 
At 4:51 PM, Blogger K Wynn said...

"I'm just unveiling my complete naivete when it comes to the meshing of horsecock with man-anus."

I can't stop laughing. Hands down the best line of the year. I bet God giggled. Bravo.

 
At 5:23 PM, Blogger Boxcar Fritz said...

"It's not every day you're thrown into a world so outside your own comfort zone"

Speak for yourself, lame-o.

 
At 7:09 PM, Blogger Claven said...

Put this post in your book. Top notch. Top notch.

And Quinn would have done better bringing his sister.

 
At 11:04 PM, Blogger J$ said...

horse>silent.

 

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