Showing posts with label The Hath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Hath. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 August 2011

The Hath Strikes Back

The best way to describe this post is to point out that my friends and I have some very odd conversations at times, or at least, conversations that start off normally and then swiftly devolve into surrealism and insults. (And to think I almost published my newest blog post in progress, which was about the Festival. Heh. This one is much more fun) As an example, I found the below email from last year in my Sent folder and really can't remember why I thought it was so funny at the time (even though it undoubtedly was)

“Dear Life,

I never want to give you up. I never want to let you down. I never want to run around and hurt you. I never want to make you cry. I never want to say goodbye. I never want to lose my robot arm made of grain.

Love RickRoll“

Hmm. It's an enigma wrapped in a mystery surrounded by a RickRoll, that's for sure.
In any case the following conversation took place shortly after a discussion about the newest Anne Hathaway film, which if you have read the previous Hath-related post, you will know already that one of my friends has a deep and undying love for the deer-eyed actress which almost rivals my love for The Dern. I also made the mistake of permitting my friends to choose their names, which as you will see was a great (terrible) idea.

Me: I named one of my GFs from Final Fantasy VIII “Hathaway” in your honour, Tanyakit – she’s a naked Siren who sits on a rock and damages enemies by singing. Ha.

Tanyakit: That is a great honour, indeed

Me: Oh yes, the honour is indeed noteworthy. In addition, I have named my brutal, rock-smashing, horned minotaur-like firebeast  “Rachel”. I think we all know who I am referring to. 

Tanyakit: Wow, really? So you would say that’s an accurate description of McAdam?

Me: Actually, it’s about as nice as I can manage to be. She is pretty powerful though, and her Hellfire attack simply squishes everyone. It’s just a shame she’s so homely and barrel-chested.


Tanyakit: She is really not that special in real life either. I am pretty sure she suffers from the same too-much-mouth affliction as the Hath, and Jennifer Garner…and Julia Roberts…and…pretty much everyone else.

Me: So true, so true. Except at least Hathaway has some redeeming qualities, like her ridiculously overlarge anime eyes, and her ability to act a maximum of one and a half emotions at any given time, whereas Rachel brings nothing to the table.


D$ha: Not even side boob?

Me: (reluctantly) Well...she might bring a little sideboob. But it’s inadequate sideboob. The quality is below poor.

Tanyakit: Does she have enough to quantify side boob? All I know about McAdam is she walked out of a Vanity Fair shoot because they wanted her to show some actual skin. She is meant to be quite strait laced and prudish, or at least that’s her image.

D$ha: (whispering) BOOBS.

Wetsoks: BOOBS!

The Sarahinator: Really, guys?

At this point Other Half jumped in, although since we have been split up for some time I shall have to refer to her as Ex Other Half (although not Ex OH in case people mistake it for a Gossip Girls reference)

Ex Other Half: I can't take this anymore! She has been naked in at least 3 films I have seen her in.

Me: That’s true, you did have that desktop wallpaper with a naked Rachel on it, thus proving that she has been naked on film. She has not, however, managed to look attractive, or to radiate any sexuality beyond the capabilities of an ordinary household sponge.

Tanyakit: You obviously haven’t got our sponge. Its always making bedroom eyes at me.

Me: I get mine from Tesco.

Tanyakit: See, that's your problem right there.

Sunday, 6 March 2011

The Hath and The Dern

I recently discovered that Other Half had never seen the Princess Diaries, featuring Anne Hathaway and the ever-delightful Julie Andrews, who I firmly believe should share all grandmother roles between herself and Betty White. We have a friend who has a burning obsession for the Hath, which is a source of much amusement for us. I mean, sure, she's good looking, but she's too pretty, know what I mean? I read recently that The Hath is going to be Catwoman in the next Batman film. It's an odd choice, since she has all the sexual appeal and villainous intent of a baby deer, but I'm sure she'll do fine.

We put the dvd on and settled down to watch it. We ran a commentary on it for the first few minutes as we usually do, mocking the characters and dialogue in rapid quick-fire succession. Silence fell but after a while I could see Other Half was growing increasingly agitated. A moment later she turned to me.

Other Half: Wait, so... Julie Andrews lives in that house... which is, by the way, not in keeping with the surrounding architecture and looks massively out of place, and it's supposed to be an official consulate for Fairy Land?

Me: Genovia. And ...yes, she's staying there.

Other Half: If it's a consulate, shouldn't they have an information desk? And a place where people can go to sort out their passports? And some staff other than these hoity-toity royal employees?

Me: I think you're supposed to suspend belief in plausible situations for this kind of film.

Other Half: It's just not right.

Me: (patting her absently) I know, dear.

I was distracted because I kept wondering when Colin Firth was going to turn up and announce that he was her father and conveniently not dead after all (I realised eventually that I was confusing the Princess Diaries with Wild Child, a film which I saw a couple of years ago and immediately tried to bleach from my mind - I have a thing for rags-to-riches comedies). Also, our 21 pound Maine Coon cat was curled up in my lap and I was beginning to lose feeling in my legs.

The conversation turned, during a dull period in the film, to a favourite topic (for me anyway) of fit celebrities we would choose to sleep with. The rules of this game, referred to as Top 5, are simple - your partner permits you to cheat with these five people and only these five people. I advise against saying things like "your mum" because not only will that not fly well with your partner, the chances of you managing to actually score with such a person is unlikely, even if they knit you jumpers and bring you cake. Cake does not equal sex. It should, but it does not. In addition, these five people must be celebrities, no matter how minor. You can't choose that hot girl from the office that wears those lovely pencil skirts, or the watercooler guy with the awesome guns.

Me: Okay so who's in your top 5 this week?

Other Half: Rachel McAdam, Emily Blunt...

I make faces of disgust and pretend to retch.

Me: So....boring...so...similar...

Other Half: Fine, who are your Top 5 then?

Me: Not in any particular order, June Cole-

Other Half: Ah yes, June Cole. She's in mine as well.

June Cole is the nickname we've given to the June page of Cheryl Cole's 2011 calendar, which hangs in our hallway. I'm not exactly a fan of her accent but she does look Italian or some kind of Spanish and ridiculously hot and that works for me. Other Half and I consider the mental image of June Cole for a few moments in blissful silence.

Me: And Santana from Glee, and Quinn from Glee, and David Tennant and Laura Dern.

Other Half: Not her again!

For those of you who don't know, Laura Dern was the blonde lady in Jurassic Park (she was also in an episode of Ellen, which my gay readers will probably know already). I really like dinosaurs, and after that film, I really liked Laura Dern. There's something about the way she tended to the sick Triceratops that drew me in. Sensitive, yet tough. Smart and beautiful. Able to pull off a khaki shorts, coral shirt and boots combination without a hitch. That's my kind of lady. Other Half does not care for Laura Dern, possibly for this reason.

Me: I like her. She stays.

Other Half: These people aren't even in the country. Don't you want to choose someone a bit closer to home?

Me: Well, David Tennant covers my Scottish base. If it makes you feel better I'll substitute Emma Watson for June Cole.

Other Half: Who's Emma....Oh my god! Hermione Granger?! She's a child!

Me: Actually, I think she just turned 21.

Other Half: (staring at me, saucer-eyed) But, but...those Harry Potter films-

Me:  Were a long time ago. She's perfectly legal. I would be delighted to buy her a legal drink. Because she's legal.

Other Half: (spluttering) I...I...

Me: Emma Watson it is then. I hear she's in the UK like, all the time. Excellent.

Other Half: (darkly) You're sick. Pass the cat.