As I'm working tonight I have PUMPING IRON on in the background, which I'd never seen before.
And I'm sure if I'd experienced it way back in the day it'd hit much differently but in 2021 it just feels like Arnold is in a mockumentary and it is fucking HILARIOUS.
Also - and I know I discussed this with someone on here before, maybe @DrewMcWeeny? - Arnold's definitely *working* to keep that accent, right? He's lived in LA for like 50 years, there's no way it wouldn't have faded by now.
I'm not mad. I'm just saying.
I swear to God though this is one of the most unintentionally funny movies I've ever seen in my entire life. Everyone who isn't Arnold or Lou Ferrigno looks like they were kicked off the set of DICK TRACY.
Like dudes are just casually throwing up Nazi salutes as part of their pose package. Even the Very Austrian Arnold seems to have no concept that this shit looks pretty Reichy.
Also, no way our boy is 6'2". Come onnnnnnnnnn.
God, I love this.
OK so based on Arnold's dad's mustache (yep, probably in honor of Charlie Chaplin, definitely Chaplin) and Arnold mentioning how much he idolized dictators whose names would be remembered for hundreds of years, I'm guessing that salute was no mistake, my bad, carry on everyone.
On the flipside, there's a scene in the Ferrigno family's kitchen where Lou's dad is screaming at him about beating Arnold at Mr. Olympia and Lou's mom is standing near the three full trays of lasagne she made for four fucking people.
This. Movie. Has. Everything.
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Threw on the FBOY ISLAND Finale in the background and the only thing I hope for is that Garrett falls into a fire filled with nails and hornets and cancer.
I feel bad for CJ because she ended up with two actual pieces of shit, and might have actually picked the worse one, somehow.
So I'm waiting for food tonight and I'm sitting next to a nurse from Cedars who...I mean, I've been around enough military vets to know thousand-yard-stare when I see one. And she looked like she could see straight through to the other side of the galaxy.
I probably shouldn't...
...have asked if she was OK. I probably should have left her alone and let her gaze into thr abyss.
But I didn't. I asked if she was OK.
And she snapped out of it and smiled wanly, and nodded her head, giving me a look of, "Please don't ask me for details."
I didn't. But...
...she I guess had heard me mention BACHELOR IN PARADISE to someone on the phone, and we got to talking about that, and she clowned me pretty hard, and...honestly I get it.
And then she asked what *I* do, and I told her I'm a screenwriter, and she goes...
#BACHELORINPARADISE is always a great mix of 1) castmembers who seem to be totally decent people and 2) castmembers whose current occupation is spreading mental illness and herpes.
Also, I have forgotten 3 out of every 4 people introducing themselves as, "You'll remember me..."
I am super fucking bored with Grocery Store Joe. He's fine. But I don't get it. I've never gotten it. His accent is terrible. His hair is better this cycle.
As these days of Trump lope past us in a lethargic haze, I'm thinking a lot about my downstairs neighbor, Charlie. I've talked about him before.
Charlie, God willing, will be 102 years old in November. He is a Holocaust survivor.
And when I say "survivor", that says a lot.
I'm not *exactly* sure of the order, but from what I've pieced together through conversations with him over the years, a four-year period of his life went like this:
1. He was captured by the SS after hiding out for several months in Lublin, Poland.
2. He was immediately sent to Majdanek, a labor/concentration camp.
3. From there, he was transferred to the Auschwitz complex. He worked the mines in Janinagrube. For context here, Charlie was maybe 5'4" at his apex and made to swing an axe half his size.