Beauty on the Outside counts too, Boys

(This is my response to this article found here….MUST READ FIRST)

Beauty on the Outside counts too, boys
I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among men. On Facebook and in conversations with boys, I’ve heard boys embrace supposed masculine liberation and tell us that they’re handsome no matter how they look. Before I have to dodge a flurry of thrown wing tips, let me clarify: Yes, you are handsome. You’re a son of God, and don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. But . . . you shouldn’t let the “beauty on the inside” argument hinder your quest to achieve your physical ideal. Some boys I know tell themselves it doesn’t matter how they look because they’re handsome on the inside, and then they just . . . well, let themselves go.
If you are truly happy with the body you have, I’m glad for you. We should recognize that none of us is going to have a perfect body, at least not at this stage in our eternal existence. (Or maybe you already do have a near-perfect body. Congrats. You should still keep reading.) Men, we gals will accept that not all of you are body builder models if you accept that few of us have managed the physique of any of the models in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.

I’m sorry if I come across as harsh. There are also plenty of people who go the opposite direction and become Ken dolls with personalities as bland as the plastic dolls they so resemble.
President Kimball said, “How nice and easy would it be if we had a magic wand! But we haven’t. You might take a careful inventory of your habits, your speech, your appearance, your weight, . . . and your eccentricities. . . . Take each item and analyze it. What do you like in others? What personality traits please you in others? Are your pants too short, too long, too revealing, too old fashioned? Does your weight drive off possible girlfriends? Do you laugh raucously? Are you too selfish? Are you interested only in your own interests?”
See boys, a prophet of God told you to hem your pants, get with the latest fashion trends, and stop driving off potential girlfriends with those ugly mugs (it’s called a facial…you have no right having imperfect skin). Stop being so interested in only your interests and start being interested in what we women are interested in. Geeze, boys.
President McKay said, ‘Even a barn looks better when it’s painted.’” Hear that, men? Paint your darn barns already.
Boys, a little regular exercise and some healthy eating habits will be a good start toward becoming that reasonable paragon. Go running. Take a racquetball class. Get off the couch and stop eating Cheetos and instead pick up a book and use it to do some weight lifting. I think you’re capable of filling in the rest of this list yourselves (but if you’re not I’d be happy to offer more suggestions). I really believe that once you set your physical goals on something that we women will approve of and if you work to reach them, we both can be satisfied with the hot stud you’re becoming.
What do you think? Am I off base? Do I have unreasonable expectations for boys?

Bad Movie Review – Pearl Harbor

Back in September 2009 I wrote this post about the worst movies I have ever seen. Of course, they were all my own personal opinion since I am in no way a movie critic or an expert in the cinematic arts. Since writing it, I have discovered there are loads of other crappy movies that I failed to trash to smithereens. So, I’m starting a new feature called, Bad Movie Review, just for shiz and gigs. I like to practice a lot of different writing styles, and reviewing bad movies is my attempt at humor. So without further ado, here is my latest trashing of a bad movie.

(It is no coincidence I chose to post about the horrible movie “Pearl Harbor” on the 70th Anniversary of the attack).
Pearl Harbor
You’re not supposed to actually laugh out loud when a main character dies, but that’s exactly what I did when Josh Hartnett bit the dust in this glorious display of cinematic horse manure. “It’s so cold Rafe, it’s so cold.”
So you can guess by the title of this movie it’s about the Japanese attack on America on December 7, 1941 and America’s entering into World War II. If you didn’t know that, crack open a book once and a while, pretty boy! And while they try to be all historically accurate they had to go and ruin the movie by throwing in a pretty pathetic love triangle between Kate Beckinsale, Josh Hartnett, and that big-headed guy, Ben Affleck. If they had just focused on that true American hero Petty Officer Doris Miller played by Cuba Gooding, Jr. (who unlike his co-stars can act but hasn’t shown it since he won the Oscar) and the historical events leading up to the bombing, this might have been a decent movie.

But it’s directed by Michael Bay (of “Transformer’s” fame) and he knows that sex sells. He did it first with Kate Beckinsale, and then next with Megan Fox. Only the love triangle was so pathetic, if I hadn’t already been married when I saw this movie, I would have sworn off love forever. Big-headed Ben plays Rafe and Josh plays his best buddy Danny. They grew up together, are bffs for life, and I think joined the Navy together or something, but really I wasn’t paying that much attention. I think being in the Navy is how they ended up in Hawaii, but who can be sure? Rafe falls in love with a beautiful nurse played by Kate. Oh sure, Kate resists Rafe’s charms at first because we have 183 minutes to kill and you can’t use that time to educate the American public about an important historical event. They fall in love because they’re in Hawaii and that’s what you do when you’re surrounded by palm trees. Pretty soon a wrench is thrown into their love story when Rafe is sent off on a mission to somewhere I forget but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the war. Well little Rafey’s plane is shot down or something (again, not really paying attention…my belly button was more interesting at this point) and word gets back to Danny and Kate that Rafe is dead as a door nail. Both Danny and Kate grieve hard for Rafe, which apparently means having hot sex in an airplane hanger to numb that sweet, sweet pain. Kate ends up preggo with Danny’s spawn, but that’s not all folks…by some miracle Rafe is actually, dun dun dun, alive! So Danny and Rafe fight, get drunk, fight some more, and wake up with a hangover in the middle of Pearl Harbor being bombed. The next few scenes are of the attack and about the only good thing about the movie because finally the movie is about something. And of course Danny dies in Rafe’s arms but not before Rafe tells him he’s going to be a Daddy. No Rafe, you are, Danny tells him before he croaks. Which induces me into a fit of giggles.
In 2006 the hubs and I visited the real Pearl Harbor, which is the only reason I watched this movie, because I was interested in learning more after being there. I actually thought this crap-tastic display was a slap in the face to the men and women who died there. Note to Michael Bay…if you want to make a movie about an important historical event and have a non-fiction story drive that movie, call Steven Spielberg and get tips on how it’s really done.