I know we’re all sick of Charlie Sheen news or at least pretend to be, but as the sticker on the back of my rascal scooter says, “I brake for poems.”  On Monday I brought you the news that Troma had discovered in their archives a 1989 film called A Tale of Two Sisters, based on the poetry of Charlie Sheen and narrated by Sheen himself.  Brace yourselves for this next news because you’ll never believe it, but it turns out Troma is REISSUING the title and it will soon be available in THEIR STORE.  I know, I was as surprised as you.  You probably got my cooties when your jaw hit the floor.

They sent over a clip with a new poem, which I’ve taken the liberty of transcribing for you.  Just when you’re like, but wait, where are the vagina references?  BOOM! There’s the vagina references!  Sometimes I wonder if we’d even have poetry if it weren’t for vaginas.

Ghandi’s back teeth pudding [10 points for revolting visual]
When offered gum she repled
No thanks, when I chew gum, I think I chew gum [whoa, deep...]
Korean hair and coconut milk frozen juice bars [sounds like someone composed this at his corner store]
Oversized man fell overboard, splash
Yes, Phyllis, she smokes.
Dog-tooth necklace worn by a cat
The tension mounts
Vaginal riots in the Middle East [did Charlie Sheen predict Libya?]
Do I have a choice? Do I have an option? Mommy, I love you
Boogie mama disco queen, midnight whore.
Peas and onions, of course, peas and onions [of course]

Gibberish wept.

Anyone who’s heard Charlie Sheen’s rants about F-18s and Warlock Torpedoes (so basically everyone) knows that the man has a way with words.  Most people don’t know, however, that Charlie Sheen also writes poetry, and that in 1989, a film was based on that poetry and narrated by Sheen himself.  Troma just sent over a teaser for A Tale of Two Sisters (Goddesses?), which had to be like finding a signed Mickey Mantle card in the trash for them.  Hard to glean much about the movie other than that it somehow involves a morbidly obese woman French kissing a bearded man on the beach, but the poem, as you might expect, is amazing.  Some of my favorite lines included:

“So what then was the ugly deed? A broken promise, petty greed?  Did one depart with no remorse? Menstrual mood, unsigned divorce?”

“Menstrual mood.”  Oh yeah, he went there.  Matter-of-factly discussing periods, that’s textbook poem writing right there.  And then there was this:

“Daddy’s eyes on front-page news, mommy accuses innocent Jews.
Sister one and sister two, complaining now, can’t find a shoe.”

Anti-Semitism: Bad. Misplaced shoes: also bad.  Typical family stuff.  Mommy complaining about Jews.  Daughter complaining about shoes.  When in walks Terry Crews, drinking booze on Blues Clues.  But even with such delicious rhymes, even that wasn’t my favorite line.  No, that honor belongs to this next one, which needs no context:

“Rebel rouser, call me Phil.”

“CALL ME AHAB” JUST GOT SERVED!  GIVE! THIS! POEM! A SEVEN!  (*blows glitter at audience, bangs gong, drops mic, walks offstage to thunderous finger snaps*)

So the next person you hear say “I’m SO over this Charlie Sheen thing…” like they’re so much better then everyone else, just play them this poem and tell them to go f*ck themselves.

"Move along, fella. This is Jet territory." (*finger snaps*)

God knows why we’re only hearing about it now, but it turns out Johnny Depp has long been Tim Burton’s muse, and I’m not speaking solely of cinema.  Yes, I’m talking about poetry, theatre’s even gayer cousin. (*dims lights, rolls cigarette*)  Turns out Burton wrote a poem about Depp which was published in Double Exposure, Take Three, by Roddy McDowell in 1992.  Of course I own it.  I keep it on my bookshelf next to some albums by bands you’ve never heard of on vinyl.  And it goes… (*finger snaps*) a little something… (*adjusts scarf*) like this… (*throws chalk in the air like Lebron James*)

(imagine Michael Madsen lighting a cigarette and Terrence Howard playing the bongos for ambience)

there was a young man
everyone thought was quite handsome
so he tied up his face
and held it for ransom

he made everybody
back up 20 feet
then he ran off
with his head
down a darkly
lit street

the whole town
wondered why he’d
threatened his face

they couldn’t understand,
…it was that kind of place.

Cool story, Tim Burton.

…To be honest, I was hoping it’d be a lot more hipstery.  I like how it rhymed.  And not one word about corsets or super-pale skin.  (*kicks can*)

Read the rest of this entry »

Good news, everyone!  Alex Proyas, director of The Crow and Knowing, among other films, has signed up to direct a Hollywood film adaptation of Paradise Lost, John Milton’s legendary 17th-century English poem about the battle between angels and demons.  Now, personally, I love me nothing more than some 17th-century poetry.  Hell, I practically majored in it at queer school.  Being the cultured intellectual that I am, I’d be interested in a very faithful, very artistic interpretation of the work, featuring costumes and British accents and Kate Winslet.  But I realize that kind of thing is not for everyone.  But you’re in luck, beefcake, because this AIN’T YOUR GRANDPA’S PARADISE LOST!  THIS ONE WILL HAVE AIRPLANES AND P*SSY AND 3D! OOH WAH-AH AH-AH BUKKAKE SQUAD!

The project tells the story of the epic war in heaven between archangels Michael and Lucifer, and will be crafted as an action vehicle that will include aerial warfare, possibly shot in 3D. [Variety]

(*NIC CAGE bursts through the door wearing a ridiculous wig*)  “The Pentagon called me, rogue John Milton scholar Jefferson Davis St. Cloud, because they know I’m the best!  The chairman of the Harvard classics department said I was crazy!  HAHAHAHA– well who’s crazy now?  That’s right, I’VE DISCOVERED A TRANSCRIPT OF LUCIFER’S PLANS ON THE BACK OF THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS!  QUICK, THERE ISN’T MUCH TIME!” (*flies off in personal helicopter*)

According to the Sun, Reservoir Dogs actor and star of FilmDrunk Poetry Slam Michael Madsen was taken to a hospital after "going berserk" at a London Hotel.

It is understood he checked in to the hotel on Saturday with a woman he described as his wife and five-year-old daughter.

Holy shit, he married his daughter?  No wonder he’s having a breakdown.

A source told The Sun: “He was apparently totally out of it when he turned up. Then on Sunday afternoon there was a massive disturbance in his room.
“A guest complained that all hell was breaking lose [Sic]. There was a lot of screaming and shouting and staff called the police. He had a furious row with his woman companion and it was feared they might hurt each other. An ambulance was called because of concerns for his mental health.
“Madsen looked wild-eyed and had lost the plot. He was not violent, but there were serious concerns about his behaviour.” [Source]

Hypothetically speaking, if he had hit his wife, it probably would’ve been because he loved her so much, right?  I mean, why couldn’t she understand that?  GRR, TELLYOURFRIENDSYOUFELL!   -Thanks to Robo for the tip