In my continuing series of terrible movie ideas I bring you my second Christmas movie, and the weirdest of the four I will bring you. It is, however, also a very realistic plot, as evidenced by shows like Ticked-Off Trannies with Knives, which I will admit I watched half of. For those you you who enjoy the stranger, gay-touch, I present:
Christmas is a Drag
Christmas is a Drag is a fabulous new movie starring drag superstar and she-legend, RuPaul. In this adventure, Ru is joined by two freshman draglebrities, Rich Sommer (Mad Men) and BD Wong (Law and Order: SVU), to save Christmas from the evil Santa Bear and his army of beauty-stealing Christmas cubs.
Ru has just returned from a whirlwind modeling and singing journey around the world to sher’s girls, Sasha Lamorr (Rich Sommer), a shy, big-boned drag queen who just wants to find her knight in shining armor, and Nina Fierce (BD Wong), a sassy drag queen with a little too much attitude but all the right moves. When the girls are attacked early Christmas Eve by a group of scary, hairy Christmas cubs, they learn that the most glamorous of holidays is in danger from dirty, old Santa Bear, who wants to steal the beauty from the season and ruin it for all the little ladyboys.
As with all things drag, Christmas is a Drag is a wild ride, with plenty of puns and glitter to appease the most dour of divas. “Tuck” yourselves in this holiday and get ready for an unforgettable ruventure.
Dearest readers, today it’s time for the second installment of the best worst Christmas movies ever. Last week was iChuanukah, a movie starring Lena Dunham and Andrew Garfield as two adolescents who discover love and adulthood through eight miraculous days of cellphone life.
Today, I change gears to a story of Christmas and family; a tale that could truly be a Christmas classic, jingling all the way down the annals of history. In fact, when I jokingly described this plot to my friends a week ago, they looked at each other and then at me blankly and said in unison, “Wait… Is that a real movie?” Clearly, if I had a superpower it’d be my ability to make awful movie plots in moments. I now present:
Black Christmas Continue reading
In the spirit of the holidays, over the next three weeks I am bringing you, my sparse readership, a gift. A gift that will linger in your minds far longer than any other gift I would’ve given you would (for the record, alternate gift ideas included head cheese and whatever has been growing in my closet). That’s right: four — you read correctly, four!!! — of my famous movie ideas* to enjoy in the privacy of wherever you’re reading this from.
*All famous movie ideas copyright Relatively Awesome Productions, Est. 2023. Stealing any of said ideas will result in punishment as seen fit by the Honorable Justice Gregory. Continue reading
Well, folks, it’s that time of year again: it’s getting a bit colder, a bit snowier (or, you know, just greyer in New York), and college students are coming up with creative places to hang mistletoe. I myself have started to celebrate by moving away from my normal litany of awful shows and onto shows in what might be one of the worst genres to have ever existed (the only genre that’s worse that I can think of is “Paranormal Teen Romance Novels”): Romantic Comedy Holiday Movies, often made by ABC Family. To give you an idea of how terrible this is, just consider that I have started about 12 of these movies and only got close to finishing three because they are just so, so horror-inducing.
The gem of the movies so far has been Christmas Cupid, which is just such a wonderful mix of stupidity and outright offensiveness that you can’t possibly watch it without some sort of ire burning inside of you like a freshly lit fireplace by the end. The premise of this movie is simple: a woman who has always put her career doing PR first is visited by three boyfriends of Christmas (Ex-mas, get it? GET IT?!) who tell her how she’s romantically stupid and what will happen if this continues. Her spiritual guide, the titled Christmas Cupid, is actually a hussy, diva, and former client who died while clubbing by choking on an olive. Continue reading
PrS (that means prescript, here): This isn’t a late post on 4th of July that I was too lazy to make yesterday, this is actually a story-ish thing! Rejoice!
Now, I used to be a big fan of the 4th of July. Not because I had any national pride; no, when I was a kid the only things I cared about were dinosaurs, cookies, and explosives. The thing you may not glean from my current high strung, hippy attitude is that I used to be quite fond of watching things burst into flames. My fondest memories of Independence Day were trying to talk my dad into buying $500+ in fireworks so that we could have a display that was the envy of all our neighbors, setting off a few artillery shells every night prior to the actual day. It was Pyromaniac Heaven.
Then I grew up and became lame. Kidding! I’m still (sort of) awesome. But the effervescent joy that radiated from my skin when I had witnessed a rocket dissipated as I grew older was replaced by yawns. Been there, done that.
Enter in Fruit -Blow-Up Day. Continue reading