Has anyone noticed how no-one is talking about Mumblecore films anymore? You know: Funny Ha Ha, The Puffy Chair, Mutual Appreciation, Hannah Takes The Stairs, Brenda Eats a Pear. Never seen them? Neither have I. Life’s too short. Here’s a poem about the Melancholy King of the Mumblecorers, Andrew Bujalski:
________
Tiddlywinks and piddly-pants.
In the name of all that is inaudible about
This great nation
I shall play my tiddlywinks
And ply my piddly-pants picture
And I shan’t make eye contact
With any of you guys,
(Assholes)
What was that?
No, I didn’t say anything.
(Assholes).
_________
Guys, could we um thinkum
About what um my character would
Be saying hereum I meanum
I’m just trying to tell a story
About regular guys
Like you and me, guys.
Y’know. Umrelationshipsum.
Y’know, none of this Valentine’s Day Card
Umcrap.
So he kinda likes Mort but Mort’s
Into Bert, y’know.
And it’s about how a breakup can be
Sorta beautiful.
Y’know.
__________
Now dump me like you kind of mean it.
(Asshole)
Tags: Andrew Bujalski, errrr, Funny Ha Ha, how to cope with a breakup, indie, medium drink, mmm, mumblecore, Mutual Appreciation, Pears, poem, Stairs
The Agoraphobic Reviewer 
March 11, 2010 at 1:21 am |
Nothing is funny about Assholes
March 11, 2010 at 1:25 am |
Ok, a little bit. I just looked at mine and it made me laugh…
One day I discover’d
A mirror, and thence
I snook a peek
At my lower cheeks
And laughed all the night long
(But oh it smelt so wrong)
(My asshole)
March 11, 2010 at 9:18 am |
What have they been doing to you in Argentina Old Rope?
My poor little Old Rope. Once the best mind of his generation. Now destroyed by madness, flapping around in his Jesus jammies talking to his own colon.
March 16, 2010 at 3:24 am |
I dont talk to my own colon, for fuck’s sake you make it sound like a cursory telephone call to one’s mother when the bills at her asylum are due for payment. Rather, I converse with my rectum, sing with it and engage in discussions on the subject of historicism and the impossibility of truth. Need I remind you of the far from trifling volume of epic verse penned by my fair shitter only last year…? Just because the most your rump has ever produced is a series of cling-ons and runny logs peppered with sweetcorn.
April 5, 2010 at 3:26 pm |
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