Bad Movie Night proudly presents the Citizen Kane of Vegas Stripper Movies: SHOWGIRLS.
Director Paul Verhoeven and writer Joe Eszterhas, after their huge success with Basic Instinct, wanted their next film to make a STATEMENT. Unfortunately, I can't make this statement without littering the internet with more uncouthness so lets just leave it at that.
SHOWGIRLS is about a girl that was born to dance. But....she wants MORE.
This is practically a documentary so be ready to bear witness to the Vegas mama never told you about.
Bad Movie Night will not be held responsible for your actions or the state of your eternal soul should you attend this Meetup. Just putting that out there. This movie is rated NC-17, but damn it, this is art.
Oh, and also, Bad Movie Night reserves the right to card you at the door. And no, you can't come if your mommy or daddy brings you.
More details to follow when we get closer to showtime.
One food theme that works for this movie allows each of you 3 almonds, 4 carrots, and unlimited celery sticks (no dip for them though--oh, and if we pinch more than 1/4 inch fat on your body, you get one less almond).
Now don't fret. There's another food theme besides showgirl-diet that works. Thanks to Julian, we can have a birthday feast in his honor. I've used my arsenal of feminine talents, which includes threats of wedgies, to convince him to reveal his preference of main dishes. He gave a rather Woody Allenesque response in favor of Pasta Putinesca. I can imagine that most of you think this dish should come naturally to me, and I'm thinking you're right as I've been pleased with my first whack at it--sadly, you shouldn't get your hopes up since I don't have any example of excellence for comparison. Anyway, I'm hoping I can accompany this with some roasted, green veggie, but we're in a time of transition, and I've no idea what's going to be offered at the farmer's market on Friday. To complete the movie, you may try my attempt at flan,* or you may have one of Brenda's Chocolate Thingies, or you may go hog wild and have some of each.
*I'm almost completely flan ignorant. My experiment with it looks OK, but I have grave doubts that anything that tastes like what I've made can become anyone's favorite dessert.
More notes from Diane
Soooo most of this is the same-old-same-old that's only helpful to the forgetful or the newbie, and it's going to be included in future event descriptions for my house, but I'm attempting a baseline for everyone here:
I'll post a comment Thursday night, after I've emailed my real address to attendees.
Bring food only if you think you can't stomach what's on the menu or you're really eager to share some addition to it.
If you want to drink something besides water straight from the tap, bring your own beverage, preferably in a great enough volume to share (red wine, high-quality beer, and sparkling water are usually the most appreciated additions to the night). If you like your beverage chilled, please bring it that way--my ice maker doesn't work & I've no room in my freezer for ice trays.
You'll be welcome in at 7p. I'll try to open the serious door before then so you can freely enter if you arrive a little early, but don't be at all surprised by my inability to socialize (actually that's true at anytime, but especially true when I'm in last-minute-prep mode), just make sure the screen door is closed behind you (a little lift of the door, applied at the handle, will allow it to latch), and make yourself comfortable. Please grab a glass from the cabinet and pour yourself any drink that's been made available.
I try to have dinner ready as soon after 7p as I can. We watch the movie about 8p. Dessert is offered after the movie is over. I need you to not feel shy about serving yourself when the food is placed out (just approximate your max serving by eyeballing a division of the quantity by the number of attendees expected--once everyone is served, you're free to take seconds--and that's pretty much the complete list of manners I want you to remember when you're plating up at my place). Please don't make me nag you to get food and please don't wait for me to start eating (it's oh so stressful to see the food that's out getting cold and icky while I'm still working on another dish). Maybe one day I'll be able to serve a meal with grace and precise timing, and we can sit around a beautifully set table, paying attention to all sorts of subtle etiquette, laughing at the old days when I forced you into barbarian behavior because of my ineptitude, but for the next decade or so, you'll really be helping me out by grabbing up the food and drink when it appears.