Introducing Gene Parmesan
Sliding in stylishly under the wire before our first review, it's time to introduce myself: I'm Gene Parmesan. (AH! GENE!) Unfortunately, I will not be writing all of my posts in the idiom of the best private investigator ever -- (ed. note: Gene was far from the best) -- but I'm not above shamelessly stealing his moniker for a bit of pop-referential cred.
In my civilian identity, I work in what I refer to as "the chapbook industry" -- we publish richly illustrated fictional periodicals, a business model which most reasonable people might have expected to have died with Dickens. But no, the industry is alive and thriving, thank you very much, and in point of fact a "moving-picture" adaptation of a certain industry favorite is debuting tonight! (Yes, that's X-Men, if you're not following my tortured quasi-metaphor.) The whole Movie Binge gang is trekking out together to take in that particular film, but I'm pretty sure they won't save me a seat once they see the t-shirt I'll be wearing. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, your humble Gene Parmesan is a dork. A dorkity-dork dork-dork-dork. Somebody had to counterbalance all of these glamorous and sexy socialites whose cinematic (mis)adventures you'll be reading over the course of the next few months, and I'm afraid the task fell to me. But we can have fun together anyway! Here on this blog, we can be the best of friends. But if you see me in the hall and are afraid to be seen looking my way... I'll understand. I'll have my chapbooks to console me.
In any event, I'm looking forward to the massive Twizzler consumption that this summer will no doubt afford (hey mister Latin Snake sir, you said they count as tax write-offs, correct?), and although the whole sordid affair is probably going to bankrupt me, I can honestly say that I'm going to have a lot of fun. As long as I don't get assigned Little Man. Please, please, please do not make me see Little Man. Seriously. It's the only trailer I've ever seen that made me feel like I had actually just been molested. I didn't know that it was possible for a movie to touch you dirty, but I think that one did. Cinecultist may fear butt fatigue, but I'll gladly undergo a butt amputation before I'll submit to another breastfeeding joke...