White Chicks

I am forced by Tom for the third time in as many days to watch Damon and Marlon Wayans’ classic, “White Chicks.” The part where lactose intolerant Marlon (or Damon, I don’t really know who is who) gets explosive diarrhea from eating too much quiche and doesn’t know that quiche is made from cheese: SIDE SPLITTING. The part where Damon and Marlon dressed as the Wilson sisters get into a dance off and proceed to use their fresh urban street skillz to summarily destroy their utterly pathetic Caucasian competition: GENIUS. Unfortunately my 15 yr cousin doesn’t get the full benefit of Wayan hilarity. For example, when the shemales go shopping and their friend says to the personal shopping assistant, “I need something for my friend, something that says, ‘I’m not a slut, but I’m not a virgin either’, the Chinese subtitles simply say ‘I’m sorry to trouble you miss, but I need something for my friend’. UGH! Unacceptable that these pilferers of American intellectual property can’t take the time to do a proper translation. Sadly, I find myself laughing out loud with sincerity when my cousin laughs, which is pretty often.
One GREAT thing that came from Tom watching this movie is that he has acquired a taste for Arturo Sandoval. In the beginning of this movie the brothers (dressed as Cuban shopkeepers) sing “Guantanamera” to distract their would-be attackers. I told Tom I had that song and he proceeded to listen to it over and over, eventually requesting that I put it on his mp3 player. I also gave him “Hollaback Girl”. He commented, “The shit is bananas? Does that girl have a mental handicap? Why would a banana be shit?”

Crikey. Cabin fever is setting in. It’s about time to leave Henan.