What to do when a group of lazy, lunch-delivering schoolgirls brings spoiled food to the school band, causing them all to get food poisoning? Well, force those brats to pick up some instruments and take the band’s place, of course. That’s the premise of Japanese director Shinobu Yaguchi’s 2004 comedy, Swing Girls—and, if it doesn’t necessarily sound like a plan that would lead to a successful high-school concert, it is an idea that led to a successful comedy. The film, which won seven honors at the 2005 Japanese Academy Awards (including Most Popular Film), was among the highest-grossing Japanese films of the year. Like Yaguchi’s previous feel-good flick, Waterboys, Swing Girls is partly based on real events. One can only hope that the source of Yaguchi’s inspiration fared as well in its final concert and learned as many life lessons as the film’s band does before the credits begin rolling.

The film shows at 6:30 p.m. at the Japan Information and Culture Center, 1155 21st St. NW. Free. (202) 238-6949.

Well, here we are folks. After a disastrous start, a coaching change, a sudden surge through the standings despite long-term injuries to key players, and an MVP-worthy season by franchise left-winger Alexander Ovechkin, the Washington Capitals find themselves in a position to make the playoffs for the first time since the 2002-2003 season. Not only that, but—as the Washington Post’s Tarik El-Bashir points out—they could actually win the Southeast Division.

Holy fucking shit.

The Caps have six games left in the following two weeks—all against Southeast Division opponents. Two games against the Southeast Division-leading Carolina Hurricanes (five points ahead of the Caps), two games against the Florida Panthers (who are also competing for a playoff spot and only one point behind the Caps), and two against the league-worst Tampa Bay Lightning. The first three games are away and begin with tonight’s matchup against the Hurricanes.

If the Caps kick ass, they could win the division and get into the playoffs in the third spot. If that were to happen, who knows what team they’d play in the first round: Of the seven teams competing for the last three playoffs spots in the East, only eight points separate the 12th-place Toronto Maple Leafs and the 6th place New York Rangers. In fact, the whole goddamned conference is one big ol’ clusterfuck, thanks to Gary Bettman and the three-point system in which a team that loses in overtime gets a point for, well, losing. Trying to do the math gives me a fucking headache, know what I’m saying? So the Caps shouldn’t waste any energy worrying about whether or not they might have to play Sidney Crosby and the Pittsburgh Penguins in the first round of the playoffs and just kick the shit out of Carolina, Florida, and Tampa.

Oh yeah, and making the playoffs is the only way Ovechkin will win the Hart Memorial Trophy for most valuable player. Because the people who choose whoever wins the award (members of the Professional Hockey Writers Association) are douchebags who think that—even though the NHL already has a fucking award for Playoff MVP—the award should only go to a player whose team makes the playoffs. Never mind that Ovechkin, you know, leads the league in goals. And points. And checks the shit out of everything that moves. And has almost single-handedly carried the Washington Fucking Capitals to within two points of the playoffs.

“Hey guys, check me out. I’m a member of the Professional Hockey Writers Douchelord SuperClub! What say we give the Hart to Evgeni Malkin instead of Ovechkin on the basis that I am a complete fucking tool?”

I want a sweet picture of the members of Congress pointing and laughing at the people who live in the capital of a nation that denies them one of the very rights this country was founded on. The rest of the country probably won’t get it, so you might as well add the old “Taxation Without Representation” line on there. (Yeah, I know we’ve got license plates that say that, but think nationally, dude!) If you want to work Blelvis, a bald eagle with a tear running down its beak, or some bullshit cherry blossoms in there, that’s cool with me, too. Fuck yeah!

While we’re at it, the D.C. quarter should be missing a chunk equal to about 1/5 the size of a regular quarter to symbolize how much of that quarter the federal government is taking out of our pockets without adequate representation. I’d say drill a hole in the center of the damn thing, but I think it’d be better just to have a pie-slice-shaped piece cut out—and make sure that the edges are sharp, so that people slice their fingers open and bleed all over themselves whenever they try to use it.

Thanks for the fucking quarter, douchebags. Now, about that $257.17 you took out of my check this week…

On November 23, 2007, newly-promoted Washington Capitals coach Bruce Boudreau worked his first game behind the bench in the National Hockey League. That night, the cellar-dwelling Capitals—who were in last place in the Southeast Division—beat the Philadelphia Flyers in overtime by the score of 4-3, earning Boudreau his first NHL win. Last night, Boudreau and the surging Capitals returned to Philadelphia, winning again by the score of 4-3. And now the Caps—one of the NHL’s hottest teams since Boudreau’s promotion—find themselves in first place of the Southeast Division, which automatically puts them in third place in the Eastern Conference.

And, wouldn’t you know it? If the playoffs started today, the Caps would play the Pittsburgh Penguins. Boo. (P.S. Suck it, Pittsburgh.)

Of course, the Florida Panthers and the Atlanta Thrashers—two of the Caps’ Southeast Division “rivals”—play tonight; a Panthers win would tie them with the Caps for first place in the extremely tight division while a Thrashers win would actually put them back in first place. So root against both of them. They suck.

On Friday night, the Caps play the Carolina Hurricanes at home in what will essentially be a four-point game. You should go. And here’s a heads-up for all you broke-ass students: Tomorrow night is one of the Caps’ “Student Rush” nights, which means—if you present a valid student I.D. card at the Verizon Center box office on the day of the game—you can get a $25 lower-level ticket or a $10 upper-level ticket. Good God Almighty, what a deal! Just remember to NOT lean forward during the entire game and to NOT get in/out of your seat while the puck is in play.

Mount Pleasant Street and Irving Street NW, February 3.

Fuck you, Bill Belichick, you cheating dipshit assclown, for “Spygate.”

Fuck you, Bill Belichick, you classless prick, for running up the score against the Washington Redskins.

Fuck you, Bill Belichick, you worthless failure of a human being who took an undefeated New England Patriots team to the Super Bowl and lost, for walking off of the field early when there was time still on the clock. (Seriously, what the hell was that bush league bullshit?)

Fuck you, Bill Belichick, you fucking choke artist, for the countless other acts of arrogance and general douchebaggery I’m sure you’ve committed during the course of the 2007-2008 NFL season.

But—most importantly—fuck you, Bill Belichick, Mr. 18-1 Sore Loser Fucknut, for making me, a lifelong Redskins fan, root for the goddamned New York Giants.

Karma’s a motherfucker, ain’t it, Billy boy?

U2 3D (aka U2 3D: The First Live-Action 3D Concert Movie, Featuring U2 …): It’s like seeing U2 live, in three dazzling dimensions, except it’s on film. U2 3D opens today at the National Museum of Natural History’s Johnson IMAX Theatre, 10th St. & Constitution Ave. NW.

Also, that dude still seriously calls himself “The Edge.” I wonder if that’s what is on his driver’s license?

Shhh. Shut your yapping mouths for a minute, Pittsburgh. Let me enjoy this moment.

The Washington Capitals have finally beaten the Pittsburgh Penguins. In Pittsburgh, no less. Which, you know, hasn’t happened since dinosaurs walked the Earth. (Note: I’m pretty sure that the Weekly World News reported a T-Rex sighting in southern Florida in 2002—which IS the last time the Caps won in Pittsburgh.) The same Penguins who beat the Capitals in the playoffs six times out of seven in an 11-year span. The same Penguins who have beaten the Caps nine out of the last 10 times since their respective superstars, Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin, entered the league in 2005-2006. The same Penguins who I hate with the flaming passion of a thousand suns.

Suck it, Pittsburgh.

Ovechkin scored two goals and had an assist—putting him in sole possession of first place in the NHL’s goal-scoring department. Viktor Kozlov had his second two-goal game in a row; rookie Nicklas Backstrom, meanwhile, had his second four-assist game in a row. Goaltender Olaf Kolzig stopped 10 out of 15 Penguins shots. Okay, so that’s not so great, but a win is a win—even when it requires a shootout, which was the case last night (following a spirited Caps penalty-killing performance during an extended 5-on-3 Penguins powerplay in overtime).

As Penguins fans will be lightning-quick to point out, “OH MY GOD Sidney Crosby is injured! Why hasn’t NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman put the 2007-2008 season on hold until he recovers? The league can’t have an All-Star Game without Secondary Sid!” Because, like, no other team in the league has to play through injuries. Like, say, the Capitals, who were missing their captain (Chris Clark), their second highest scorer (Michael Nylander, out for the season), and two of their top four defensemen (Shaone Morrisonn and Brian Pothier).

Okay, okay—so the Penguins were also missing their “number one” goalie Marc-Andre Fleury as well as forwards Gary Roberts and Colby Armstrong. Boo-fucking-hoo. Maybe the NHL’s new moisture-proof jerseys will wick away your tears.

Did I mention that the Caps beat the Penguins? Hot holy fuck on ice.

Hockey fans, meet the Ottawa Senators: A team that went to the Stanley Cup Finals last season. A team with the best record in the Eastern Conference. A team with a lot of pride.

A team that just can’t admit that the lowly Washington Capitals fucking own them.

Last night, the Capitals beat the Senators by the score of 4-2; the come-from-behind victory marked the completion of the Caps’ four-game season sweep over the Sens. In early November, after Washington had whipped Ottawa 4-1, the Senators claimed that the loss was due to the fact that they had underestimated the foundering Caps squad and thus not played at the top of their game—but that they wouldn’t make the same mistake next time. The Senators got the chance to back up their brash talk in late December, when the Caps traveled to Ottawa for the first game in a home-and-home series. Alexander Ovechkin scored four goals and one assist for the Caps, who beat the Senators in their own rink once again, this time by the score of 8-6. Ottawa goaltender Martin Gerber wasn’t the only Senator to take a beating: Caps enforcer Donald Brashear absolutely pummeled Sens tough guy Chris Neil in a lopsided bout during which Neil took what seemed like two dozen punches directly to the head.

Ottawa’s response? The Senators’ thug-on-skates Brian McGrattan accused Brashear of backing down from a fight challenge he issued earlier in the game, only to pick on the smaller Neil—who, until that point, nobody had ever accused of being anything other than a heavyweight fighter in his own right. McGrattan then actually went so far as to claim that Neil won the fight. (Maybe McGrattan’s taken too many hits to the head himself—but, just in case his memory is a little foggy, here’s the video of Neil getting hammered.) Canadian hockey analyst and national embarrassment Don Cherry—in a misguided attempt to salvage some sense of dignity for the city of Ottawa—then called Brashear a “phony” and insisted that he was afraid to fight McGrattan.

Three days later, the Senators came to Washington and responded to their previous lackluster efforts with a 3-6 loss to the Capitals. Following the game, Senators captain Daniel Alfredsson gave the Capitals a backhanded compliment, noting that the cellar-dwelling Caps “have nothing to lose.” Nice comeback, Alfie.

Fast-forward to last night’s example of Washington’s continued dominance over what is supposedly a superior team. This time around, Alfredsson said “It doesn’t feel any better or any worse than any other loss…We played a good game. We gave up two easy goals and they got four or five power plays.” Hmmm. That’s a familiar take on things: In each case, it’s a matter of the Senators organization claiming that the Capitals didn’t so much win the game as the Senators did lose it.

Yeah, Alfie, I’m sure that’s what happened—four times in a row. And I’m also sure that losing four times to the Caps—who you obviously hold in low regard—by the combined score of 22-12 doesn’t bother you in the least. Because the frustration and denial on the Sens’ part following each heartbreaking loss to the Caps isn’t completely obvious in the post-game wrap-ups, you know? Perhaps Senators forward Dean McAmmond more accurately described his team’s feelings toward the Capitals when he said, “Yeah. I don’t really like them.” I wonder why not, eh?

Either way, as one poster on the Washington Capitals message board stated, the Senators may not be able to give the Caps any credit—but they did give them eight points. Thanks, guys!

Last night’s announced crowd of 16,168 people at the Verizon Center for the Washington Capitals’ match against the Colorado Avalanche was one of the largest I’ve seen there all year. Which was great, but where the hell did all of you people come from? Is it because the Caps are suddenly winning, going 12-6-4 since Bruce Boudreau took over as head coach? Perhaps it’s due to the fact that last night’s game was one of three games that—as a thank-you to its full-time fan base—the Caps organization was offering a set of free lower-bowl tickets to season-ticket holders. (My regular seats are in Section 413, but last night I got to life the rich life on the Caps’ dime and sat in Section 118.) Or maybe it’s just because, due to the NHL’s crazy schedule, the Avalanche haven’t played in Washington, D.C., since dinosaurs ruled the Earth.

Honestly, I don’t really care. The huge crowd was a nice change of pace. What I do care about, however, is how some of you fucking n00bs don’t seem to understand basic sports-arena etiquette.

It’s OK. The Caps won 2-1 after a thrilling third period, so I’m in a good mood. But here are two helpful tips: 1) As the announcer will tell you pre-game, the usher will tell you throughout the game, and any person whose view of the game you happen to be obstructing will yell at you, DO NOT walk to and/or from your seat while the puck is in play. Wait for the next whistle before standing in the aisle searching for your seat while talking on your cell phone and looking like an ignorant jackass for five minutes. And, in the same manner, wait for a break in play before dragging your whining children down to the concourse for another round of nachos. 2) DO NOT lean forward in your seat the entire game. People do not shell out good money to have 1/3rd of their view obscured by the back of your huge friggin’ head. A good rule of thumb: It’s natural to lean forward when an amazing play is about to unfold, and that’s fine—but, after it’s all over, keep your ass and lower back against the back of the seat. (And, for the love of God, DO NOT cop an attitude when the person behind you taps you on the shoulder and politely asks if you wouldn’t mind not leaning forward so much, as it blocks the view of the people behind you.)

These are the things that separate man from beast, people.

Courtesy of Wilmington, Delaware’s The News Journal:

Urinating man tumbles off overpass into river
By Terri Sanginiti, The News Journal
Posted Thursday, January 3, 2008 at 10:48 am

A 51-year-old Wilmington man who stopped to urinate over an overpass on Del. 141 this morning and toppled 40 feet into the water is being treated at Christiana Hospital for hypothermia, authorities said.

State police spokesman Cpl. Jeff Whitmarsh said the man, identified as Bryan Hildebrand, was on medication and at about 8:42 a.m. had to pull off onto the shoulder of southbound Del. 141 to relieve himself.

As he was standing on the overpass, above the Christina River, a tractor-trailer whizzed by, knocking Hildebrand off balance, Whitmarsh said.

All right—who’s the funny guy? Whoever it is, urine a lot of trouble!

There is a steaming pound of meat on my desk and I don’t know what to do with it.

Okay, that’s not true. On my desk, there is actually a ticket stub from yesterday’s New Year’s Day matinee match-up between the Washington Capitals and the Eastern Conference-leading Ottawa Senators, whom the Caps beat by the score of 6-3. (Last Saturday, the Capitals beat the Senators in Ottawa by the score of 8-6; the lowly Caps are 3-0 against the Sens so far this season.) Should I make the trip to any nearby Austin Grill, however, I would be able to trade this now-seemingly worthless ticket stub for one free pound of chicken wings, while supplies last. (What, is Austin Grill going to run out of wings?) It’s all part of a game-day promotion; any time the Caps score six or more goals in a home game, attendees can get a free pound of wings at Austin Grill the following day with a valid ticket stub.

Had the game been just two days earlier, I would have happily devoured that pound of quivering chicken flesh the following afternoon. I would have done so without bothering to wipe the sauce from my glistening mouth until I was completely finished; perhaps, for good measure, I would have thrown the bony remains at my co-workers while letting out a bellowing belch to signify my dominant place at the top of the food chain. Unfortunately, less than a week ago I was told by my doctor that I need to get my cholesterol down—and, as a result, I made a New Year’s resolution to return to a pesco-vegetarian diet. (I’m pretty sure that, in some other language, “pesco” means “not a.”) So chicken—and, by extension, chicken wings (be they of a free nature or not)—is out.

It’s been real, meat.

Congratulations to Bruce Boudreau, whom the Washington Capitals organization named Head Coach For Serious in an officially official statement released earlier today. Since Boudreau was named interim coach on Nov. 22, the Caps have gone 7-5-3 and seen improvements in offensive production, special teams, and winning percentage. Which is to say that the team still sucks, but it sucks a little less.

There’s a pretty good chance that this announcement will put an end to the constant speculation regarding Boudreau’s immediate future with the club—but, apparently, even certain sports columnists in hockey-crazy Montreal can’t get their basic facts right when it comes to reporting on the Caps.

The holiday season is a time for families to gather, celebrate, and drink the shit out of some serious hard liquor in order to tolerate each other—and to forget how much the whole gathering-and-celebrating thing is a major pain in the ass. So, here is my special gift to you, dear readers: After the break, a few recipes (courtesy of thatsthespirit.com) for holiday spirits that will help you keep up your holiday spirit. Get it? SPIRITS! It’s a fucking joke.

Read More “‘Tis the Season to Get Piss-Drunk With Your Relatives” »

As the latest round of suburban riots indicates, France has done an inadequate job of integrating its immigrants and their children. Yet foreign-born characters are better represented in recent French films than in their American counterparts. Director Pierre Jolivet’s Zim & Co, for example, is set in a multicultural youth subculture as diverse as the film’s hip-hop, funk, and rock score. Zim is an easygoing 20-year-old who plays in a band and pays little attention to France’s abundant laws and regulations. Then he has a traffic mishap on his scooter and tests positive for drugs. Given a choice between jail and work, he lands a job doing deliveries. But the position requires a car and driver’s license, both of which he lacks. Zim—short for Zimbietrofsky—is played by Adrien Jolivet, the director’s son, who was nominated for “most promising actor” at France’s equivalent of the Oscars. The film shows at 8 p.m. at the Avalon Theater, 5612 Connecticut Ave. NW. $9.75. (202) 966-6000. —Mark Jenkins

It’s about time that the Dutch alt-rockers of Racoon locked their sights on State-side success. Formed in 1997, the band has spent the last decade crafting a style of fervent balladry comparable to late-’90s alternative radio staples such as Counting Crows and Semisonic. But it’s only with its third and latest album, Another Day, that Racoon has leapt into Holland’s national spotlight—going so far as to receive an official endorsement by the Dutch government. So, now they’re finally getting around to touring the United States; after all, once the ruling body of a band’s home country constitutes a chunk of its fan base, expanding its range of influence across the globe is clearly next on the to-do list. Racoon performs with the Lemonheads and the New Rivals at 8 p.m. at the Black Cat, 1811 14th St. NW. $17. (202) 667-7960. —Matthew A. Stern

Okay so yeah, the Caps are still totally in last place in the Eastern Conference. But they are totally not dead last in the NHL.

According to inside sources, when asked about the Washington Capitals, Washington City Paper City Lights Editor Matthew Borlik said, “Fuck yeah, 29th best team in the league! Suck it, L.A. Kings!”