World-famous Czech director and rabbit aficionado Milos Forman comes to the AFI Silver tomorrow night to speak after the screening of his 1975 film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Forman isn’t quite the force he was back in the ’60s, when he helped spearhead the Czech New Wave with films like The Firemen’s Ball and The Lives of a Blonde; he’s directed only two movies in the past ten years, one of ‘em has the misfortune of being Man on the Moon, and his last acting gig was in Edward Norton’s worst movie. But none of that takes a thing away from Cuckoo’s Nest, Nicholson’s last great role before a five-year rut that included infamous clunkers like The Missouri Breaks and Goin’ South. More info at the AFI Silver’s Web site.

Your last chance to see George Pelecanos in the D.C. area for—eh, a couple of weeks—is tonight at the Borders Baileys Crossroads, where he’ll be reading from his new novel, The Turnaround. If you’re a “real Washingtonian,” consider studying up.

Roosh V, no longer the blogger known as the DC Bachelor (he’s moved on over to Rooshv.com), finds that since he quit his job as a microbiologist to, among other things, self-publish a book about how to get laid, is still getting laid. It’s just by another type of girl. One who doesn’t care about money and doesn’t hang out at, say, Lima, Park, or Indebleu. A girl Roosh V will, for lack of a better turn of phrase, call a “down-to-earth hippie girl who likes hummus and art.” These girls, according to Roosh V, hang out at, say, Bossa, Marvin, and the Reef. Just FYI.

Also FYI: Roosh V is following his bang-up book Bang (no subtitle by intention so that dudes can read it in coffee shops without everyone knowing they’re losers looking for advice on how to get laid) with another as-yet-untitled book about how to get laid in South America. Roosh V—a 29-year-old U of M grad now living in his dad’s basement in Silver Spring—took an extended trip there upon leaving the soul-sucking existence some call a job. Brazillian “game” will be interspersed with some travel writing, he says.

“Brazillian girls, they’re completely different,” says Roosh V. “They’re warmer. They’re more sensual. They don’t expect you to do anything but show up.”

He’s still deciding if he should self-publish the sequel or try and go for it within the soul-sucking existence some call legitimate publishing. In the meantime, he is chronicling the “14 Problems With Americans in One Picture.” No. 2: Bad Hair—”Men who dip their heads in buckets of pomade wax. Women who don’t let their hair grow out to proper feminine length (small of back).”

(photo courtesy of bangfieldguid.com)

Over at the Post’s Comic Riffs blog, Michael Cavna bravely attempts to make a case for the District as a comedy-rich zone. The inspiration for his ranting is the latest issue of GQ: The second-best glossy men’s magazine* strangely proclaimed Montreal “Funniest City.” Cavna is bothered that D.C. is behind Montreal, but I think that’s only what we deserve—after all, we took their crummy baseball team and made it worse. And I’m not buying Cavna’s argument that we’re funny because we produced Dave Chappelle, Wanda Sykes, and Lewis Black. All three of those comedians had to get out of D.C. to get any sort of traction in their careers.**

* I’m an Esquire guy. Mainly for “What I’ve Learned.” But also this.

** And, Wanda Sykes? Not that funny.

Now to find the pigs, chickens, cows, and/or goats. A former colleague whose name rhymes with Joe Eaton is convinced someone somewhere in the bounds of the District of Columbia keeps some form of livestock on their property…. Anyone have any leads on this?

If you haven’t quite finished nerding out on George Pelecanos, you have a couple more options in addition to his readings this week. Today Akashic Books (founded by Johnny Temple, frontman of the onetime D.C. band Girls Against Boys) announced a pair of readings attached to D.C. Noir 2, a collection of classic District-set fiction. Pelecanos edited the book, and he’ll appear at a pair of readings for it. The first is September 9 at Busboys and Poets, where he’ll be joined by Marita Golden and other contributors. The second is September 23 at the Friendship Heights Borders; other guests for that reading haven’t been announced.

Holly Hughes, editor of the much-loved Best Food Writing anthologies, has discovered what we here at City Paper have known for some time: Tim Carman is doing great work when it comes to telling food stories.

We also have to agree with Hughes that Carman’s Young & Hungry column in defense of fat and the processed food he dares to love is among his best. “Fat’s What I’m Talking About,” which ran in the March 28 edition, will appear in Best Food Writing 2008.

Here’s a sample:

Ever since that Crisco cookie, I’ve reconnected with some of the foods, or some of the places, I used to like before I felt the need to squirrel away my pedestrian eating habits. You know what? I still really like the Burrito Supreme at Taco Bell, particularly when the pimply kid pumps the sour cream evenly across the beans, shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese, ground beef, and diced tomatoes. I also can’t believe how much I drool over the crumbly biscuits at Popeyes; they’re even tastier after you slather them with strawberry jam squeezed from a packet. And I swear that some days the cracker-crust pizza at Stained Glass Pub in Silver Spring tastes better than any of those boutique pies—especially when you can play Buzztime trivia while eating.

The book, out in the fall, compiles the best writing from newspapers, magazines, and, in recent years, blogs. Past editions have included well-known food writers Ruth Reichl, Jeffrey Steingarten, R.W. Apple, Calvin Trillin, and Todd Kliman (former columnist at City Paper and current dining editor at Washingtonian), among others. We’re delighted that Carman, who has been writing the Y&H column since March 2006, is in their deserving company.

…I thought the movie theater’s manager was toast. Toast, I tell ya. He was swarmed—swarmed!—by middle-aged ladies who had to wait in line to enter a documentary screening because they had pre-purchased their tickets online. Meanwhile, people who just walked right up to the ticket booth were able to then walk right in. It was scandalous! They wanted answers! The manager told them that the Internet tickets guaranteed them a seat, but the staff still had to scan in their printouts. The scanning part was the reason for the line.

“That’s not the way it’s supposed to work!”

“What’s the point of pre-purchasing!”

“This isn’t what happens with Fandango!”

“I want to talk to a manager!”

The best part? The ladies made all this ruckus entering a documentary about the Chilean judge who, after investigating the murder and disappearance of thousands and the god-awful torture of thousands more, indicted Augusto Pinochet. The General and the Judge was a moving, courageous film that proves living in or near Chevy Chase, D.C., is not all that bad.

The judge (Juan Guzman) was there, as was the filmmaker, Elizabeth Farnsworth, former senior correspondent and fill-in anchor at the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer. The post-film panel was moderated by Lehrer. Margaret Warner was there, too. In other words: Way to klass up the joint ladies!

Truly, though, see the film. It airs as part of the P.O.V. series on PBS. WETA will show it Wednesday, Aug. 20, at 10 p.m.

In this week’s “What’s Your Problem?” I spoke with performance artist Holly Bass, who challenges media stereotypes of black women by incorporating a humongous detachable butt into her routines. In order to mock-up this bigger booty, Bass invented what she calls “booty balls,” a pair of basketballs that she straps on top of her own derrière. So, what’s the problem? I don’t want to give away the ending, but let’s just say it involved some tightening up of some loose, err … okay, okay, some loose basketballs. Below: the evolution of Bass’s booty.

“WNBA” at the Hip Hop Theater Festival, 2007

Learn more about Bass’s work in “Fake Your Booty,” Maura Judkis’ feature about Bass’s booty work.