Why, why, oh why Gong Li, did you arrived in my mailbox broken and beyond repair?!?!?

Despite Mr. Winter’s brutal tyrannical presence outside -he came armed with a baton of freeze and strapped with a machine gun that spews snow,  I bravely faced Winter and went out to get the Netflix DVD in my mailbox. The cold-steel  -but remarkably clean and refreshing-  breath (man, i gota ask that dude for his secret on how he keeps his breath so perpetually winterfresh) of Mr. Winter has finally been blown onto Boston for the first time (Mr. Winter has delayed his habitual seasonal trip to Boston by taking a quick and mischievous detour to the south of USA, it was reported that he had been snowing on Dallas, Atlanta, and other normally warm places; the fact that it snowed first in Dallas before Boston is proof of _______? cue Al Gore jumping on his couch TomCruise-style while watching the Weather Channel and yelling “I told You So!!!” …an inconvenient truth indeed, and i’ll tell you another inconvenient truth: Al Gore is an Alien haha just kidding…or am I?).

The aphrodisiac of Anticipation is arousing my blood because i know that one of Gong Li’s hot movies is lying like a seductive genie in a bottle: only this time the bottle is in the form of my cold metal mailbox.

I will resist the stupid temptation to rub the mailbox as if Gong Li will magically appear out of the thin cold air. or will I?

Just put in the damn key Maurice, you moronic monkey.

Ohh grreeat, he did it, look at him rubbing the mailbox like an immature pervert.

It is so cold, that I got goosebumps on my arm… It is so cold, that the goose in goosebumps died of frostbite.   

But, no stinkin’ Snow, nor any foe called Cold, can deter me to see the beauty of Gong Li.

To my American audience, the name Gong Li might be unfamiliar to your ears. This weird Chinese name is probably gona stir to ruin your apple pie of american names. After many months of hearing Britney this Britney that Paris Hilton this Paris Hilton that and Lindsey Lohan this and Lohan that I won’t blame ya…

The last hurrah, the last swan song of 1965, before 1966 rushes in to steal the one year glory, gave to the world a beautiful Chinese baby loaded with talent and allure.

1965 gave us many many beautiful and talented people:  Diane Lane, Chris Rock, Dr. Dre, Sarah Jessica Parker (here many people would say she is a no talent bitch, i say whatever), Robert Downey Jr, Brooke Shields, Shania Twain, Charlie Sheen, etc.  But, before 1965 died by excess sleeping pills that 1966 put in her favorite drink, she saved the best for last: on New Year’s Eve 1965, a babygirl by the name Gong Li was born in China.

Of course, on new year’s day of 1966, one can hear a loud profanity laced curse uttered for all to hear all over the world: “DAMN U 1965, U BITCH!!! GONG LI WAS TO BE MINES!!! U FUCKING SLY BITCH!!!” …and, of course, many people thought it was their drunk aunt who uttered it in the next room.

Gong Li quickly became a star actress. She can perform a nice girl beautifully. Yet, she can perform a bitch/whore beautifully. An actress that embraced the yin and yang of life and enacted it with a fierce empathy is…simply…gifted. She has been compared to Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, and Audrey Hepburn. But those analogies owe an apology to this aphorism: for Gong Li is just Gong Li -and no other. 

oh yea, And those boobs…

Anyways,

the American audience are slowly, but surely, starting to find out about her. She’d most recently graced the silver screens in Memoirs of a Geisha and Miami Vice. And she even more recently graced the silver screen of my mind -cheapest movie ticket i ever had, and i even get to select which scenes i want, in the immortal words of Quagmire from the tv series Family Guy: “gigitty-gigitty-goo-ga!…alllllllllllllllllright!!!”  

The Anticipation was truely arousing, my eyes are about to get re-acquainted with Gong Li. I held the Netflix dvd on my hand as if i was holding a trophy I had just won and gaurding it with my life. I held it like the way George Bush holds the Bible: religiously and irrationally. Retrospection has deemed this as rather really pathetic, no, correction: not just pathetic, but pathetic with an elvis-esque pompadour, but at the moment, my sanity is clouded by primitive urges. Gong Li is just a woman who happens to be talented and beautiful -but on dvd-format in high-definition television she is a Goddess.

I am now in the comfort and warmth of my home. I greedily open the Netflix package. Anticipation is about to become Fulfillment…a tear hear and a tear there…and here we go, yes, finally, what the….

The Anticipation Died. Murdered by a broken marr on the disc. A big crack on the disc that for the moment was worse than any bomb in Iraq. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Stark Reality finally set in. And then I screamed. Frustration and “fucks” with exclaimation marks filled the air.

How could you Gong Li? How could you come to me broken and beyond repair? You Bitch! Bitch!!!