Crawling Back On The Gyllenwagon. Kind Of.

Those of you unfortunate enough to have been acquainted with me and this blog back in 2008 will probably remember the extremely intense, protracted, disturbing, only slightly ironic and (hopefully intentionally) hilarious phase during which my universe revolved around Jake Gyllenhaal. It was a time which birthed truly epic posts, the likes of which I may never create again, simply because I cannot remember how I managed to muster that level of fanatic attachment to this one man.


Oh. I think I remember now.

Luckily for all of us, that phase eventually passed, and I learned to dole out healthy doses of obsession among a wide and varied collection of unattainable famous boyfriends. But Jake of the Gyllenhaals will forever remain the biggest and most influential celebrity crush of my young life, and recently I found myself wondering what he might be up to these days, and that maybe I should go catch up with him, for old times' sake.

And then I see this.




WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY, JACOB.

Now, I admit I was kind of aware of the fact that they were allegedly dating, but the news never really registered in my mind, for some reason. I was ready for the outbreak of blog posts which would eventually reveal one of three things :

1. They were just good friends, and the whole thing was being misconstrued by the gossip media.
2. It was an opportunistic PR stunt to promote his new movie and her new album.
3. The whole thing was an elaborately crafted Photoshop hoax, designed to make me cry (I didn't).

Fortunately, they did break up at some point while I still wasn't looking, but not before all this nonsense took place. Behold :

a. Walking romantically down the street in a ridiculously inconvenient fashion.



What do you two clowns think you're doing? What is this? Why does your hand need to be draped so senselessly across his chest like that, Taylor? Why would you two choose to stroll down this lovely city sidewalk in the manner most restrictive to your physical mobility? Does (the illusion of) romance take such precedence over normal human movement? What happened to walking side by side, and maybe holding hands? Why do let yourselves walk so stupidly, Gooberballs?


Much better. Idiots.


b. Buying hipster coffee, all hipsterishly.



Ugh.

c. Contaminating Maggie Gyllenhaal's universe.


You really overstepped the line here, Swift. This is an outrage. Mack on Jake all you want, but this? This is Maggie Gyllenhaal we're talking about. You can't just touch her kid, or her grocery shopping, or breathe her air, or be seen with her in public. Do you know how disgusted - oh. She actually looks...happy to have you around. I don't...I can't.... Is she also a part of all this? Did she get roped into this performance? How am I supposed to carry on when I can't place my faith in a Gyllenhaal any longer? What has this family come to??


After all this foolishness, came the news that Jake had broken up with Taylor over the phone.



And so all the pretty princess unicorns wept.


And I was ever more convinced that this was nothing more than a publicity thing taken a bit too far. I have nothing against Taylor Swift as a person, even if I do think her music is vapid, albeit catchy, and her overall image perpetuates a few things I simply cannot stand (princess culture nonsense and a fair amount of slut-shaming in her videos, not to mention the perpetual virginal-white-dress-of-purity). This whole debacle, whatever it was, seemed far too staged, too odd, and generally did not make sense. I guess I just cannot see what a guy like Jake could find attractive in a girl like Taylor (as opposed to a girl like, oh I don't know, ME). I suppose she's pretty. But what did they even talk about while they were dating? Taylor Swift, from what I can tell, is a 22 year-old with the mindset and world view - romantically, at least - of a 15 year old. Everything about this screams "PR sham".

edit : These days I'm more convinced that Swift is actually much shrewder and smarter than I gave her credit for, and that all her musical pandering to the fairy-dust-teardrops-on-my-guitar brand of eternal high school romance is just her evil genius way of winding her core audience firmly around her little finger. But that's another post for another day.


No; if anything, this has brought Jake down a few pedestals in my eyes. It's one thing to date a younger woman, but another story entirely to do it in the interests of a PR-friendly hookup (which is most likely the case here). For shame, Jacob. I honestly thought you were made of better stuff than that. And why, really? Why, Jacob? Both you and Taylor are perfectly prolific, marketable and attractive on your own terms. Why together? Why you? Fire your publicist, child. I should never have taken my eyes off you, post-Reese Witherspoon. I didn't like that much either, but at least she was a grown-ass woman who knew what she was doing and was less likely to be in the grip of romantic fairy dust high school delusions.



You know I'm serious when I actually start yearning for the old days of yore when GyllenSpoon was all the rage (GyllenSpoon. Heh).

But then I hopped over to Youtube and watched some new interviews of you, and by god Jake. you are as charming, hilarious, sensitive, sincere, dorky and adorable as you ever were. Consider myself half-smitten again, Jacob. But the road to redemption is a long and rocky one, and I've got one eye planted firmly on you from this day forth. So don't try anything shady. Now buckle up and get ready for that awful, awful, awful song that is going to be written about you any day now.



edit : This is evidently ancient news, but I had actually drafted this post up last September, and having come across it today, decided to publish it anyway. Why waste a perfectly good Gyllenblogging opportunity, amiright?

"If There's Anything More Important Than My Ego Around, I Want It Caught And Shot Right Now".

First things first; Happy Towel Day, peasants! Or rather, Happy Day After Towel Day Day. I am regrettably late, but even as I type right now I have draped my fluffiest towel across the chair in honour of Paranoid Androids, pajamas and Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters, among other wonderful things.



I've spent the last couple of weeks doing all sorts of rather unproductive things, like painting my fingernails green and reading books I've already read and pondering my future. The future, which encapsulates such terrifying things, like whether or not my roommate-to-be at university is going to be the kind of person who leaves her underwear on the floor or blows cigarette smoke in my face or listens to Korean pop all day or something. And exactly what I'll be majoring in (degrees seem so overrated at the moment) and having to leave home and inevitably get lost in the city and essentially have to grow the hell up. This is pretty much the last time I'll be calling this house my home for the next three years, at the very least.


The only thing I know for sure at the moment is that this guy's music has been eating my soul (in a good way) all week.



Screw tertiary education! I don't need a respectable job. I'm moving to Sweden and making friends with Kristian Matsson and we're going to sit around drinking tea and fiddling around in record stores all day and then at sunset we'll go up to some random ridiculously gorgeous lakeside hill and serenade the valley with finger-picking folk-troubadour ballads, dammit. Oh Scandinavia. Why so awesome?

[In all seriousness, be kind to yourself and go listen to his debut album. Right this minute would be ideal. ]

In other news, mine own Jake of the Gyllenhaals continues on his epic promotional stint for Prince of Persia, which I am not going to see for reasons already mentioned. However, I simply cannot get over this little gem from a recent interview:

What was the most difficult thing about shooting Prince of Persia?
JG: You know, I've gotta say the most difficult part of this film was buckling the swash. Swashbuckling isn't so easy. In order to buckle the swash it takes a pretty proficient swashbuckler. So buckling the swash every day was pretty difficult. That was probably the most difficult. I mean you really gotta buckle, like if you're gonna buckle it, you swashily buck the swash. You gotta own it in order to swash buckle.

Oh Jakey G. You win at life, you know that?

He Is Going To Be My Future Husband, Only He Doesn't Know It Yet.

It has been far far too long since I last fangirled over Jake. Nearly 6 months now, I believe. My love affair with the man, those faithful readers of this here blog would remember, began sometime in late February of last year, and progressed rapidly to a point where my nearest and dearest began to voice serious concerns about my mental health and whether or not I was actually being ironic anymore. I am happy to say that I have now achieved a happy medium between activities of fangirldom and maintaining some semblance of sanity so that I don't scare off my remaining friends. It is in this spirit that I now present to you a brief update (I use this term loosely) on what Jacob of the Gyllenhaals has been up to since I last proclaimed undying love for him through the extremely public forum of bloggagery.

JakeDate November 2009

1. Getting kinky with octopuses. Octopuseses. Octopi.


I'm kidding. The inappropriately placed purple sea creature was simply part of a video shoot to promote Sesame Street's 40th Anniversary celebrations, which Jake happened to be heavily involved in. This is only natural, because we know that Jake's awesomeness inevitably includes power and sovereignity over all muppets, puppets and fuzzy inanimate creatures. Ignore the other so-called celebrities; they are only present as a result of Jake's great and noble generosity.
Here he is singing some song about sunny days,and being indisputably gorgeous while he does .



Huh. Catchy.


2. Promoting some new movie he's in called Prince of Persia

which I will pretend does not exist, because no matter how buff and dirty and pseudo-British he is in it, it is just too much and it looks way too bad to be true. You should all pretend it does not exist, too.


3. Getting in some quality father-son time.


Jake, being the tender and loving soul that he is, takes family ties very seriously and always grabs every opportunity to catch up with his folks and strengthen that age-old bond forged by blood. Here he is strolling down the street with his dad Stephen Gyllenhaal (you may also want to think of him as my Pretend Future Father-in-Law). All I want to know is what's in the bag.


4. Catching Up On Tennis.



It is no secret that Jake is an athlete and enjoys all forms and varieties of sport. Here he is very much enjoying a match at the US Open some months ago. If the camera angle had shifted just a little to the left, you would have been able to see Bruce Willis.
Not that it's relevant, or anything. Just saying, y'know.


5. Getting himself up to date on all the fabulous new music released this year.

Here we see him plugged in to his trusty ipod, and judging by the look on his face, he is probably listening to something really really genius and transcendant and profound, like the mix I made for him just a few weeks ago. Really, I think he's enjoying it. I'm still awaiting a thank you e-mail.


6. Making straight Scottish men seem all confused about their sexuality.

Travis, on their recent road tour around the US, told their fans all about how they wrote this particular song after being moved to tears by one of Gyllenhaal's earlier films, Moonlight Mile. They then went on to say how good-looking they all thought he was, and even brought out a bit of a slide presentation to compare the merits of a shirtless Gyllenhaal versus a fully-clothed Gyllenhaal. You cannot make this stuff up, I tell you.




Not all of Jake's exploits over the last month have been on a positive note, however.

7. Shameless flirting.

OMG WHO IS SHE?
What is this asshattery, Jacob? I mean I understand how your innate attractiveness and all-round awesomeness pretty much guarantee that women of all ages will be basically throwing themselves all over you in my absence, but really. I take my eyes off you for like half a year and this happens. And you've even got your dog doing half the dirty work for you while you feign ignorance. There goes all that moolah we spent sending the animal to obedience school. Jake? Jake?? Are you even listening to me anymore? Really, it's like we're falling apart here.


Also, because she is Awesome and must never be ignored, here is Maggie Gyllenhaal a.k.a my Pretend Future Sister-in-Law having some eats with her husband Peter Saaaaaaaaaaaarsgard in NYC.



Also because this may very likely be my last post until mid-December due to exams (wish me luck! and the fortitude to resist the urge to indulge in academic procrastination) and also for pure Awwwww! factor, I give you Jake. And Elmo.


You will perish of the cute. You will.

My Man, He's Looking Fly As Hell

Just when my deep and passionate love for him was on the wane, and I was being a very good little girl by not mentioning him in every other sentence and all, the man goes and sticks his extremely gorjuss noggin in a Jamie Foxx video and makes me fall in lust with him all over again.



Look at him! All fly and tight in his little trilby and scarf combo, driving Forest Whitaker and Ron Howard around town in the shiny gangsta car, knocking back champagne and shit as if the mofo's been doing it his whole life or something. There are also about 347 other celebrities in that video, if you can spot them, but I honestly do not care. Also Mr. Foxx, there are way too many shots of Man In Panda Costume and waaaaaay too little Gyllenhaal. Way too little. You will pay for your disgusting and quite possibly deliberate under-utilization of Jake's general Awesomeness, Gorgeousness, and apparently deep-seated Gangsta-ness. You will pay, sir.