Happy Halloween!!!

I hope everyone has a great Halloween!

My Halloween Costume (Fail)- Freddie Mercury

As most of you know- because I yaked on about it enough- I'm going as Freddie Mercury for Halloween.

I take dressing up very seriously.

Maybe even a little too seriously.

For some reason, I still believe that if I truly want to become someone, I will physically transform into them.

Imagine my disappointment when after dressing up as Freddie Mercury last night, I realized I'm still just a tiny white girl and not a large-toothed, hairball Parsi with the vocal cords of a God.

1.) I survived a visit to Austin's favorite costume store- Lucy In Disguise With Diamonds- to pick up my Freddie mustache, chest hair, spirit gum (adhesive), and spirit gum remover.

2.) I asked the employee if they sell chest hair and she handed me what looked like a stoner's ratty chin braid. Once home, I unraveled the lock of hair to discover the left-overs of Alec Baldwin getting a full body shave.

3.) I could barely contain my excitement of donning chest hair later in the evening...

4.) But when I put it on, I realized that I looked like Robin Williams and I got scared.

4.) My excitement now deflated, I decided to move onto to the mustache. I trimmed it a little bit, then slopped on as much spirit gum as I could.

5.) Oh, dear God...

6.) I realized that I had to stop being a pussy...

7.) ...And own Freddie Mercury.

Who am I kidding? I look like I ate Burt Reynolds circa 1972 and then regurgitated him all over myself.

What are you going as for Halloween?

Last Minute Hipster Halloween Costume- Your Ideas

Yesterday's post regarding last minute hipster Halloween costume ideas had such positive feedback that I wanted to hear your ideas!

Y'all are so clever...

Hall and Oates- (for Hall) blonde mullet, leather jacket or private detective coat, a list with a woman's kiss print on it, (for Oates) jheri curl wig, mustache, t-shirt with arms cut off, the ability to handle being second fiddle OR I like @dj_orion's idea better: carry around a bag of oats and when people ask what you're doing say, "I'm haulin' oats."

Antoine Dodson- black undershirt, red handkerchief, jheri curl wig, sass, discomfort in knowing that there is something still slightly racist about making fun of this (via josh)

The Hipster Grifter- pixie wig, headband, any Urban Outfitters ensemble, fake tattoos on chest, a copy of Vice Magazine, the weight of the world's hate on your shoulders (via @pollysyllabick)

Marc Bolan- Jheri curl wig, Bowie's hand-me-down fitted velvet three piece suit, boa, and glittery cheekbones (@leviharris)

Zombie David Foster Wallace- long hair wig in pony tail, frameless glasses, flannel, a copy of Infinite Jest, green and white make-up, a noose around your neck  (@benjamindobbin)

Burt Reynolds on Bear Skin Rug-nude underwear around your junk, spirit gum synthetic hair all over your chest and stomach, mustache, cigarette, oh, and a bear skin rug  (via @lugzzz)

Cast of Saved by the Bell- (group costume)-hold up an American Apparel (via @dunphy16)

All of Daniel Day-Lewis' Characters COMBINED!- a mustache, a top hat, a vintage suit with bow tie, a low rumbling voice with an accent of your choosing, a weapon and/or sidekick of your choosing, sex appeal in a bottle (via lola)

Juggalo- and ICP t-shirt, various gothic caccessories and make-up from Hot Topic, a mailing address that is your parent's basement, a deeply rooted hate for the world and yourself (via @mexikinda)

Dr. Strangelove- wheelchair, suit and tie, tinted glasses, blonde bouffant, cigarette, glove, German accent,
love for Peter Sellers (via Jenny) 

Spinal Tap (group costume)- black spandex leggings, guitar, rock star wigs and mullets, foil wrapped cucumber in pants, a sandwich with a toy shark in it, herpes on upper lip.

Corky St. Clair (for the advanced Christopher Guest fan)- blonde toupe, reading glasses, Judy Tenuta t-shirt or silk kimono, My Dinner With Andre action figures, a lisp, and an absent "wife". 

Maura Kelly (Marie Claire despised blogger)- a generous amount of self-loathing, covered by a thin veil (via @zeppomarxist) and clearly a shirt that says, "Thinspiration!" with a photo of Mike and Molly on it (via @inflammatorywrt)

Last Minute Hipster Halloween Costume Ideas

I'd say about 90% of people wait until the last friggin' possible minute to get their Halloween costume. I know this because having worked at a clothing store that is popular around Halloween time encourages every asshole to come in the day of wanting to dress like a 70's porn star or an 80's aerobic instructor and they think they're the first person on the planet to ever come up with that idea.

Some people wait until the last minute because they have no idea what the hell they're going to wear.

If you're one of those people, then look no further.

I have your one-stop last minute hipster Halloween costume go-to guide below.

First, if you're a good hipster, you will already have these items in your collection:

1.) top hat

2.) mustaches of various shapes and colors

3.) bow ties

4.) ties

5.) suspenders

6.) suits- two piece and three piece and of various color and material

7.) horn-rimmed glasses

8.) loafers

9.) vest

10.) Wayfarers

11.) wigs of various shapes and colors- particularly a Justin Bieber wig

12.) fur coat

13.) silk scarves

14.) doo-rag

All of these items must be stored in an old traveling trunk plastered in stickers that you found at a thrift store a long time ago. If you don't own these items, you are not a genuine hipster (and you're probably very happy about that).

For more ideas, also check out last week's post, "Halloween Costume Ideas for Girls with Penis Envy".

Last Minute Hipster Halloween Costume Ideas

Ira Glass- Two piece suit, tie, horn-rimmed glasses, silver hair spray, Woody Allen dialect.

Rachel Maddow- Two piece suit, Justin Bieber wig with bangs combed up, wit and sarcasm.

Jimmy McMillan- suit with "Rent Is Too Damn High" written all over it, doo-rag with "Rent Is Too Damn High" all over it, epic side burn-to-mustache-to-soul patch facial hair, sass.

David Byrne- XXL suit, hangar contraption to hold suit up, horn-rimmed glasses, vacant expression and monotone voice.

David Bowie- too many Bowies to count, but if you want early 70's Bowie- any sort of shiny bodysuit, Justin Bieber wig teased, gold make-up, shaved eyebrows, giant cock...er, I mean sock in crotch of bodysuit.

Bret Easton Ellis Character and/or 80's James Spader- white linen suit with no shirt, loafers, Wayfarers, ring of blood around nostrils, Justin Bieber wig with highlights or slicked back, indifference and ambivalence.

Chuck Bass- white suit or any velour, wildly colored suit, shirt that only buttons to your diaphragm, silk scarf, furrowed eyebrows, smugness, and stifled British accent.

Truman Capote- white suit or any velour, wildly colored suit, vest, bow tie, horn-rimmed glasses, floppy hat, pinky ring, high-pitched voice, and ability to talk incessantly about yourself.

Little Edie- fur coat, doo-rag with broach, faux-aristocratic Hamptons accent, 40 cats on your arms.

Laura Palmer- 20 tons of Saran wrap, white make-up, blue lipstick, eyes closed, and no talking.

Ernest Hemingway- gigantic beard, turtle-neck wool sweater, rum bottle, misogyny.

Zach Galifianakis- gigantic beard, turtle-neck wool sweater, rum bottle, self-deprecation and awkwardness. Oh, and pregnant bump.

Gram Parsons- 70's embroidered button-up shirt, shell necklace, Justin Bieber wig with minor extensions, an acoustic guitar, a pocket full of LSD, and an extreme love of UFOs and the Joshua Tree.

Tell me your ideas!

The F'ed Up Deaths of Soul Singers

It was a Sam Cooke Pandora station kind of day.
Where silky-voiced soul singers played roulette on my computer.
Sam Cooke. Otis Redding. Marvin Gaye. Tammy Terrell. Curtis Mayfield. Jackie Wilson.
All unparalleled talent that died way too young.

Then I realized, "Wait a minute- they all died in some really f'd up ways too."

Plane crashes, shootings, falling stage equipment, brain tumors, hot grits (nobody actually died from having hot grits thrown on them, but Al Green did become a born again afterwards). There was no shortage of colorful murders and deaths in the soul world.

Let's start with the most insane first:

Sam Cooke- Cooke was one of the most prolific R&B singers of his time. With 19 albums and 29 Top 40 singles under his belt by the age of 33, it looked like nothing was going to stop this young man from taking over the world. Except for maybe a seedy motel manager in South Central with a gun and a broom. Cooke loved his ladies and his booze and unfortunately the two did not mix well the night of December 11th, 1964. The official story is that Cooke brought a lady against her will back to the Hacienda Hotel in South Los Angeles with the intention of raping her. The woman fled and in a rage, Cooke busted into the hotel manager's office half-naked and all like, "Where the f did my lady friend go?". The pant-less Cooke tussled with the hotel manager and out of fear for her life, she shot him in the gut and then beat him with a broom. Shortly thereafter, the validity of the lady friend's account came into question since she was a prostitute and many feel she had stolen Cooke's money. Regardless, the talented singer, who brought so much music to the world, died in terrible vain. Luckily for him, his contribution to the music world has mostly overshadowed the fact that his last minutes on earth were looking at broom bristles smacking his naked body.

Marvin Gaye Jr.- Unlike Cooke, Gaye's murder has stuck more in the mind's of music lovers for decades. Another gentleman who liked his ladies and recreational drugs, Gaye found his life spiraling out of control by the late 70's. He battled depression and suicidal thoughts (there is suggestion that the death of his good friend/singing partner Tammi Terrell ignited this). Wanting to make a change, Gaye decided to turn his life around by the early 80's and moved in with his parents to watch porn. Yeah, bad move. Gaye often fought with his father, Marvin Sr., and during a particularly heated argument, Jr. started smacking Sr. around and then Sr., gettin' all pissy, up and shoots Jr. in the chest. The bullet made an epic journey through his lung then heart then diaphragm then liver then stomach then kidney then taking a rest stop in his torso. Gaye was 44 years-old when he died and on his way to making a comeback. Lesson here? Moving back in with your folks can cost you your life.

Otis Redding-  Outside of Tammi Terrell, Redding was the youngest of the soul singers to pass away. It's amazing to think all that Mr. Sitter on the Dock of the Bayer offered in the 26 years of his life. Redding got his start by joining the R&B group, The Pinetoppers, in 1960. Soon enough, he was recording his own solo work. Back then, Redding impressed the shit out of his peers with his melancholic voice and knack for writing his own songs. In 1967, Redding and his band were in a puddle jumper en route to Wisconsin when it crashed in Lake Monona. Redding's manager and band (all except one) were on the plane. Everyone on the plane died except for trumpeter Ben Cauley. You know what happens when you're a kick ass soul singer who dies in a plane crash? You get a stamp and a creepy bronze statue made of you.

Curtis Mayfield- Unlike the others, Mayfield's death didn't happen immediately, but over many painful years. Mayfield had lived a pretty solid life up until August 13th, 1990 when lighting equipment fell on him onstage and paralyzed him from the neck down. I know, right? If that weren't bad enough, the poor dude had his leg amputated eight years later. That didn't keep ol' Superfly from recording though. According to his Wikipedia page, that motherf'er would record vocals on his back line-by-line. Mayfield died in 1999 due to complications from his paralysis and I firmly believe he should win a posthumous superhero award.

Others:
Tammi Terrell- Brain tumor at the age of 24
Jackie Wilson- Heart attack while appearing onstage at the age of 49
Dave Prater (Sam & Dave)- Single-car accident at the age of 50
Michael Jackson- Imploded into oblivion at the age of 50
Rick James- Heart attack in my old apartment building at the Oakwoods in Burbank, CA at the age of 56
Barry White- Stroke at the age of 58
Ike Turner- Crack overdose at the age of 76 (and bff with my friend Chris)

Who am I forgetting? Who is your favorite soul singer?

Pop Goes The Reality Bubble

Producer's assistant on movie set- 21 years-old, happy and carefree

Staying on theme with last Friday's post about twenty-somethings.

When I was a little girl, I always knew I wanted to work in the film business. When the opportunity surprisingly presented itself at 20 years of age, I jumped at the chance.

I was in my junior year at Ithaca College when I applied and was admitted to the communication school's LA satellite program. My father and I drove from New York to California with what I could fit in my '97 white Ford Taurus. Once settled in LA, my first task was to find an internship. I sifted through the database of internships given to us, but none of them appealed to me. I decided I would cold call companies where I knew I wanted to work (George Clooney and Steven Soderberg's Section 8, Ben Stiller's Red Hour, Drew Barrymore's Flower Pictures), but there was one actor in particular I was itching to work for. I called his office and asked if they needed an intern. They said not really but to call back in a week. I did and with little convincing got them to agree to letting me come in twice a week. The internship was painfully boring. I spent most of my time reading old scripts and surfing the Internet on an Apple Imac G3. I hated it. Is this what Hollywood is like? I wasn't learning anything!

The semester came to a close and our final project was to interview someone in the business. They suggested that we not be afraid to interview people other than the assistants, so I immediately asked if I could interview the president of the actor's company. The assistant scheduled a time for me to meet with the president and a few days later I found myself nervously asking him questions on the office rooftop. We talked for three hours and within that time the president asked me if I wanted to move to LA and be his assistant.

That very second has been the most pivotal moment in my life up to this point. If my story were a movie, that moment would have frozen in time and everything that came before then would have fast forward in front of my eyes. I reminded the president that I was only a junior in college and knew absolutely nothing about the business. He laughed and said, "You'll learn." I told him that I had to think about it and would give him an answer the next day. My memory has been escaping me as of late, but I'll probably never forget the 30 minutes after that conversation. The mix of anxiety and excitement. "She's So Heavy (I Want You)" by the Beatles playing on the radio. I already knew in the bottom of my heart what the answer would be, but I had parents, a boyfriend, and a college to explain this all to.

The first person I called was my mother, "Mom, I've been offered an opportunity that I can't pass up." I explained to her the details and being the wonderful mother that she is, she trusted my judgement. My father is gung-ho for anything so that took no convincing at all. My boyfriend suddenly knew it was the end of our relationship before I ever did.

I had three weeks after the end of the semester to tie up loose ends and move to Los Angeles. I spent most of those weeks crying. I was not fearful of making a mistake, but rather realizing that I was moving 3000 miles from the people I love and my life as I knew it was about to change forever.

Boy, was I right.

I moved to Los Angeles on June 1st, 2004. 12 days later I celebrated my 21st birthday alone and it set the precedent for a feeling that I would have for most of my five years in Los Angeles.

Being the young, idealistic 21 year-old that I was, I gave my life to that job. I worked countless hours and was proud of where I was. Was I always good at the job? Absolutely not. I didn't have the industry skills nor many of the life skills yet to deal with aspects of the job and living in Los Angeles. However, I was determined to make it work and gave it my all. I was going to make it in that biz.

Five years later, after consistent bouts of anxiety attacks, drinking myself to sleep, vapid relationships, and phone calls to my parents crying, "What does it all mean?!" I finally had to ask myself, "But make it to what in the biz? What do you actually want, Lauren?"

Director's assistant on TV set- 24 years old, tired and haggard

Having wanted to work in the film business my whole life mixed with the determination to make work the wonderful opportunity that was offered to me at 20, I was in absolute denial that I was completely and utterly unhappy.

If I wasn't happy working in the business I've dreamed of my whole life- the industry I went to college for- then what the hell am I supposed to do???

According to the NY Time's article, "What Is It About Twenty-Somethings?", we change jobs an estimated seven times in our 20's. Our parents scratch their heads when we tell them that we're unhappy with our jobs and want to try something completely different. Years ago you stuck with a job- just like a marriage- for good or for bad.

F that.

If I'm unhappy, if I'm having freakin' anxiety attacks, then I would be a fool to hang in there.
That's not to say that I haven't questioned my leaving Los Angeles. Did I make a huge mistake? Am I passing up a wonderful opportunity?

I spent the summer in between leaving the business and moving to Austin in a bewildered haze.
I'll never forget sitting at my desk realizing that I had no plan. I felt like a failure and a loser. For the first time in my life I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

After a bit of soul-searching I have now reached a point where I've again found career direction and feel optimistic with what the future holds. I also discovered that all of us- in one way or another- has become disillusioned with their major/career. I have an engineer friend who would rather be a teacher, a teacher who up and quit her job this year and had no plan B, a magazine writer who up and quit his job and moved to another city, a biology major working as a commercial editor, a comedy writer who left LA and moved to Austin for the same exact reason as mine. Not only have I found comfort in knowing that we're sailing this ship together, but that trying and discovering you don't like your profession is not failure, but just another step in getting to where you're supposed to be.

Are you working in the field you studied? Have you changed careers? Have you felt directionless before?

I'm Just An Animal Looking For A Home (Or The Plight of the Twenty-Something)

 

I am your typical non-committal and nonplussed twenty-something they've been devoting so much attention to in the press lately.

The Millennials who just can't get their shit together.

The person with debt. The person who rents. The person who has short-lasting relationships. The person who woke up one morning and realized that the career she is in, the career she went to college for, the field she is supposed to love and stick with for the rest of her life, just doesn't mean anything to her anymore. The person who dreams big but paralyzed about the amount of options. The person who is afraid to commit to a person or a job out of fear of what else she is missing. The person who lives a lifestyle where she can pack up and go at any minute if she's feeling too constricted.

But constricted by what?

Having so much press devoted to our generation helps us to realize we are not alone in our constant state of wonder and confusion. However, how disappointing is it to read that our generation- who has been given so much- just can't deal with...life?

I wonder what my Grandmother thinks when I call her crying about how bored I am- again- with my new job? Or contemplating just packing up and leaving and going to who knows where because I'm feeling that my life is too stagnant? Or talking her ear off for a days about what went wrong in a three month relationship?

I wait for her rebuttal with the facts that she and her generation stayed home, married young, raised families, looked after their parents, had full-time jobs. I'm all set to defend myself with, "But you don't understand! We have been given too many choices and we don't know where to start!" However, she doesn't say a word and I'm left with the silence of judging myself.

The earlier days of my writing were full of talk about twenty-something lament. In the beginning of my 20's, I felt like a ship searching for a dock, drifting aimlessly out to sea, sailing up to other ships asking them how I could find my way home. Frustrated and lost, I eventually realized it was me and me alone who had to make a change. The change I made proved to bring me the stability and comfort that I was searching for, but by no means am I quite there yet. I've only found a safe- but temporary- waterfront to dock myself to.

I am now 27. Transcending upon the home stretch to 30 has got me thinking about the seemingly endless journey that got me to where I am now.

It is utterly fascinating how you live a lifetime in each year of your 20's. You metamorphose into a new person after every 365 days. For me, sometimes it was someone I knew and loved, and sometimes a person I no longer recognized:

-20 years old- Offered a job in Los Angeles. Left family and friends to go out into the world. Full of wonder and excitement and eagerness.
-21 years old- Became acquainted with the realities of the world. That people will disappoint you. That devoting yourself to a job doesn't necessarily make you happy. That these facts will cause you to become frustrated and irritable.
-22 years old- Realized that people you love- people you reserve and share a specific part of yourself with- may not feel the same way. That people will use you for their own purposes.
-23 years old- Coped with all of the aforementioned by drinking.
-24 years old- Questioned the career field you worked in and dreamed about being in since a little girl.
-25 years old- Decided to make a change. Took a gamble by moving to a completely new place where you knew no one nor had a job.
-26 years old- Found freedom in making that change.
-27 years old- Feeling confident about what the future holds. For the first time realizing that having a family and children may not be a death sentence.

I can only imagine what the next couple of years will be like. Hopefully at that point I'll be able to stop shaking my head in agreement while reading about the plight of the Millennials.

What are/were your 20's like?

Nicolas Cage's Chest Hair May Be A Better Actor Than He

Returning to B-List Actor Thursday (though technically the actor below is A-list...Lord knows why)

Nicolas Cage is a bad actor.
There is no way around that.
Or as one friend puts it, "Nicolas Cage is the idiot savant of acting".

Sometimes it's painful to watch Nicolas Cage.
Sometimes you feel uncomfortable for him. Embarrassed. Angry. Horny.

Sometimes you find yourself pant-less staring at pictures of Nicolas Cage with no shirt on and bad hair plugs and....

Nicolas Cage is such a bad actor that when I tried discussing this fact with my father, he felt that Nicolas Cage is bad enough not to warrant a discussion about how bad he is.

"But hear me out, Pop. Nicolas Cage is so bad that he's good. When he plays serious roles, he can't do it. But when he plays over-the-top characters- he's f'ing James Dean or Brando! You following me?"

"Sure," my father said in the same tone he indulged me in as a child when I talked incessantly in the same manner about Paul Reubens and Crispin Glover.

Let's think about this for a second: being so bad at a craft that you're deemed as awesome. We all know that Van Damme, Hasselhoff, Seagal have made careers out of it. Hell, Nicolas Cage has made more movies (65) than years he has been on this planet (46), so obviously he's doing something so wrong that it's right.

However, Cage has surpassed the Van Dammes and the Seagals and somehow has straddled the line between respected actor and the butt of so, so many jokes. So what is about Nicolas Cage that has won over audience, producers, and studio executives for decades?

Well, for one, it doesn't hurt to have the last name Coppola. Sure he changed his name early in the game, but every knows that his uncle directed one of the top 2 greatest American movies of all time. Regardless of his acting ability, Cage got his foot in the door simply based off of this one word. However, Cage got that foot in the door, and like an unleashed leopard, just kept walking. Nobody slapped his ass and told him to get lost and said, "Look at that little Coppola running all the way home!" Nope. Somehow that dude endured and has been able to churn out mediocre hit after mediocre hit.

The ultimate secret to Nicolas Cage is that he's good at playing four different archetypes: 1.) The Crazy Person 2.) The Elvis Impersonator 3.) The Redneck and 4.) The Nerd. Sometimes he combines 2 or more of the characters into one and then we're really in for a treat. The other archetypes that he plays: 1.) Rouge Cop 2.) Action Hero 3.) Family Man 4.) Love Interest-  he ain't so good at.

In short, Crazy Nerdy Redneck Elvis Impersonator= Good.
Rouge Action Husband Dad Lover= Not Good.

Below are some of my favorite Nicolas Cage films and the corresponding archetypal character he plays.

What is your favorite Nicolas Cage movie?

Valley Girl (The Nerd)-
Valley Girl was Nicolas Cage's first featured movie role. He was 19 when it came out in theaters. He played a punk kid from Hollywood that falls in love with an uptight girl from The Valley. That's about the entire plot of the movie.
Why he was so likable: Not only did he nail the awkward way teenagers try to act cool, he shaved his chest hair in the shape of a "V". That alone wins points all around. It also predates when his hair started to thin and get all wonky.

Peggy Sue Got Married (The Nerd and The Elvis Impersonator)-
At 22, Nicolas Cage played both the middle-aged and teenage version of Peggy Sue's (Kathleen Turner) husband, Charlie. The middle-aged version was unhappy in his marriage, the teenage version wanted to be a singer and was full of hopes and dreams.
Why he was so likable: Mostly because of Cage's delivery of, "You mean my ha-waaang?" when Peggy is rubbing ol' "Lucky Charlie" in the car. Unfortunately I could only find this video below of the scene. You have to fast forward to 4:24.  Again, Cage really nails the awkward teenager trying to be cool. Maybe because he was an awkward 22 year-old trying to be cool. The hair, the overbite, and the voice make for this one of my favorite Nicolas Cage characters.

Raising Arizona (The Redneck and The Crazy Person)-
Cage was really on a role in his early 20's. At 23, Cage played probably one of his most respected roles- H.I. McDunnough. McDunnough, afte rbeing released from jail, marries a barren cop and together they steal a baby.
Why he is so likable: For some reason, Cage just nailed this role. You truly believe that Cage came from a trailer out in the wastelands of Arizona and not from Hollywood royalty. Cage looks like he was born to don a mustache and wife beater. When he see Cage you can just smell him and you immediately want to go take a bath. A trait that Cage has always been good at? Making you, the viewer, feel uncomfortable.

Wild at Heart (The Elvis Impersonator)-
This was Cage's first and only David Lynch feature and I guess Lynch really wanted him for the role. Based off of the book, "Wild At Heart", by Barry Gifford, the movie follows the love story and road trip of Sailor Ripley and Lula Fortune (Laura Dern).
Why he is so likable: I'm not going to lie, Nicolas Cage is kind of sexy in this film. I can see why Laura Dern breathes heavily around him in every seen. The way he says, "Pee-nut", to his lady and his amazing karate dance moves can just make a girl week in the knees. "Did I ever tell ya that this here jacket represent a symbol of my individuality, and my belief in personal freedom?" Something about that line just seemed so personal. Cage does whatever the hell he wants.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call- New Orleans (The Crazy Person)-
Holy crappola! I saw this movie a few days ago and was completely blown away. Cage plays a cop in post-Katrina New Orleans who goes off of the deep end while trying to solve a murder. In the short span of the movie, Cage's character likes to indulge in gambling, drugs, hookers, and cutting off oxygen supply to old ladies.
Why he is so likable- This movie is the perfect example of not being able to tell if Cage is doing a horrible or brilliant acting job. He calls and old lady a c*nt and pulls out her oxygen mask! Then tells her that she's a nuance to her family and America, all the while twitching and limping and pop-eyed. The other thing about this movie is you can't tell if Cage looks like a mess because of his character or if he just looks like a mess. His doughy face is caked in make up and his strawy hair plugs are starting to join forces with those of John Travolta. If Travolta and Cage did Face Off again, we wouldn't be able to tell who is who anymore.