A ragingly hormonal teen and her accidental “anal fissure” take centerstage in “Wetlands,” a high-energy, unapologetically vulgar, take-me-or-leave-me screen version of Anglo-German author Charlotte Roche’s controversial worldwide bestseller (a sort of YA “Fifty Shades of Grey”). Leaving no bodily orifice — or fluid — unexplored, director David Wnendt and breakout star Carla Juri give full measure to the outre self-exploration of Roche’s literary alter ego, Helen Memel, while capturing the underlying sweetness that helped endear the character to millions of readers. Result is a spiky, smartly packaged commercial enterprise as sure to score with mainstream audiences as it is to irk the cognoscenti. Arriving on a tide of heavy advance publicity in German-speaking Europe (where it opens Aug. 22), the pic seems assured of a stellar local bow, but could see better-than-usual offshore sales for a non-English-language commercial release.
The other week, I was driving to my 2 nd job at Malarky’s Sports Grill. Wednesday to be exact. I noticed a man standing at a bus sign waiting for a bus. I recognized the man right away. It was Kenny, The Dancing Wild Man of Factoria. It’d been a minute since I’ve seen him on the streets of Issaquah, I was growing concerned that something awful happened to him. I was thankful to find him once again, and within the same area I “met” him the first time… hilarious story. I remember distinctively. It was my first summer I spent in Issaquah. The sun was out, so relatively warm. I was bombing around in the Sapphire Sled [an arctic blue, 2004 Acura RSX Type S] with the windows down, the tunes up. I was stopped at the traffic light on the corner of Front Street and NW Gilman Blvd; the busiest intersection. From out-the-cuts, I heard someone screaming! I pull off my shades immediately. I whip my head around trying to seek out the source of the noise. I turn down the radio as I desper
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