Fondue Unleashed, A Movie Review!: Django Unchained

If you're familiar with the past works of Quentin Tarantino, you probably are well aware of some of the elements that Django Unchained contains. Unique dialogue. Over-the-top violence. A soundtrack featuring songs which seem simultaneously both perfect and wildly out of place. Over-the-top violence. Samuel L. Jackson. Homages to film styles of the past. Over-the-top violence. All of these are present in Django, but it's still a unique film that is alternately brutal, wildly hilarious, and even touching.

I can't wait another paragraph to give a shout-out to Christoper Waltz, who plays one of the lead roles as a travelling dentist/bounty hunter. Waltz is responsible for one of the best, most intense film scenes in recent memory: the opening scene of Inglorious Basterds, in which he plays, "The Jew Hunter," a role which deservedly won him an Oscar. Well, he is is back to his scene-stealing ways in Django, in fact he completely owns the first half of the movie. Waltz delivers every line with a heaping tablespoon of charisma and a teaspoon of subtle humor. I hereby demand that he appear in all future Tarantino movies.

A lesser but nonetheless enthusiastic shout-out goes to Leonardo Dicaprio, who plays Calvin Candee, owner of the hysterically-named plantation Candee Land. I forgave him for Titanic quite a while ago, but at this point he's reached must-see status in my book. He does a nice job in a role that's a bit out of his element.

I can't believe I used "shout-out" even once, let alone twice. I'm sure Christopher and Leo will both be ecstatic to receive word of my shouting, but still...not a very creative choice of words by yours truly. My apologies, but I'm just going to roll with it.

Django starts out with a bang, literally and figuratively, but bogs down a bit about 3/4 of the way through. Still, despite it's nearly three-hour running time, it's a lot of fun throughout, and as one of my measures of how entertaining a movie is, even elicited a smattering of applause after it ended.

One of the things I admire about Tarantino is that he doesn't try to be something he's not. He does this genre, whatever you want to label it, extremely well and doesn't stray from it. Yet despite their stylistic similarities, each of his films is a unique experience.

The hardest part of writing a movie review for me is figuring out how to end it with something more saucy than "go see it," or "don't go see it," so my review has abruptly ended. Luckily, I have a fallback for my closing today, and I will just say Happy New Year to everyone who has stumbled upon this blog for whatever reason, and also to the most talented writer I know who just happens to write on this blog as well. Until next year...bye!

The Minister's Cat is a Nebulous Cat!

If you find yourselves bored at your family gathering this Christmas, eating fondue, looking at stuffed quails, or just staring at your shoes, might I suggest engaging your family in this whimsical game. 19th century garb optional, but encouraged.

Merry Christmas (eve).

Why I Am Looking Forward to Friday

No, I don't want the world to end, I still have Christmas shopping to do, not to mention a growing list of planned activities for 2013. However, I desperately want the end of the world jokes to end. None of them are funny at this point, and most never were to begin with. Had the Mayans and their crack team of scientists had the foresight to predict the steady stream of hackneyed jokes coming from water-cooler comedians everywhere, they might have just kept this all under wraps.

Thanks for listening to my rant. Lest you fancy me a curmudgeon, here's a loosely-related video as your reward.

An Accidental Discovery

I know a thing or two about the internet, let me tell you. However, I wasn't quite prepared for what I saw today on "the web," as the kids call it nowadays.

I have a job, a little something to supplement my income derived from Fondue, and while working at the aforementioned job today, I typed "42," attempting to enter the number onto a spreadsheet. Well, I must have been distracted, for I erroneously typed the number into a Google search instead. My mistake led to me to a fascinating discovery... the number 42 has its own Wikipedia page! Not only that, but the Wikipedia entry begins with "42 (forty-two) is the natural number immediately following 41 and directly preceding 43."  

Has anyone ever seen the number 42 and wondered what it was, gone to Google in a panic, and been relieved to find it was simply a number between 41 and 43? What are the odds someone would know about 41 and 43, but not 42? Does every number have a dedicated Wikipedia page? I'll continue my research and will pass it along to all of you.

I am so tired of reading about Fingerbling McLardNard

Much better.

Do you know this man?



1885-1933

 No?

I'm not surprised. I wouldn't either.

This fellow, Ringgold Wilmer Lardner (or more commonly known by the monosyllabic moniker, Ring) began his career as a sports columnist in Chicago, Boston and St. Louis. Eventually expanding his work to include humorous short stories and plays, he is responsible for arguably one of the funniest and most useful lines in American fiction.

Here's a bit of dialogue from his short story, The Young Immigrants. A young son says to his father:

'Are you lost, daddy?' I arsked tenderly. 'Shut up,' he explained.

A very handy explanation in my book, one to keep in the back pocket whenever inconvenient questions wander into a conversation.

More about Ring...

P.S. Look at that typewriter!!! *swoon*

Life Tip #19

Avoid sitting in the front row whenever possible.

Laurence Fishburne Debuts New Line of Greeting Cards*

Totally getting my Christmas cards from here this year.

*Not a true statement. No Shakespearean actors were harmed in the composition of this post.

All Work and No Play Makes Jacques a Dull Boy

ert-ruem! ert-ruem!

It's beginning to look a lot--

ATARI!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-- uh, I was going to say "...like Christmas."

Phrase of the Month: "Snow fighting"

From the website for the Seattle Department of Transportation:

Seattle is not Snoqualmie Pass! In Seattle, we may use the same trucks for paving streets one day and for winter weather response the next. An investment in equipment that is exclusively dedicated to snow fighting would not be a good value for the taxpayers year to year.

Steep topography, like the Queen Anne Counterbalance, First Hill and the intersection of 35th Avenue SW and Avalon, add to the complexity of snow fighting in Seattle.

We may not have the money or the resources to fight you, Cursèd Snow...

...I don't know what comes after that. I wanted to say something threatening, but I don't have the resources.

I guess the snow wins after all. Resistance is futile.

WARNING: The following image contains graphic scenes of snow fighting. May not be suitable for all ages.

OH MY GOD!! Not the horses, too! Poor, poor snow-fighting horses!

J.C.: Because I LOVE HIM!!

Cromwell...James Cromwell

The Artist: The Review (The Bulleted Remix)

In 6th-grade, I spent the majority of my free time engaged in the following activities:

• Pretending to be Huck Finn and “fishing” in a nearby canal  (this involved accidental cross-dressing)
• Rollerblading a very methodical, complicated and neurotic circuit around the exterior of our house (this involved repeatedly opening and latching at least two gates with every revolution, all whilst trying to avoid the cat that would dart out in front of me in what can only be described as very sentient and purposeful efforts to make me splatter myself on the concrete)
• Watching American Movie Classics, the best cable channel of all time (before it started having commercials)

I guess I was kind of a weird 11-year old.   But I loved my black-and-whites more than anything. My favorites were:

• Anything with Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire
• Anything with Katherine Hepburn
• Dear Ruth, and its sequel, Dear Wife
• And my #1 fave at the time: The Abbott and Costello comedy The Time of Their Lives

It’s taken a long time, but I’ve learned to appreciate and, even respect, color movies. I still think they’re kind of flashy and there’s far too much ankle showing in my opinion. I did not agree with the scandalous premise of Pleasantville. Life is meant to be spent sleeping in one’s own twin bed.

Does this have anything to do with The Artist? Not really, I just like to talk about myself.

Fine. I’ll talk about The Artist…

R.I.P Mike's Coffee Maker, 2007-2012

November 21, 2012, 6:10 A.M.

The glorious aroma of Peet's Coffee was in the air. As I poured the ground coffee in the coffee maker, it felt like one of those days which requires an extra scoop or two, so I prepared an extra strong pot. I walked away without giving it much more thought.

A few moments later, I realized something was amiss. Where was the smell of freshly brewed java? Where was the soft rumbling of the coffee maker that had consistently permeated the sweet silence of so many winter morns in the past?

I walked into the kitchen. I must have forgotten to turn on the coffee machine, or so I thought. I approached the coffee maker, confident the situation would be easily rectified. Confusion set in quickly however, as I saw the faint orange glow of the "on" button of the coffee machine, but this time with an empty coffee pot sitting above it. Was this really happening, or was this someone's idea of a sick, sick joke? Was I being punk'd? Was Ashton Kutcher going to pop up from behind the couch? I yelled "Ashton? ASHTON??"....nothing but silence.

I'd always wondered what my reaction would be in a time of crisis such as this. Panic? A muffled scream? A breakout of hives? Thankfully, I stayed calm. Being the handyman that I am, I turned it off, then on again. After that was determined to be unsuccessful, I turned it off again, then on again. Fearing death by electrocution, I decided not to attempt any further maintenance. The coffee maker was too far gone anyway, there would be no resuscitation.

What became of the ground coffee that was tragically never brewed you ask? It was left in the coffee maker, allowed to say its goodbyes for a full day before ultimately being united with a new machine. An awkward situation to be sure, but one I think the coffee will stand up and face with great courage and resolve.

As for me? I just stopped by Starbucks on my way to work.

The Artist: The Review

The font is exquisite.

Dateline: Hold Shelf at Southwest Branch of Seattle Public Library

It...

...has arrived.

Guest Contributor: R------s

One of our many loyal fans wanted to let us know that he's having a bad day. He writes, "Just finished a 15-minute conversation about obscene photos. There are some strange folks on the interwebs. Boredom is setting in."

Sorry, R------s, I'm afraid this isn't an advice blog. But if I were going to weigh in on the matter, I would recommend watching an episode of Picture Pages with Bill Cosby and eating a large hamburger topped with peanut butter.

Poem of the Day: Warning! Contains graphic nerdery.

Exchange of Letters
Wendy Cope

‘Man who is a serious novel would like to hear from a woman who is a poem’ (classified advertisement, New York Review of Books)

Dear Serious Novel,

I am a terse assured lyric with impeccable rhythmic flow, some apt and original metaphors, and a music that is all my own. Some people say I am beautiful.

My vital statistics are eighteen lines, divided into three-line stanzas, with an average of four words per line.

My first husband was a cheap romance; the second was Wisden’s Cricketers’ Almanac. Most of the men I meet nowadays are autobiographies, but a substantial minority are books about photography or trains.

I have always hoped for a relationship with an upmarket work of fiction. Please write and tell me more about yourself.

Yours intensely,
Song of the First Snowdrop

Dear Song of the First Snowdrop,

Many thanks for your letter. You sound like just the kind of poem I am hoping to find. I’ve always preferred short, lyrical women to the kind who go on for page after page.

I am an important 150,000 word comment on the dreams and dilemmas of twentieth-century Man. It took six years to attain my present weight and stature but all the twenty-seven publishers I have so far approached have failed to understand me. I have my share of sex and violence and a very good joke in chapter nine, but to no avail. I am sustained by the belief that I am ahead of my time.

Let’s meet as soon as possible. I am longing for you to read me from cover to cover and get to know my every word.

Yours impatiently,
Death of the Zeitgeist



Thanks So Much!

I don't like the phrase, "thanks so much," in fact I despise it.  It's not terribly offensive in itself, but it's the excessive usage that gets me. Is it really that vital to include the "so much?" C'mon now, I just e-mailed you a copy of your invoice, I didn't donate one of my kidneys. A simple, "thanks," will work just fine, so long as I haven't gone to great lengths to help you with something completely out of the ordinary.

While the phrase is intended to make one seem warm and appreciative, it actually comes off as somewhat cold and thoughtless. Here's what I picture when I hear this godforsaken phrase: a surly 50-something office clerk named Pam, wearing purple lipstick (because that's her favorite color!), impersonally uttering "thanks so much" without so much as looking at you, just because you brought her a facsimile from the front desk.

Am I the only one that feels this way? I am? Did I mention it's my birthday?

Jeez! Everybody's gotta make a big deal about their birthday!

What's that all about? It's only like the anniversary of the day you were born. It's not like it was the day the sandwich was invented or anything.

Anyway, to celebrate, here's the classic Jack Black Birthday song from Saturday Night Live...



Other Famous 11/13 Birthdays

I've never bothered to find out who shares my birthday. I'll cop to being pretty excited about these:

Saint Augustine of Hippo- My parents were very close to naming me this.

Whoopi Goldberg- I'm separated by only two degrees from the movie Ghost.

Metta Worldpeace- Similar temperaments.

Jimmy Kimmel- Yes!

Joe Mantegna- Yes!

Asashio Taro III, Japanese Sumo Wrestler- My birthday brother and body double.

Charles Simon Favart, French Dramatist- Some also refer to me as a French dramatist.

L.L. Bean- I got something in the mail from him today.  A birthday card I'm assuming.

Video Clip of The Day

Since it's my birthday today, It's required by law that I link a Mr. Show skit. Due to my advanced age of somewhere in the neighborhood of two score, I may be too lazy to post anything other than this today. 

Fashion is a Passion

Via 

Just reblogging stuff here because I am LAZY!!

(So this is what it looks like to be part of the problem. Meh.)

My Favorite Tweet From Election Night

Julius Sharpe ‏@juliussharpe

This is the latest Mitt Romney has ever been awake.

Apples Aren't Oranges, and Government Is Not A Business!

And now for a brief interlude from the normal wit and high-minded comedy of this site. I need to get this off my chest, and this is the last day to do it.

I received an e-mail a couple of weeks back in which I was informed with a painstaking lack of detail that our choice is crystal clear this election year:  Mitt Romney ran a profitable business, and therefore is far more qualified to run this country. Yes, this was an isolated chain e-mail, but I hear this sort of thinking quite often.

While I didn't respond to the email, it continued to irritate me for days. The government of the United States is not a business! This idea that someone fortunate enough to have made money in the private sector can somehow sprinkle his magic fairy dust on the other 300 million of us so that we’re all financially stable, and suddenly streamline the entire government is simpleton thinking at best.

Fire departments are not going to turn a profit. Neither are police departments, or Medicare, or FEMA, or countless other government programs. I can guarantee you though that when your house is on fire, the least of your concerns will be whether or not the fire department is negatively impacting the bottom line.

Even if Romney could run the government as a business, what sort of businessman would take increasing revenue off the table? Governing while refusing to raise taxes under any circumstances would be akin to a struggling business refusing to raise prices despite the fact its customers really have no other options. If you had a business which had an excess of widget makers, (hundreds more than your fiercest competitor) and these were your biggest drain on costs, would you consider cutting back a bit on widget makers, or would you concern yourself with cutting back on the Friday donuts budget? I’d liken this to Romney’s refusal to cut defense spending while finger-wagging at insignificant budgetary concerns such as PBS.

I understand that people have their own reasons for voting for either candidate. I beg of you though, please don’t use the argument that was made in the aforementioned e-mail. The function of government is basically to protect and serve its citizens. The function of a business is to turn a profit. I guess you could call that simpleton thinking as well, but at least it’s based in reality.

Happy election day!

Anxiety of the Day

"Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought."

- John Fitzgerald Kennedy

"I got this."

Hey, remember that time I looked at the election stats and Mittens had, like, 30 more electoral votes than you?

Not funny, Obama.

Not funny.

The Daily Kōan

Fun With Words With Friends

Blatantly stealing the idea of our head writer, I present a (very) short story using every word from a partially completed Words With Friends game. An autographed head shot of me (actual value $0.72) to anyone who can correctly find the 13 words from said game.

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

From the darkness that filled the night sky, the gay jaguar could only glean that the moons that surrounded her beautiful planet had been rezoned. Knowing this would affect the qi’s of not only the gay jaguar, but the entire animal kingdom of planet Mitty, she cried a seemingly endless stream of gay jaguar tears. She could feel in her ovary that her time to reproduce was near, and with this unfortunate rezoning of the moons, there was a very real chance that time would never come.

All of Mitty was understandably concerned at the recent developments. In the distance, she heard a steady stream of coarse language unbecoming of the jaguar.  Reading through her hand-me-down zine of secret battle techniques of the gay jaguar, a particular passage caught her tear-filled eye. “Thou shalt dole out fierce and unrelenting punishment with thy sword, to any jaguar, gay or straight, who cusses.” Wiping away her tears with a gentle swipe of her paw, she drew her sword.

To be continued, natch……

Presenting An Anonymous Cat...

...and his interpretative dance performance of what Sundays are like...

Via

Words of the Week

Well, this is just blatant hyperpromotion of Anu Garg and his nefarious team of lexicological geniuses responsible for the dee-lyt-full A.Word.A.Day email I receive every weekday in my inbox. Garg et al. are so cool in fact that they don't even need a great looking website. It's like they're stuck in 1997, but I don't care. Nobody seems to really.

Every week has a special theme and, since there's been a 98% political humidity index lately, last week's theme was:

Words that appear to have been coined after the 2012 US presidential candidates:

• obambulate
• bidentate
• mitty
• pauldron
• barrack

And now, storytime! 

 

Percival and the Primrose Path

 

Though he wasn't on the team, Percival had worn his pauldrons to the football game, with the Mitty fantasy that a series of bizarre and injurious accidents might incapacitate the four quarterbacks who were on the team. In this event, the coach would magically notice that Percival was a football prodigy and call upon him to throw the game-winning touchdown. In the third quarter, he began to obambulate over to the player's bench, when suddenly he was elbowed in the mouth by a barracking fan. Sadly, Percival had failed to wear his helmet, and the incident left him with a bidentate lisp for the rest of his life. Eventually, he changed hith official name to Perthival. Then, he moved to Authtralia.

A.Word.A.Day : The magic and music of words.

Quote of the Day: Deb

I Could Wrap You in Some Foam Or Something Billowy?

Happy Halloween!

Igby Goes Down: Agreed

Found Movie Review

I discovered this partial movie review while sorting through some papers, at work of all places. Its placement in the notebook in which it is recorded reveals that I began writing it approximately 3 years ago. I know this because the next page contains a list, written by a friend who visited from Michigan - yep, you guessed it - 3 years ago. This list consists of meals he was willing to prepare in exchange for the time he crashed on my couch. There are check marks next to: Mexican Feast, Baked Chicken, and Pizza. Why this list found its way into a notebook at work, I have no idea. But I'm almost certain that it is quite a boring story. I do remember regretting that we opted for Baked Chicken instead of Mexican Feast though. End of digression. On to the review...

Review of Igby Goes Down

by Three-Years-Ago Paige

Thought-provoking only so much as to cause one to wonder, for several minutes after it ends, why it was made.

And yet, "Two thumbs up!" rave Ebert and Roeper on the DVD jacket. "One of the best films this year!" agrees CNN. Such exclamatory praise! But altogether questionable.

The most redeeming, and I use the term loosely, quality of this film appears (in all places!) in Jeff Goldblum's performance. At once avuncular and prurient, his character, D.H., is downright creepy.

Well, that's it. That's all I wrote. There's sort of a wavy line that slants from the last period down to the bottom right of the page, leading me to believe that it was at that precise moment that I passed out from boredom, overindulgence of Prosecco, or both. Probably both.

Unfortunately, after reading this review of mine, I'm strangely curious and intrigued. I don't remember the movie that well or why I despised it so much. And now I feel like watching the movie again. WHICH MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL!!!!! NO SENSE AT ALL!!!

Ripped From the Headlines

Just a quick glance at Yahoo! today reveals the following headlines:

Linda Hogan 'devastated' but not 'shocked' over Hulk sex tape

Fondue analysis: I'm assuming this is Hulk Hogan and not the green guy. Either way, I hope none of you decide to look ANY further into this.

Tom Cruise prowler arrested, tased, then revealed to be drunk

Fondue analysis: Take the word "prowler" out of the headline, and you've got a story I may read. 

Power outages black out popular websites. 

Fondue analysis: The horror! Not only is my card three feet underwater, but I can't get on Huffington Post!

Photos: Tokyo's claustrophobic capsule hotel

Fondue analysis: I've always wanted to go to Tokyo, preferably on the cheap, but this is ridiculous. These remind me of the pods that kept Charlton Heston and his crew alive until 3978 in Planet of the Apes. Well, (spoiler alert) not the whole crew.... ahhhhhhh!

Sing-A-Long: The Best French Song of All Time

...well, one of the best French songs of all time.

[...]

...actually, it's just kind of an okay French song.

[...]

[...]

...Here's a song in French!

French Song

Do you want to sing along to the chorus? I bet you do!!

Aux Champs-Élysées
Aux Champs-Élysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie
À midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez
Aux Champs-Élysées

Translation:
We're better than you
Because we're French.
Dah dah dah dah dah dah
We eat frog legs for brayk-fahst
Dah dah dah dah dah dah
Dah dah

An Important Question This Election Season

Have you ever asked yourself, "Just how white is Mitt Romney?" Well, snow looks like the darkest shade of gray in comparison.

Quote of the Day: H.L. Mencken

Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.

Probably not on this bench though. This bench is getting NO PLAY.

Hey, wait a sec!

Just Because

Contest...Photo Caption Contest





56.3% of concerned NPR citizens think I'm the best Bond of all time. What do you say to that, Danny Boy?

I'd say NPR listeners are a bunch of pansies. Except for the 27.81% of them who think I'm Bondier than you, Old Man.

  

Eh, what's that, Sonny?! You think can out-Bond me, you hing-oot, bawfaced tossbag?! I challenge you to a smolder-off!   

     

Silly minger! My left eye has more smolder than that ciggy hanging out of your daft mouth!



Oh, yeah? Look at this!!!!
*smolder*

 

Meh.
*smolder*

Bah! *smolder*



Nyah nyah. *smoldery smolderoo*



Ha! *smolder with gun* Beat that, you ginky bamstick!



That's not a gun. This is a *smolder* gun.
Game.
Set.
Match.

Quote of the Day: Celeste Holm

The other day, as I was driving home, I was listening to a 1990 interview with the late Celeste Holm. (Who's Celeste Holm?! She was like the female Richard Jenkins of the 50s: in everything, but nobody knows her name.) Anyway, Ms. Holm passed away on July 15, 2012, a fact which presumably contributed to the re-airing of the interview at the time I started writing this blurb (um, about 2 months ago).

I had pulled up to the curb to park my car when Terry Gross asked Celeste, "What was it like working with Frank Sinatra?" And just as I was turning the key to pull it from the ignition, Celeste replied, "Well, I've always enjoyed working with children..."

Oh.

Snap!

Detected!

(Update) Dateline: Hold Shelf at Southwest Branch of Seattle Public Library

The Artist: Position 650 on 149 copies - Hold placed April 4, 2012
The Little Mermaid (don't judge me): Position 156 on 6 copies - Hold placed July 16, 2012

It's been neck and neck with these two. I'm planning on a photo finish. Depending on which DVD appears first, I will pursue one of two lifelong dreams:

• Option A: Become mermaid
• Option B: Exchange speech for placards and make sure iPhone is constantly spewing out melodramatic classical music

My destiny awaits...

Speaking of black-and-white French things, I know someone who LOVES cats...

Brilliant Idea: #88

Crosswords with Friends

No, I'm not talking about being spittingly exasperated whilst playing Words with Friends. Someone already invented that. (I just perfected it.)

Instead, Crosswords with Friends would be programmed with an algorithm that would determine the best play that you can make with the letters in your arsenal. Then, it would give you a clue to what that word would be. The levels of difficulty would be: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. And Thursday would be all enigmatic and annoying.

The truth is, someone probably already thought about this, but I'm too square to know it. If that's the case, I don't need to know. I'd prefer to just wallow in the muck and mire of self-aggrandizement.

Android Girlfriend (Not My Brilliant Idea)
[Shout-Out to xkcd]

Dateline: Hold Shelf at Southwest Branch of Seattle Public Library

I know ever since I mentioned on July 29th that I had placed a hold on The Artist, that everyone was waiting, with bated breath, to learn when I would finally discover that it was "ready for pickup."

Well, the bad news is that it is not yet "ready for pickup."

The good news is that I am currently in Position 704 on 149 copies. Records indicate that I placed the hold on April 4, 2012. Things are progressing quite swimmingly, I should say.

That is all.

I Would Like You to Watch 21 Jump Street Tonight

21 Jump Street was seven times funnier than I anticipated. It went a bit overboard when it devolved into an action movie for the last 20 minutes, but Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum keep the guffaws flowing up to that point. Also, there is a brief, but wonderful General Zod reference for Superman II nerds such as myself.

While I highly recommend the movie, I must be honest and say the primary reason for mentioning it was so I could post this picture.

Day 6 of the Bloggers Strike

But some scabs remain...

Look!

It's NOT Ryan Gosling!

The Postless Post

Co-Pilot's Log.
Stardate: Omega Cinque Tinfoil

Day 3 of the Post Drought.

I'm not sure where we're going to get our next post. It's a dog-eat-post world we live in. One minute you think you have a post, the next minute you discover it's just an email to your college roommate to whom you haven't spoken in a few dozen years, not since he laundered his underpants in the dishwasher. And you're thinking to yourself, "But I had something witty to write." But you didn't. Not really. You haven't watched a movie since The War Horse Debacle. You've taken to reading...books.

Times is hard is all.

War Horse: I Lost the Battle

As I was saying several posts ago about putting Oscar-nominated movies on hold at the library...

After five months of languishing in the queue, I found this one on the shelf waiting for me the other day. I wasn't really that interested in this movie to begin with, but I thought, why not, right?

I'll tell you why not.

Twenty minutes into this movie, I had to take pity on myself and stop it. Just stop it.

Steve, what the f%$k, babe!

This movie was so melodramatic, I felt like I was watching the parody skit that Saturday Night Live must have inevitably made based on this film. I mean, my words cannot possibly adequately describe the hammy saccharinity of War Horse. So I won't even try.

However, I will say that the horse is a terrible actor. Mr. Ed does a better job of emoting. Hell, the cat that died and was turned into a helicopter by his owner demonstrates more emotion as it propellers its way around the yard. And that cat is dead!

Brilliant Idea: #49

The next time you go on vacation, don't take anything with you. Take nothing.

If, after a few days, you need a new pair of underpants, go buy some. Need a toothbrush after a week? Go buy it. Need some prescription medication?

[...okay, just make sure that you don't need prescription medication.]

Think about it! Consider the advantages. Going through Security at the airport is practically painless. And everything you bring back will be a souvenir, so you won't have to waste money on souvenirs. You can just pull out your brand new pair of underpants and go, "Look, my friends! These are not just underpants, they are Albanian underpants." You can give the toothbrush to your niece and tell her to cherish it always because you had to elbow an old Albanian woman in the teeth to get the last one on the shelf. (See, the Albanian woman didn't need the toothbrush after that happened, did she?)

Ah. Memories...

Mars, Martians, and Curiosity

I’m hopeful that the Curiosity Rover’s landing on Mars last night will help to usher in an era where Martians are once again the frequent  and preferred subjects of books and movies. I feel like zombies and vampires have worn out their welcome. I think deep down we all realize the vampire fad ended the second Kristen Stewart cheated on Robert Pattinson (sniffles). Zombies got annoying once the hipsters got their grimy mitts on them and started writing books like this. I liken the zombie fascination to the pirate craze of the early 2000s, it was funny for a day or two but subsequently just irritating.

I realize that if Curiosity stumbles upon life during this journey, it will look more like a lawn weed than a giant-headed, ray-gun-toting monster, but I’m ready for the Martian revival!

Nutrition: A Simple Guide to Maintaining a Healthy Diet

Okay, here's all you need to know:

There are four food groups. There always have been and always will be. They are:

• Peanut Butter
• Ice Cream
• Chocolate
• Cheese*

There are four sub-food groups. They are not necessarily less nutritious than the first four, and in some cases are more situationally appropriate. But they are less inherent to the basic necessities of survival. These sub-groups are:

• Salami
• Prosciutto
• Pepperoni
• Alcohol

I find that it's best to keep food pairings within the context of the larger taxonomy, i.e., don't mix sub-group foods with items from the main food group. *Note that this rule does not apply to cheese, which can be paired with anything, including less important comestibles, like vegetables and fruits, and also bread (which is understood to be the Grand Poobah of all foods and is like water in that if you go 6 hours without bread, you will die). Otherwise, novices to the PICC system should be warned that combining, oh let's say, alcohol, with ice cream or chocolate may cause not only expansion of the waistline, but also mysterious markings on the kitchen, office, and dining room walls that not even an organic, enzymatic, lye-based solvent will remove.

So, that's it. That's the PICC diet. Easy! And guilt-free!

(This post is dedicated to my sister and quasi-brother-in-law. They know why.)

Brilliant Idea: #119

Techno-grunge music.

Better yet, disco grunge.

♫
     Black hole sun,
     Won't you come?
     Won't you come--

      ---TO FUNKYTOWWWWNNN!
♬

Oh, crumbs. I guess someone already thought of it.

Lazy Posting

Here's an image of a timely and amusing flowchart:

- So, you're just going to post an image of a flowchart?
- Yep.
- That's just lazy.
- Yep.
- ...
- What? I'm genetically predisposed to sit around a lot and do nothing, so? I'm a natural spectator. You have to have spectators or it doesn't work. They're integral to the natural balance of things. And yes, spectators don't do anything. They're lazy. If you think about it, I'm really kind of a hero.

Ted- Weeks Later, I'm Still Laughing

Ted is funny. Really funny. If you enjoy Seth Macfarlane’s brand of humor, pot-smoking teddy bears, or laughter, you’ll like it. In fact, if you see it and don’t laugh uproariously on multiple occasions, I’m afraid we can’t be best friends.

My grandmother, 85, actually saw it with my mom and my mom’s friend. Grandma’s review: “Oh, I really enjoyed it.”