Saturday, March 29, 2008

Saturday Night: The Tastiest Night Of The Week

My woman, Holly, she had a song that she sang for the treats that she usually eat...ed...er, back in the day. Unless you're into Sinatra, the joke is most likely lost, but there it is, the weekend that involves the 13-year anniversaries of the loss of Pookie and the adoption of The Woman gets to have the Tastiest Night Of The Week in between. Am I incoherent? Probably due to the Sudafed knock-offs I've been popping like PEZ. It's spring! My skin hurts.

Another side effect of the allergy drugs is that I can't remember when we saw a movie called The Touch, but it was good in a Crouching Tiger, Moulin Rouge! kind of way. The actual title is Tian mai chuan qi, but I couldn't pronounce that even if I could speak properly, so I'll stick to the English title, even though it makes no sense to me. The plot, if I recall, is that The Duke (Richard Roxburgh), is after something only a team of Chinese acrobats can actually reach--that's clever, you know, train acrobats to hide your set of golden statues. Unless, of course, you're in Lhasa, and EVERYONE can fly through the air, even Ben Chaplin, who we thought was Antonio Banderas for a few seconds. It was a fun movie, though, and the Internet Movie Database message boards really make me guilty that I enjoyed it.

Stardust, though...was frikkin' fantastic. I think it's the first movie I thought I should remember to show to any kids I should happen to have the occasion to show movies to, like...ever. As far as I'm concerned, it's up there with Krull and Ladyhawke, and it left me happier than any of those Lord of the Rings movies (which actually isn't hard to do, but I digress). All Neil Gaiman fans are probably wondering what rock I've been living under right about now, and I assure you it is a very cozy rock and I've no wish to come out from under it but you're all welcome to pop in and recommend things I ought to know about any time.

The only other things I managed to do last week was test the Mr. Clean mop handle with those slip-on things that er, clean the floor. As all good mops should. I dig cleaning products. At least with whatever mutation my throat is going though, I can be around cleaning products again. Now my floor is clean for when I fall on it on the odd days when I don't take an allergy pill some people use to make meth. (Don't make meth out of Sudafed, kids.)
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