The Scary Type of Boo

Last Saturday Nan found The Abandoned, which proves Spain is steadily creeping up on Japan for makers of the scariest frikkin' films imaginable. Disturbing scary, I mean. Really disturbing.

Then we watched Gone Baby Gone, which Nan and I had caught the end of a few days before, but then I taped for Mum to see because she totally loves Ben Affleck. Hee! I mean, we thought she'd like to see it because it's a really good movie. Rough story, and I don't entirely think I know what the hell I'd have done in that position, not that I'd ever be in that position because even when I was nine and went through my whole "I'm going to be a detective!" phase, I never left my house. The Internet was made for me. But that's beside the point. Gone Baby Gone is really really good.

Nan found Guyver 2: Dark Hero which is a sequel to the somewhat clever Mark Hamill movie The Guyver. Mark Hamill is not in the sequel, but the extras from every Power Rangers cut scene ever try to make up for it...not really. I'm sure there's a very good comic book geek reason for what goes on in this movie but the rubber suit smackdown at the end with the girl yelling, "Dad!" at one of the strange creatures cracked me up. How does she know. I wasn't paying much attention to the movie until the end so I don't know, maybe she was aware beforehand she was related to a huge mutant bear/roach. There were a load of seemingly random action scenes and I was in the middle of a story outline, so...I just don't know.

Just like I don't know what was up with the anime Nazi vampire musical that was on the next night after the werewolf movie (The Company Of Wolves)...I totally got some sort of street germ up my nose and spent the early part of the week reliving my entire childhood, sneezing, looking clueless, leaving a trail of tissues to find my way home...ah, autumn.

Something great happened this week, though. To look at it now, no one would think the stained gutter over the porch is such a great thing, but this gutter is now, for the first time in seven years, not sagging, not pouring water up into the porch roof, and no longer rotting the wood behind it. The wood had to be replaced too, but now it's done. All better. It involved the exchange of money for services, but to know that the porch is on its way to no longer resembling the entry to a crackhouse thanks to my stingy ways was my Christmas present this year. The guys who did it also cleaned the gutters, so that's taken care of for a while.

Other movies Nan found were Isle of the Dead and The Body Snatcher, which were both full of Boris Karloff goodness; and Secret of The Cave, which sort of fit into that theme of weird stuff going on and...it was one of those kid gets sent off to family and has such a good time that it will never ever wear off ever movies. I don't know if I believe that really happens, although I do tend to flash back to New Fairfield circa 1980 every time I hear anything from Glass Houses. I don't get these kids in movies, in my day we were content with using spoons to dig holes and didn't feel the need to go running off to well-lit Irish caves somewhere in torrential downpours on a whim. I don't think I did, anyway. Unless you substitute "Irish cave" for "doll my Mum didn't pack," and swap "me" with "Mum," possibly converting "running off" to "borrowing a car," and thoroughly confounding the whole thing with the lack of mysterious Irish townsfolk. I'm still coming off the cold medicine.

The Scary Type of Boo