:: It has just been discovered that we are down to our last TWO gummy bears. I have released every creature at the cave from their regular duties until the gummy bear deficit can be rectified. (Sorry, but ewwww! Not a fan of Gummi anything.)
:: This was the moment I knew I was in for something good... that a jack o'lantern, the orange letters, and the ominous piano music alone could make me expectant and apprehensive.
Damn, this is a good flick.
:: It’s hard to vomit gracefully. For one, there’s the noise — the vocal wretching followed by that wet slap. There’s also the undignified sprint to the toilet or sink or unattended fedora. There’s the whole Jackson Pollock-y result of it all. There’s the fact that vomiting serves as both an announcement of both everything you’ve eaten in the recent past (“You should chew your Goldfish crackers more thoroughly!”) as well as how bad your insides smell.
:: Yesterday I spent a few hours finding shelf space for recent acquisitions, and for the seven-hundred-forty-third time in the last decade, I made a promise designed to be broken: I will not buy another book until I have read all that own. (Just reading that gives me a serious case of shivers.)
:: I don't care for the Monster's bald look and De Niro's performance makes me pity the Monster more than relate to him (and relating to the Monster is one of my favorite things to do in a good Frankenstein movie), but he does deliver a chilling interpretation of my favorite line from the novel: "I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other." (Michael May has been doing "31 Days of Frankenstein" this month; here he discusses Kenneth Branagh's Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, a movie which I liked more than its general critical reception. Now, I tend to not be terribly squeamish, but the scene where Dr. Frankenstein pays a midwife for a bucket of, well, used amniotic fluid made me go "Oooogg....")
:: Well, we do have to have standards. I mean, we can’t all be Snooki. (I don't even know who or what 'Snooki' is. A person? A band? A muppet? A secret paramilitary organization? Dunno.)
All for this week!