Thanks to the wonders of eDonkey, the Snook now knows what I mean when I refer to a Charlie Brown tree. You know, I choke up every time when Linus steps out into the spotlight and starts his speech.
Author: Kris
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Lawyer of the Rings
The Snook has been having a good giggle for the past ten minutes reading this legal analysis of Lord of the Rings. I made the mistake of asking who “Morgoth” was and got a lecture on falling asleep when people are trying to read The Silmarillion to me. Oops. (Link courtesy of John.)
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Cupcakes and Monkey
It was a creative kind of night. I finished yet another sock monkey (a Christmas gift for the daughter of co-worker Dean) and a big tray of cupcakes for our Christmas Eve office luncheon. They’re yellow cake mix – from scratch! – with flavored frosting and “hundreds and thousands” on top. (That’s what Aussies call “sprinkles”.) I know the blue isn’t really seasonal, but I ran out of red food colouring during the whole Halloween “bloody cupcake” debacle and I didn’t feel like running out for more. Based on the samples the Snook and I had tonight, they’re pretty darn tasty regardless. Please imagine that if I was next to you right now, I’d be handing one over this instant. Merry Christmas!
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Ebert’s Best Films of the Year
Ebert’s posted his list of the Best Films of the Year, which should put some folks’ panties in a twist. He left out Return of the King, for instance, and included Russell Crowe’s movie. Kill Bill is in there, as are both Scarlett Johansson films. He even included two Tupac documentaries. Say what you will about the guy… but he isn’t predictable.
[Note: I noticed that Ebert included Winged Migration, which was called Travelling Birds here. I wonder why it was changed? I think the international title was the better one.]
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Quake in California!
Whoa, earthquake in California! No word from my sister yet…
Update: The Snook managed to reach her on the phone. I guess her office is on the ground floor so she was fairly underwhelmed. Darn her! She’s ruining the perfectly good stereotype of the transplanted Midwesterner who freaks out at her first tremor.
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Enjoying that snow?
It’s frickin’ hot here, Mr. Bigglesworth. We finally plugged in the air conditioner two nights ago when the humidity became unbearable. I have a lovely plumber’s sunburn on my ass from gardening on Sunday. (The gap between my T-shirt and baggy cut-offs was the only place I forgot to protect.) Where’s that damn ozone layer when you need it?
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Russ is a Dad
Me: Hey, Russell Crowe had his baby.
Snook: Did it punch the nurse? -
Lamentably sane
Women who stay single stay sane. Just a link for those who are eager to get hitched… *cough* like my sister *cough*.
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Ibuprofen Junkie
Australian pharmacists are in an uproar over plans to sell ibuprofen over-the-counter. I remember the first time I tried to buy it in the UK and could only find packs of ten tablets. “Why can’t they sell bigger bottles?” I asked the Snook. “So people can’t kill themselves with it,” he replied. It’s much the same here in Oz. Meanwhile I’ve been jealously hoarding the 500-tablet bottle of Wal-Mart $7 off-brand ibuprofen I smuggled in last January. Seriously, if the stuff was going to kill me, I’d have kicked the bucket back in college.
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Scarlett Johansson can bite me.
“I definitely believe in plastic surgery,” she says. “I don’t want to be an old hag. There’s no fun in that.” And just like that, Scarlett Johansson has squandered all the goodwill I had towards her from Lost in Translation. That is the most ridiculous, fawning, simpering, bloody stupid interview I’ve ever read. I won’t insult your intelligence with her thoughts on menopause and why old men like “young, fertile, fruitful” women like her. (Memo to Scarlett: It has nothing to do with “eviction” and more to do with your ass.) She sounds like a self-important little girl playing dress-up and throwing out dime-store philosophies to justify her own exploitation. Grrr.
