In the past four days I have watched the following in an attempt to distract myself from dementing grief over the loss of my most super girl, Miss Kitty:
Jackass: The Movie (1 and 2): Pretty funny, in the wow, these guys are insane--I really couldn't vomit this much way. In the best skit, one of the Jackasses inserts a Matchbox car up his butt then presents at the office of an elderly Latino doctor complaining of difficulty walking. The expressions of the dour assistant as she examines his X-ray and the ensuing conversation the doc has with a colleague (in Spanish) are truly priceless.
Wedding Crashers: Generally tedious and not so funny except for Isla Fisher, playing the koo koo love interest/stalker of Vince Vaughn
Team America: World Police: Pretty good satire of both the USA's chest thumping bull-in-the-global-china-shop ways and of the action movie genre. Best theme song: America, Fuck Yeah! Great sex scene, but the uncut version was better. Check out This Film is Not Yet Rated, to see the full version.
Part of Borat: Still good, but better in an audience of people howling than in my cat-deficient livingroom.
Fuck, A Documentary: Too long, but interesting as it features exactly who you think it would (George Carlin, clips of Lenny Bruce, various linguists and First Amendment scholars) but also folks from the other side bemoaning the degradation of language into coarseness and vulgarity (Pat Boone, who offers his last name as an equally satisfying alternative, Miss Mannners and a bunch of people from organizations whose very names make my ears turn off: Morality in Media for example.)
Video from the Vanity Fair photo shoot, featuring polar bear cub Knut being followed around by Annie Leibovitz. Not that interesting, but it sure is cute.
Movies sitting on my coffee table from Netflix that I may just need to return without watching because I just can't stand anything else sad or difficult:
Babel: Anything by Alejandro González Iñárritu, director of Amores Perros and 21 Grams, is out.
Sherrybaby: Woman sprung from prison tries to rebuild her life. Nope, nope, nope.
I'm noticing an abundance of the colon in this post. It seems to be working for me to write this way at the moment.
Disconsolate Wailing: Am I Waking the Neighbors?
Red, Chapped Nose: Decimation of the Virgin Forest
Necessary Objects: Drooled-Upon, Vet-Shaped Catnip Toy
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3 comments:
I am so so so sorry, Mellie. I wailed for much of February and March after Mr. F died. I just wish I had been smart enough to rent Jackass.
I am just so so very sorry. Huge hugs and love from out East.
oh mel g....i'm sorry. it sucks. i hate to say it but you need to go find a new kitty to love. it helped me. beth
Thanks, Jenn and Beth. You both know how much it sucks.
I tried to look at the SPCA website for a pair of girl kitties (I now understand the thinking behind "an heir and a spare"), but it just made me cry because none of them were my girl. If only a homeless cat would just show up meowing on my doorstep, it would be a lot easier. But since I live in a locked apartment building, and cats lack both opposable thumbs and the proper key I feel that is unlikely to happen. More time, I think.
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