My new favorite site
It's a good thing I still have a little of my Christmas money left...It should buy me a fair few $4.95 kung fu film DVD's #grins#
Going through softcore mutation...
...Although I don't really have much to talk about. I did have a bizarre dream last night; I suppose that's something. I was walking through a large rambling mall with Alton Brown, and I was carrying a large tan tabby cat that was apparently his. My mission was to carry it home for him so it didn't escape into the mall and get lost. Nope, not relevant to anything; I just thought it was weird enough to get a mention.
"Adding to BLADE'S 'swordid' affair, Marvel and Wesley Snipes threatened lawsuits against the non-threatening actor Jeff Falcon several years ago when Falcon's film THE BLADE had to change the title to SIX-STRING SAMURAI."
(Spam recieved by Austin; type not specified)
In their neverending quest to have their missives delivered into your inbox rather than your bulk folder, spammers have hit upon the idea of upping the ratio of non blocker-recognized words by putting random chunks of text in at the bottom of their emails. Some of these are completely random, some look to be passages from books run twice through Babelfish, and some approach actual lucidity. The ones I like best are the ones that sound nearly like blank verse; as though the spammer was both trying to sell a product and work their way through an emotional crisis with a dictionary and a rudimentary grasp of language. I've played fast and loose with the return key, and the occasional capitalization, but other than that these will be printed as I recieved them.
...Although it is only Tuesday, I suppose.
So, after one of the most frustrating rides of recent memory, I am facing the realization that it is entirely likely that Cameron will never be able to do more than dressage and mild jumping, and that at home indoors. I have been saying for a long time now that if I could just get him used to going outside, that he would be as steady as he is in the ring, and I really did believe that was so. But today's ride was a mirror image of nearly all the other times I've attempted to ride him in the field, i.e. he slowly but steadily comes unglued until I feel that remaining on his back is a stupid decision and I get off, which doesn't change his reaction any at all. This is barely out of sight of the barn, mind you; it's not as though I get him several miles into the back country and he realizes he's alone and away from home. This has happened every single time I've taken him up there, save one, and instead of a hopeful sign I'm starting to treat that as a fluke, especially since it was probably two years ago. I realized today that trying to school him cross-country like this would be a complete disaster, and possibly dangerous, given his energetic fear reactions- he has quite literally done caprioles through my tactful and otherwise attempts to slow him down/quiet him. That's usually the point when I get off and walk him home, but he's just as reactive when I'm off him as when I'm on, and apparently just as inclined to ignore me in favor of his fear or outright disobey when I ask for him to walk calmly beside me.
Dunno why. Probably just because I've always liked it...
Okay, so why can't our country have this kind of sensible attitude towards sex education? Why is it that everyone here has to be uptight and weird instead of open and honest?
Got this from Suzanne's blog. I don't usually bother with these, but I like to do one once in a while for solidarity, or something.
Inspired by Dr. Freex, I am compiling a list of things that make me happy, or at least, happier. This should by no means be considered complete, and will be updated at intervals.
Was anyone anywhere actually scared by The Leprechaun? Seriously? I mean, I'm glad Warwick Davis got a paycheck and all (several, given that there were four or five sequels) because he's very talented, and yeah it's nice to see someone trying for a slasher flick outside the usual mold, but come on, who besides Garth Algar is terrified to watch these? Horror and humor are both hard to get right, and nearly impossible to reconcile in the same script; some rare movies manage it (off the top of my head, Dog Soldiers, American Werewolf In London, Shaun of the Dead, and Evil Dead 2) but they're pretty special. Most follow Sturgeon's Law and fail to be either scary or funny, instead being irritating, non-scary, or even tedious. This film, while at least different from the normal late-night slasher fare, is definitely not scary and its humor relies mainly on the "let's throw a small guy around!" portion of slapstick. Although I have to admit that the line, "Fuck you, Lucky Charms!" is fairly amusing #grins#
Typing the last post reminded me of a favorite Willow Hill memory (well, one of tons and tons of favorite memories from there, anyway) My day off was Monday, so I worked weekends as a matter of course. We had a radio in every barn, because music does make work go easier. During the week I had the local classic rock station, Champ 101.3, and I widened my music experience considerably listening to it for eight or nine hours a day, along with being entertained by their morning show, which started the same time I started work in the morning, i.e. six am. But on Sunday mornings, the other semi-local rock station would play the House of Blues radio show. It started at eleven, by which time I would be out grooming horses in Hillside. The barn was always quieter on Sunday mornings; hardly any boarders would be there so I usually had the place to myself. Cool weather, warm weather, snow, sunshine, hail, rain; it didn't matter. It was just me and the horses, working and listening to Elwood educate his listeners and to some amazing men and women singing the blues.
Watching Night Court reruns (and laughing my ass off; I'd forgotten how funny they could be) and I am reminded that my earliest crush was probably Harry Anderson as Judge Stone. It was either him or Dan Ackroyd as Ray Stantz; I can't really remember anymore. If that doesn't belong under the Geek Cred title bar I don't know what does #grins#
Oh man...The Calamari Wrestler may very well be the best movie ever.
Got Blade on as background, and although I've seen it a half a dozen times or so, I never manage to warm towards it. Yeah, I know, Wesley Snipes is good in everything, and there was at least a reasonable about of care paid to the production. I'm not arguing that. I can watch it, but I just can't find it in my heart to like it, no matter how it's argued.* Maybe it's because my friend Anthony wrote a far cooler vampire hunter story (with a somewhat similar theme) several years before this movie was even made. Maybe it's because I can't buy Club Kiddie vampires as actual villains, and I find them annoying rather than terrifying. Maybe it's because I couldn't fathom a council of ancient vampires who shuffle about and mumble about things and are herded to their doom like sheep without any sign of resistance. Maybe it's because the millenia-old temple looked as though it ought to have a food court and a Bon-Ton on the second floor.
Labels: movie review
I know I must be doing something right when my Amazon recomendations list includes Kraftwerk and Count Duckula.
A youngish Jonathan Frakes on the Dukes of Hazzard-* as Boss Hogg's nephew, no less.
I sent Austin my copy of the first season of the Upright Citizens' Brigade along with his Christmas package. He'd seen it with me on his last visit, but I wanted to make sure that John and Jeff got a chance to see the sheer surreal joy that is the UCB. So far Jeff has been introduced to the Hong Kong Danger Duo, Captain Lunatic, and Steve Youngblood. John should be visiting Austin this weekend, so his indoctrination can commence.
It was funny on Sunday to ride and have Cameron be just as soft and responsive as I could have wished after a week off. As I commented when we were done, apparently the aliens took the pod creature away and gave me my horse back #grins# I suppose I forget sometimes how far he's come.
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your
So, I had dilligently practiced my test (dressage, Training 4) for a couple of weeks, and aside from a few hiccups on particularly cold nights, we were doing well. We were relaxed and on rhythm, and were moving forward without running away. The little arena felt small, especially on the loops, but we had been coping nicely. I had a nice ride Saturday night, we did a calm, collected test, and I cooled him out, untacked, and did my braiding (in the 45 minutes I had before barn curfew; they were worst braids I've ever done, and that's saying something #grins#) before giving him some treats and heading home to clean my tack.
So, possibly the last thing I expected at one in the morning was to pick up a travel mug off the floor and find a live shrew in it. I'm not sure which of us was the more startled, really.
So, I'm actually typing this from the new home of Grey's company, and I'm here at 7:30 am because I've actually been here since about nine last night helping (in my own limited way) with the server migration. I'm mostly here to fetch and carry, although I am apparently competant enough to run cable testers and toners and occasionally ping things, so I at least feel somewhat useful.