Checking in here to wish a happy Independence Day to my compatriots, a happy Wednesday to all.
Having gotten married and having moved all our worldly possessions to one flammable location, and placed them under the protection of a pair of fire-breathing slavering beasts and a gang of meth-addled bikers, Diana and I flew off to Italy for a few weeks of workingvacationmoon.
. . . → Read More: Roming Again
THE SIXTEEN STAGES OF MOVING
1. I want to move.
2. I hate to move.
3. I ought to move.
4. I hate to move.
5. I have to move.
6. Find a place to move to.
7. I will pack up my things. Tomorrow, sometime. Or the day after.
8. Oh. I move . . . → Read More: Moved to be moody, and moody to be moved
As fate and my innamorata would have it, I watched (within the space of a few days) two movies based on old Ira Levin novels: The Stepford Wives and Rosemary’s Baby.
It seems crazy to give a spoiler alert about movies a couple generations old, so I’ll cut to the chase. Both stories end with the . . . → Read More: Make Womb! Make Womb!
On Friday evening I set out with an intrepid band to see The Maltese Falcon on the big screen at the Valentine theater in the big town of Toledo. Through a set of hilarious circumstances we ended up eating dinner at the Burger Bar, where prettty good burgers were eaten but no Maltese falcons were . . . → Read More: Bath of the Titans
“All citizens take notice that Carnival is decreed for tonight. Turn back the clock. There will be music, dancing, happiness at the Carnival. By order.”