This weekend is the Oscars, an awards ceremony I always expect to enjoy more than I actually do. Still, I continue to watch them every year. I used to manage to see most of the contenders before the show, but that’s gotten harder since I became a father (and most of my viewing consists ofRead more about Zombie Post: Return of the Act[…]
So I’ve become relatively obsessed with HBO’s “True Detective”. I got on the bandwagon a little bit late, but after spending the past week catching up on the season, I won’t be hopping off of it anytime soon.
The term “link envy” implies that I wish I had created the site to which I’m linking, and while I guess that’s kind of true for this one, I’m mostly just glad someone else did. Because it’s hilarious.
Even if there are only a few entries, every one is gold. Especially this one.
Like tons of little kids this winter, my son loves Frozen.
Until recently, he’d never been to a movie theater. But he’s shown the attention to span to watch full movies at home (the usual Pixar suspects, and The Polar Express, which he’s still talking about two months after Christmas, because trains + Christmas = little boy heroin), and since we’d been hearing such great things about it, we decided to take him to see the new Disney flick. (The Wolf of Wall Street was sold out.)
A month later, Frozen has seized favorite-movie status Tom Hanks’ dead-eyed motion-capture debacle, and “Let It Go” has joined “(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party!)” as one of Detective Munch’s favorite songs (also on the list: “Royals” and “No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn”).
I’ll probably be watching this movie for years to come. I’d better get something off my chest first.
There are a lot of children’s stories about toys that yearn to become real. There’s the classic Disney flick Pinocchio, the melancholy children’s book “The Velveteen Rabbit” and the heartwarming and erotic Mannequin, starring silver-screen legend Andrew McCarthy.
These stories are all aimed at children, though some seem more appropriate for really, really dumb children (Mannequin). And there are plenty more in this vein. Oddly, there aren’t many toy-based stories for adults (unless you count porn).
But the lack of such stories for grown-ups makes sense. As a parent, it’s not often that I wish one of my son’s toys would become real, though it would be fun to pummel the life out of a flesh-and-blood Elmo.
On the other hand, I do occasionally wish my son would become a toy. At least there’d be less shit to clean up.