Baley

You should have just gotten The Wolves in The Walls, and maybe American Gods.

Well, he's no longer impotent, if that's what you're asking.

Mind Game - The animated equivalent of a bloke who's desperately trying to be witty and insightful at an after-hours get-together, while everyone notices how much of a failure he is at interacting with normally developed human beings, yet keeps quiet as not to offend. La Vieille dame et les pigeons - Fantastic. Les Triplettes de Belleville - Almost better; Chomet's a master of his trade. I love how little need he has for language. The Hospital - Paddy Chayefsky + George C. Scott =

... And the German-Greek international final?

I love how he's like 5'5" and kicking Vinnie Jones' ass. On a sidenote, they're re-airing Malcolm & Eddie - my 9 year old self's favourite show - and I'm really wondering how it holds up. Nearly all I know about Hockey stems from Slap Shot, a bunch of NHL video games (blemished by puberty), half a world cup final on the telly (blemished by drowsiness), and my Hanson Brothers LPs (the reason I watched Slap Shot in the first place - whatever influences Nomeansno is infallible). I mean, I love Kurt Russell - but it sounds like the kind of film one would appreciate more if one were the owner of duffel bag chock full o' affection, dedication, and memorabilia - things I inadvertently lack. Of course - I'll keep my eyes open for it; you never do know. I got Mind Game today.

Ali G Indahouse - Funny, crude - the Eastside-Westside clash was great. My Neighbor Totoro - The scene where Totoro positions himself next to Satsuki and the sleeping Mei is perfect. Slap Shot - I'll admit it, I've never watched a Hockey game in its entirety; I'd rant about this film's greatness, but - then again - you're probably all secure and giddy in your knowledge of it, so whatever. Tokyo Godfathers - Half bland melodrama|half cliched comedy - arrayed in first rate animation. I'd suggest watching it with the subtitles turned off, but that's terribly unfunny. Bubble - Has there ever been a more realistic portrayal of boring failures and their boring lives? The script and direction are flawless. Bad Santa - I like how Willie was an ass man.

Even in the Chinese restaurant, where the Lord has lifted the ban on pork dishes for the obedient children of Israel, the eating of lobster Cantonese is considered by God (Whose mouthpiece on earth, in matters pertaining to food, is my Mom) to be totally out of the question. Why we can eat pig on Pell Street and not at home is because. . . frankly I still haven't got the whole thing figured out, but at the time I believe it has largely to do with the fact that the elderly man who owns the place, and whom amongst ourselves we call Shmendrick, isn't somebody whose opinion of us we have cause to worry about. Yes, the only people in the world whom it seems to me the Jews are not afraid of are the Chinese. Because, one, the way they speak English makes my father sound like Lord Chesterfield; two, the insides of their heads are just so much fried rice anyway; and three, to them we are not Jews but white - and maybe even Anglo-Saxon. Imagine! No wonder the waiters can't intimidate us. To them we're just some big-nosed variety of WASP! Boy, do we eat! Suddenly even the pig is no threat - though, to be sure, it comes to us so chopped and shredded, and is then set afloat on our plates in such oceans of soy sauce, as to bear no resemblance at all to a pork chop, or a hambone, or, most disgusting of all, a sausage (ucchh! ). .. But why then can't we eat a lobster, too, disguised as something else? Allow my mother a logical explanation. The syllogism, Doctor, as used by Sophie Portnoy. Ready? Why we can't eat lobster. Because it can kill you! Because I ate it once, and I nearly died! Yes, she too has committed her transgressions, and has been duly punished. In her wild youth (which all took place before I got to know her) she had allowed herself to be bamboozled (which is to say, flattered and shamed simultaneously) into eating lobster Newburg by a mischievous, attractive insurance agent who worked with my father for Boston Northeastern, a lush named (could it be better?) Doyle. - Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint. 1. Everything has an appointed season, and there is a time for every matter under the heaven. 2. A time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot that which is planted. 3. A time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break and a time to build. 4. A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time of wailing and a time of dancing. 5. A time to cast stones and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. 6. A time to seek and a time to lose; a time to keep and a time to cast away. 7. A time to rend and a time to sew; a time to be silent and a time to speak. 8. A time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace. 9. What profit has the one who works in that which he toils? - Kohelet.

I'd waited long enough. I ****ing hit him hard. The ball was there (I think). Take that you ****. And don't ever stand over me sneering about fake injuries. - Roy Keane.

Ernie, you had no idea how good it had been four decades later when you blew your brains into the orange juice although I grant you that was not your best work. - Charles Bukowski, The Last Generation.

Um, yeah. Lupe Fiasco - Muhammad Walks.

Uhm - don't make me google that. It's calcite... right right right?

I dunno - I never pegged him as a rock aficionado. What's the question, anyway? Which of the following rocks experiences a metamorphosis?

What d'you win?

I'll have to sport my ignorance here, this is the first Swamp Dogg video I've ever seen - where the black women at? Quick history lesson: Anyway, Earthly, materialistic, amoral, transient hip hop - crack rap? The best the Neptunes have been in years; the beats and flows mix almost perfectly. Definite musts: We Got It For Cheap, Momma I'm sorry, Ride Around Shining, Hello New World, Ain't Cha. Highlights: "I ain't comin' at cha quote, unquote "Famous Rapper" Who turn positive, try to tell ya how to live, But this information I must pass on to the homies If hustling is a must - be Sosa, not Tony; We can all shine, I want your wrist lit like mine, Neck and ears - I want it lit like mine, Foreign cars, stick shift, 6 gears - like mine, Anything that keep mama from crying, visiting You from behind that glass, While you away - sentencing, But the judge is saying "Life" like it ain't someone's life." "I'm sorry grandmamma for mistakes I have made, When I aired family business - how you put me in my place; Even my baby mamma, I can't look you in the face Cause I can't do enough, you're a symbol of God's grace, So I place you in a flower bed, porcelain shower head Throughout the house, and keep the youngins' mouths fed, So when I'm gone, I hope that it's said, I gave structure to the youth By the example I led." "The wall's removed and now I see: My leg was pulled, the joke's on me (ha..ha) So heartbreaking, like lovin' a whore, Might hurt ya once, but never no more, It's like tryin' to fly, but they clipping your wings, And that's exactly why the caged bird sings, Who can nickname it, the shame rings true Seems to me reparations are overdue;" "That accounts for all them days in the cold, Feels like kissin' cake mix, can't wait to lick the bowl, But it's a bigger picture, homes, trust I've done seen it From Frankfurt To Cologne, eyes low to Sweden, From Italy's Milan to the shores of Nepali, Now I consider Ferraris and Salvador Dalis, I'm no longer local, my thoughts are global, That's why I seem distant - son expand your vision;" "Fear him as soon as you hear him; Upon my arrival - the dope dealers cheer him Just like a revival, the verse tends to steer 'em Through a life in the fast lane, like German engineerium; No serum can cure all the pain I've endured, From crack to rap to back to sellin' it pure, For every record I potentially sell in the store, It's like Mecca to the dealer that's sellin' it raw, So many deceive ya, I'm on top with the ki's, move over Alicia, I force feed ya the metric scale, Rap's like child's play, my show and tell, Within each verse you see the truth's unveiled, They manufacture proof as they lie to themselves, Puppets on the string like a yo-yo, Bouncin' like a pogo - they prayin' I never go solo." Hope you music thread blokes had a good 25th.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Ahhha. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I shall be as quiet as something that is, um, particularly quiet - a mute?

If I were wearing pajamas, they'd be damp and moist and sort of tangy with ooze and tears. As I am not though, you'll merely have to picture me naked; and the sad truth is the season hasn't been particularly kind to my youthful bud, and I've grown pudgy and self-aware. Such is life. That said, I am awesome, and, as we all know, that which is awesome can never be overrated. In fact, I surpass awesome, I am triple awesome, quadruple even, I am what happens when Awesome mates with God. Shut yo mouth.

Is Oder the joke with the whole thing that the joke with you was addressed? (Yeah - German to English Babelfish appears to be down, so I went German->French->English. Whoopee.)

We need an emoticon for "me love you long time", badly; the heart just screams pervert.

It depends - are you ranting about my face or my steelo?

Soul Brother Number One, rest in peace.

I was aiming for farcically detached - blame the Christmas Blues.

You know, there's a chance in five I've actually played the game - at one time or another - and (yet) I retain no (crystal-)clear memory of it, except, perhaps, a feeling of nausea, deep "eww" and definite "eek". A warning: It's Romanian and, thus, wholly East-European: dodgy, risky, hazardous, bland, dross, insipid, et cetera, et cetera. Of course, the back-story, and especially "the how" (as in how did the Reds invade America? Did they slope beneath the waters of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic for months on end, sneaking, sliding, slinking? ) might (strongstrongstrong emphasis) make me reach for the BETA. Hopefully though - and I hereby pray to Jorian's God - this can be averted by a simple slap on the cheek... smack on the mouth, jab in the kisser - you get the idea.

HUH!? <{POST_SNAPBACK}> I think what Jags - Merry, um, I've no idea what you celebrate... Merry Whatnot, Jags, bottoms up - is trying to infer is that I'm not the biggest lover of Magyars this side of the, uh, what d'you blokes call the Danube?... Which isn't exactly, perfectly, effusively correct - I'd rather live in Budapest than Bucharest, et cetera. Still, I'd use anything - well, just about - to taunt [nudge nudge] a brother, nationality hardly exempt(ed). As for the game: the title (and, of course, the notion, the idea, the thought of Romanians traipsing around the universe) appears to be funnier than the plot itself. Such is comedy. Plus, their English gives me the cla, uh, the jitters. And, unlike those starry-eyed chaps over at Elemental Games, they're advertising their game as "SARCASTIC and FUNNY", which appears to be Nerd for hogwash draped in ugly, stilted, cliched language: hardly even fringing on the lowest of satire. Such is life. Hey, Jags - does this make you froth, foam, and fret?