Lots of Entertainment Weekly-caliber stuff to hit upon today.
Before I forget, though... I'll be heading out of town tomorrow afternoon. I'll be taking a flight with the 'rents to see my sister and her husband (and Stewie) in Ohio... which should be pretty great, as it's been awhile since I've seen everybody.
It sure seems that way, at least.
And yeah, spare me the "Ohio" jokes. It's going to be tough enough for me to use a TV with three channels, a rotary phone missing the number "8," and a dinosaur that doubles as the dishwasher all weekend.
I'll be back on Monday afternoon, but I can't promise how often I'll be able to update the site between now and then. So... feel free to check in, I guess... but with the knowledge that there might be tumbleweeds before there are new posts.
I'm sure you'll make it through.
So last night, we sold our patio furniture. A nice enough set, gone, for a whopping $50.
Did you ever get the feeling you'd been cheated?
Ah, well. It was that, or throwing it all to the curb. It's a sense of accomplishment, in a weird way.
Abby's futon/bed and basement couch will be gone by the weekend. So thank you, Craigslist.
The larger problem last night (apart from disassembling the umbrella from the base, which proved a bit tricky as the umbrella post had expanded a bit), was that the buyers came over so late that I missed Lost.
One of the only shows I consistently watch, and I botched it.
Luckily, it's available on iTunes (or it will be, anyway). Perhaps I'll download it and watch it on the flight tomorrow?
Better to watch the episode than one of Sawyer's Old Navy commercials, surely.
What I did see last night, however, were the season premieres of South Park and (God help me) Mind of Mencia.
Why did I watch Mind of Mencia? Because it was on, because I wasn't tired yet, because it was only 10:30, etc.
I will say that Carlos kept his streak alive (way to go!) with last night's episode. He continued to fail to make me laugh, or even crack a smile.
In fact, I actually watched last night's show as a dare (to myself?)... just begging him to say something that would make me chuckle or (possibly) chortle.
He's just a horrendous comedian... horrendous enough that, on the Leno scale (Leno being a -14), he rates a 2.
And that's being exceptionally, exceptionally generous.
The incredibly-publicized episode of South Park did what was expected, I guess.
For those of us who are still fans... we are really spoiled at this point by the quick turn-around time, huh?
As far as the show itself-- I expected something a bit nastier, and a bit less of a "happy" ending (Kyle's eulogy). Somehow, it didn't seem to break the new ground it threatened to, though Cartman's loudmouthed crying continues to make me laugh, every time.
But, yeah. Whatever. Chef's dead and gone... unless they make "Darth Chef" a recurring character, that is.
Rest in Peace, Chicken Little.
Looks like Arrested Development might still have a chance.
Speaking of nothing new, Snakes on a Plane hysteria has reached a fever pitch. I'm not going to bother linking to too much, here... because you're likely bored with this already.
But I will say that several of the sites I checked out this morning had their own unique updates on the movie, on the logo, on new reshoots that have been scheduled...
Now, I don't think it's going to make Titanic money, per se, but the studio has something weird and wonderful on its hands.
Let's hope they make it even more ridiculous as time goes on. You know-- Snakes on a Plane lunchboxes, emergency kits, venom holders, that sort of thing.
Sopranos fans should check out this morning's second entry over at Said the Gramophone.
It means little to me (the shame!), but it might mean everything to you.
I don't think it would be a good thing at all... but when does all this underground/indie/whatever music go mainstream enough that it gets its own label?
Like "grunge," or "punk"?
I mean, The O.C., I can understand... I guess. Hell, even the Peach Pit had some "current" acts on it. But Belle & Sebastian soundtracking America's pastime???
(and yes, I know about Stuart Murdoch's fascination with baseball, and "Piazza, New York Catcher," Jill, but they're fucking Scots, alright?)
2006 America demands that everything be categorized, and frankly... I'm getting sick of all these bands, scattered all over the place.
How does the title "new age" sound? That's not already taken, is it?