how I know blogging's getting to me
How else? I dreamt about it. Last night I dreamt that I went to dooce's house to walk Chuck. When I returned him to the house, dooce herself walked in with Leta, and I said, "Hi Dooce. I just finished walking Chuck for you." She thanked me, never asked me how I got into her house or why I was there, and asked me if I could watch Leta for ten minutes. Of course I said sure, but then when I was leaving, I didn't have enough money to rent a car to get me from Utah back to Newton, MA, where I was apparently living. I was exactly $160 short. The rental car man would give me a deal if I went over to that movie theater and stole the poster for We Were Soldiers. I know where this comes from. The other day Julie and I were talking about Mel Gibson's issues with violence. I remembered that I could only watch 10 minutes of WWS before shutting it off.
But why am I walking other people's dogs and watching other people's children? For ten minutes in a state hundreds of miles away, no less?
Yeah. And I say Mel Gibson's got issues.
posted by aerobil @ 9:09 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
I have watched all of WWS, a feat for which I think I should get some sort of endurance award. There are 500 things I could say about that movie, none of them complimentary. For the moment, suffice to say that Madeline Stowe's long, limpid tresses and botoxed lips in WWS are one of the funniest and saddest testaments I have seen to the problems and insecurities of aging actresses.
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