You are currently browsing the archive for December 2003.
December 15th, 2003
Boy, do I hate shopping.
First, it’s a given since I’m a guy. Guys traditionally, don’t like shopping. We’re the gender who knows exactly what we want when we enter the store. Seriously, I have timed myself. From the point I turn off my car’s engine and get inside and buy items and find myself leaving — I’ve clocked it at 25 minutes. That’s buying three items at three separate stores.
No trying on clothing. No gift wrapping. In, out. Done. (I’m pretty proud of my record.)
Posted under Consumer Joe, Holidays. | No Comments »
December 14th, 2003
Just a week ago I was looking forward (not) to all the house construction, the mold removal and the weekend. And now, here I sit, with the finale of Survivor: Pearl Islands playing in the background, and the weekend is basically over.
Just saw Big Fish tonight, over at the AMC Century City here in Los Angeles. I have to say, I wasn’t as loving it as I thought I would. The ending was emotional and was great, but what happened leading up to that great ending was not all I was hoping for. My problem with the movie can be explained with a term I’ve invented myself called The Dream Factor.
Posted under Film. | No Comments »
December 14th, 2003
It may just be me, but as soon as I woke up this morning and heard that Saddam was captured, I started to feel really sad for the authors of the book Where’s Saddam?.
As an author of a book, the worst thing that can happen is that a real life event renders your book obsolete. So, on the dawn of such a substantial newsworthy moment, I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen to the above book. Maybe they’ll reprint it with a new title, Here’s Saddam!, and it could be about how Saddam cuts a deal, gets his own late-night talk show, and employs Ed McMahon as his sidekick.
It could work.
Posted under Books. | No Comments »
December 13th, 2003
The following poem was written, while drinking orange juice, on August 10th, 1977 and is now being brought to you by the wonderful people of this unaffiliated website.
Oranges
by Paul Davidson, Age 6
Oranges.
They are sweet.
They make me pucker.
I throw them good,
I’m a professional chucker.
Squeeze them slow,
or squeeze them quick,
but squeeze them fast,
use a squeezing stick.
Some come packaged,
in a box,
some you pour,
right from the box,
they’re in a box,
right in the fridge,
it’s a big old box,
but it has no lid.
I like Oranges,
big and small,
they make me grow,
so strong and tall.
Thank you.
Posted under Food and Drink. | No Comments »
December 12th, 2003
I had a really disturbing experience tonight. That experience — watching Jack Nicholson rip off Diane Keaton’s sweater and make love to her. Kiss her. Even more disturbing is how close the damn camera is to her face in the whole movie. Some people have been saying things like, “For someone her age, she looks damn good.”
Well you know what — any woman over 60, no matter how good she looks, still looks old. And I don’t want to watch old people (who resemble the same age as my parents) have simulated sex on the movie screen. And I definitely don’t want to see Nicholson’s huge, fat, hairy ass on a huge, fat movie screen.
Posted under Film. | 12 Comments »
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