Monster a Go- Go

Ya know, I can't make this shit up. Really. Truly.  Reality is waay more funked up than any twistedness emanating from my frontal lobe or black pysche.

Boys and I are home, enjoying an array of shitastic cineamatic effluvia, courtesy of  Netflix on Demand. We enjoy a nasty sci- fi. Family Bonding and all. Last week, Fantastic Voyage, with Raquel Welch being molested by macrophages and some dude with a serious cleft chin. Nice.

Just so ya know, they're doing a remake. Should be out next summer. Whoa. This dreck won an Oscar. As our movies go, not so miserable.

Then, we found this! Oh. My. God. Monster A Go- Go. I can't even find a non MST3K clip to share. However, for those really curious it is available on Hulu. FREE!  Worst movie ever. We know crappy movies in multiple genres and this stinker takes the cake.

• horrible audio
• washed out video. Light meter? Anyone???
• funky awful editing
• never ending helicopter scenes
• hipsters dancing go- go

• no continuity. Story? We don't need no stinking story!
• the "monster" and special effects are neither scary nor special. 

Sixty- three minutes we will never get back. But, way more gratifying than a Tom Cruise movie.

Nominees for your favorite Most Loathsome Waste of Film?    

     

Crushing?

For Valentine's Day, I'm gonna come clean. I have a big Crush. Not the Leave Your Husband and Kids Become the Talk of the PTO Crush, as that would be too predictable and boring. Requires far too much energy and planning for my ADD addled self.

No, my crush is cerebral. More the " Wow! That's sooo cool! I wanna be her friend!" Not a "special" friend, but the Let's Trade Books and MP3's and Drink Martinis from Coffee Cups buddy.

I first read Jincy Willett a few years ago. Her voice is snarky clear with impeccable characterizations and delicious, elegant plot twists. The cherry on top is Ms. Willett's contributions to McSweeney's. Yeah, I'm a fan. I promise not to stalk. The Writing Class should be prerequisite for claiming, " I am a writer." Really? Wonder what Jincy's rejoinder would be? 

The Jincy library is not permitted to circulate amongst my associates. They can have all the Oprah yawners and NYT smash hits. I keep Jincy to myself. Bonus: Ms. Willett authored a NYT Book review of Elizabeth Stuckey-French's The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady, this week. May have to add Ms. Stuckey-French to the list.  

After Ms. Willett, my next not so secret crush is Hollis Gillespie. Monogamy is over rated. Once upon a time, I was introduced to the Ms. Gillespsie's work by Sista' Carrie. Bleachy Haired Honky Bitch; Confessions of a Recovering Slut; and Trailer Trashed also inhabit the hallowed Thou Shalt Not Lend shelf, alarmed and enclosed in a veil of razor wire. 

If I could write even an itty bity, teeny tiny fraction as well as these ladies, I'd consider that a success.

So, what's on your Thou Shalt Not Lend Shelf? 

 

Apples and Trees

This morning is a bracing 1F with negative wind chills. Toasty. Normally, my progeny walk to school. Not a huge endeavor, as we live on the same block as their schools. Walking to school is usually much faster than driving given the traffic patterns and distracted teen drivers.


As is my habit when the weather is especially awful, I drove my children to school. Me and every other Concerned Mommy. 

Traffic patterns+ teen drivers distracted by cell phones and texting= a very cranky O' Susannah for the Morning Drive. This morning, it took no less than four traffic light signal cycles to turn left on to the school campus. 

I dropped 16yo off at high school, first. Then, headed to the rear of the campus to the Middle School, navigating between icy mountains  of snow and teens on cell phones walking into traffic. By the time I had successfully cleared the high school, I was in rare form, cursing and blaspheming all who dared cross in front of me. Swearing as Performance Art. In retrospect, I'm reasonably certain not all of them are the misbegotten products of Hell wraiths and Biblically prohibited acts. 

Skidding to a slippery "stop" at a three- way intersection at the entrance to the Middle School, I politely gestured ( Really! Just a simple mittened hand wave...no fingers!) for the other car to proceed. 

" See? I'm not always a screaming bitch." 

" Mom, don't do that." 

" Don't do what?"

"Lie to yourself."

" What do you mean?"  Fighting more demolition derby traffic, but now with added interest of a roundabout and patches of tire- piercing irregular chunks of ice.

" You work really hard to achieve that! Don't sell yourself short!"  

Pulling up the school, " I love you and have a good day. Now, get out of the car!"

I left the school campus, laughing. Back home, I shared the above with my husband, who let lose with a hearty belly laugh. Most parents would be distraught, hurt, or angry if a 13 yo child had addressed them in that manner. Not me. 13yo just called me out on my bad behavior in a witty and tactful way.  

Mid Winter

Today is beautiful! Crystalline clear blue skies. Sun sparkling against the icy snow. Intricate frost meandering across frozen surfaces.


Feels like Change is in the air. 

I dunno know what's going to happen or when, but electricity is in the air. And it's not just static from Winter. Can you feel it, too?

Maybe, I'm just waking from winter slumber? A sort of creative hibernation?

Let's make something!