The Good Times are Killing Me

I one the sandbox: This week, the 18th Letter will begin kindergarten at the elementary school I attented as a kid. Circle of life. Unlike the old man, here's hoping she graduates. (6th grade was hard!)

Make like a tree and get out of here: Language is a powerful thing, and this point was recently driven home when, last night, I watched The Exorcist on Korean cable, where such shocking proclamations as "your mother sucks cocks in Hell" and "stick your cock up his ass, you cocksucking faggot" were replaced with "your mother is in Hell" and "don't make me laugh." Which partially explains why, tonally, William Friedkin's masterpiece of horror isn't considered as terrifying as it is in the west. It also explains why the film is rated 15+ on the penninsula. TVNgels is 19+ and The Exorcist is 15+. Go figure.

Who's gonna take the weight?: Further proof that I am a man with a child's mind, this morning I woke up and weighed myself on the bathroom scale I keep in my kitchen. 69.6 kilograms. Then I drank a liter of water and weighed myself again. 69.6 kilograms. I cry bullshit. I want my money back for the scale, and if the warranty has expired, I figure I can easily sell it to an underachieving, optimistic dieter.

Taurus: David Fincher's Zodiac is a great film. I was inrigued for every 256 minutes of it's duration, even the part in the middle where Jake Gyllenhaal had to take his dog for a walk, clean his bathroom, and cook tomato soup. Zodiac, like sniffing glue and eating semi-live octopus, is a terrific experience, one which I loved yet don't wish to repeat. Because if 300 taught me anything, it's that you need to skew history a bit to make it rewatchable (why the fuck wasn't Ione Skye riding a rhinoceros?). Otherwise, I might as well go back to school like Rodney Dangerfield or Johnny Depp and Peter Deluise, Mr. Fincher. No thanks (unless I get to have a gun and take down drug dealers). And Mark Ruffalo stating that he's been a police detective for 25 years is perhaps the most incredibly unbelievable line delivered in cinematic history. Ruffalo -- who has a funny surname and talks as though his jaw were wired shut -- is 39, although he looks much, much younger. Word to Tim Olyphant. I am supposed to belive this baby-faced marble-mouth has been on the force 25 years? You'd be more successful convincing me Vince Carter has male gonads.

If a train leaving Topeka...: It took me 25 years, but I finally discovered how foolscap paper got its name. Which makes me feel smart. 20-years-old-Brain Age-level smart. Hopefully by the time I'm 70 I'll have learned how a bowling ball and wedding band can fall to the ground at the same speed, and why lions and flamingoes can't make babies.

Dogs are forever in the push-up position: