Odds and Sods

Happy Birthday, Aunna. I hope you wake up without a hangover. Remind me to get "Minute by Minute" into your possession.

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Open Letter to Commenters,

If you're ripping on something I say, I get the whole posting without a moniker, but, when you come with gold like:

""Nobody leaves Baby in the corner" that line would be more bad ass if Dirty Dancing were a gangster movie, and Swayze machetes Jerry Orbach to death, then has anal sex with Jenifer Grey, in a corner no less."

I'd like to be able give you mad props. That shit is gold and is exactly the sort of response that I want from my readers. Kudos, whoever you are. Kudos.

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And finally, tomorrow I get re-CPRed. Watch out world because when I give CPR, your unconscious ass is getting the tongue.

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Addendum at 6:45 in the morning:

Scarface--yeah, that Scarface--is one big piece of shit. Pacino is terrible (and I like 70's Pacino). Pfieffer is awful (my friend, Chad, stated the other night that he's never seen anyone be as shitty in a movie as Michelle Pfieffer was in Scarface, and that pronouncement is not far off). It's far too long. It also marks the beginning of the end for Pacino. After Scarface, he still had a nuanced performance or two--Sea of Love comes to mind, but even that allowance is drawn from a vague recollection--but his career became filled with roles in which we were treated to Al Pacino yelling the entire fucking time with little room for anything but his new, loud persona. It's really a damn shame because he's so fucking amazing in the first Godfather film, and maybe I'm drunk (check) and on crack but I don't recall him freaking out and going into some screaming tirade at all in that film. So, I guess if you're reading this Al, you're at a 10, we need you at a 2.