Twenty years ago, the best "not real" song from a movie was released. "Scotty Doesn't Know" may or may not have rocketed up the charts (I didn't care enough to look) with its pop-punk message about fucking another guy's girlfriend. The movie that delivered us this gem, Eurotrip, was also released because that's how time works. Get your shit together, reader.
A mess can be enjoyable. Something about watching a story competently fail is worthy of consideration. Take Me Home Tonight is my idea of a good mess, blending realistic outcomes to wacky hijinks and some pretty dumb shit.
Getting old seems like a giant pain in the ass. Your body and mind fail you, your support structures become few, and someone in better shape than you will terrorize you with a plastic doll. Life in a nursing home can be hell if you don't fall in line with The Rule of Jenny Penn.
The Monkey's plot is a haphazard string of events created to get us to the bloody parts. Twin brothers find an evil toy monkey that kills people when it is wound up using the method of mysterious coincidence. The Monkey exists to entertain an audience with over the top splatter, not caring about who will die or really even when.
I know I watched this in the theater, but It Could Happen To You is such an afternoon TBS movie made to fill time that I believe I always felt that was its role. Not anything life changing, but a good time. Watching it now, I see the kindness and good nature of the film.
Stagecoach jumpstarted the western genre by telling a simple story: a group of disparate individuals in a single vehicle traveling through dangerous terrain. Everyone had their own agenda and solidified the archetypes they represent. And it's also a hell of a western stunt show.
Anora sets out to shine the light of truth on a classic story of a prostitute who marries a rich guy. Pretty Woman be damned as the heroine of our story is a disconnected vaping twenty-something not looking for anything but to get paid and do some good drugs. Our rich lothario spends most of his time on screen playing video games and being intoxicated. At the end of the movie you will be seduced by the grime of it all.
If you want excitement, come on down to the library's game night where we play a rousing form of copyright-friendly role playing game excitement! Our homebrew game of Stacks & Swords invites teens and adults every month to become a member of the "Bibliotheca Animarum," an ancient library that hunts down books and artifacts that can harm humanity. We go to adventure the last Saturday afternoon of the month!
Here at the library we like to to think we are normal, everyday, eldritch being fearing folks. At the same time, we like to look around and see if there's a truth to that whole "the world is ending" thing. We took it to the book club, our general roundtable discussion group where we also do gobs of mushrooms. Here's what they said!
At the right place, the end of the shelf said "400-629," Jimmy found his way blocked by a giant stroller, a toddler pulling books from the shelf and letting them fall, and the behind of a woman bent over and waggling at him. The woman was also pulling books from the shelf, putting them back with a vengeance reserved for hammering nails into the coffin of an enemy.
A loose, useless metaphor and small discussion about the movie Hit Man (2023)
The previous Sonic movies came and went, fun and fast and breezy with a good heart. Generally the tone of "found family" and "purpose of life" have been the undercurrent for slapstick nonsense. The trend continues in Sonic the Hedgehog 3 with a metric ton of forgettable jokes circling around a dark and chewy center of loss and pain.
Dave and Nancy found the old computers while going through storage looking for children's costumes. At least, that's what they said they were doing. The two of them often find out of the way places to be alone.
Two large wooden boxes marked with red text saying "Do Not Disturb" were delivered. I got Edgar, and the two of us struggled with them from the freight dock to the technical services room. Marge said we could put them anywhere that fit.
It was a Tuesday when I first saw her face staring back at me. I had a loaded cart of nonfiction and was deep in the stacks. My eyes have been getting worse over the years, and even though I have transition glasses, the small call numbers caused some strain.
The library hums and clicks and clacks with the speed of time. Technology has replaced what came before; a baby's cry overcoming the death rattle. Yet we pretend these things are not so because who could replace us? Does being replaced mean we do not, have never, mattered?
Interesting things happen when you walk away from the circulation desk. You could come back to a line when you have not seen people all day. You could find a pile of materials, left for any reason but only a few logical. There can also be someone new when you get back.
Y'all ever seen a ghost? None of that "I was sitting in Pop-pop's favorite chair and felt a chill" shit. Pop-pop put his chair there because of the cold draft. He was used to it, liked it, and is not trying to tell you where his gold stamps are. So shut that shit.
I got shot in the arms the day before yesterday. Not in the fun way. Flu and Covid, both at the same time, walking in there like a goddamn hero.
Are you working? She's small and squat and looking up at me from the other side of the reference desk.
I said yes. Can I help?
Probably not. I have this monkey at home that keeps eating my petunias.