Mama Mia!

Yes, I went to see it. No, I won't tell you to. Unless you want to, that is.

I've said it too many times lately, but if you have to explain the movie "Mama Mia!" to anyone...they're not going to get it. Just.No.

However, a review requires certain basics, so here goes.

There's this girl who was raised by her single mom, who is getting married. Together they run a hotel?inn?hostel? on a Greek island. The girl has read her mom's diary and learned there are three guys who could possibly be her father. So she invites them to the wedding.

Um, yeah--we stepped outside of reality the second we stepped into the theater. It's a FRICKIN' MUSICAL, PEOPLE!

And here's the deal: you already know all the songs. I don't care if you hate ABBA, you really do already know the songs.

But it's fun anyway.

I won't tell you who is actually her father, who falls in love with who, what plot twists occur SIMPLY TO FIT THE LYRICS OF SONGS WRITTEN IN THE 1970s!

Because that's the fun part. But if you needed that information, you still won't get it.

To quote the BeerHound, "If you don't already know, I'm not going to tell you!"

See it if you want. Voulez vous?

'Nuther Clip

Here's another one. And to actually explain this time--these clips are of famous actors not known for singing, um, singing. It's only coincidence that the first two are Aussies.

DDD: A Review

Here is my review of Debbie Does Dallas from four years ago, though I saw it years before then:

Debbie Does Dallas is your usual porn romp. The story line--yes it has one--is that a high school cheerleader has a chance to try out for the Dallas Cheerleaders, but needs the money to get to Dallas. She and her friends decide to get jobs in order to earn money for Debbie's ticket to the big D. Then the cheerleaders decide to celebrate their stupid decision by going into the boys' locker room after the football game and giving a bunch of blow jobs, and fucking in positions that, while they would never be practical in real life, enable great camera shots.

So the stupid bitches get jobs (I wouldn't call them that, but they really are stupid, and their characters are really bitchy), and then they consent to sexual acts while on the job in order to justify their hourly wages. Blah, blah, blah, sex-with-the-owner-of-the-candle-store-where-you-work-while-his wife-watches-because-they-caught-you-masturbating-with-a-candle-cakes. You know, the usual.

I have no idea how the movie ends. Does anyone? If so, let me know. But the most significant issue is that 1) Debbie doesn't, in fact, do Dallas, nor does the movie take place there and 2) Debbie, in fact, doesn't do anyone in the movie. Well, at least in the first half. Her friends do everyone. But Debbie just kind of disappears.

Why is this movie famous? Was it the first porn released on VHS or something? For the story line that reflected current 70s culture and their obsession with the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders (TM)? I have no idea. It's just a porn. See it to say you did.

Toni

Scarlet fever

I once had a disease called scarletina. It's the same thing as scarlet fever, though you will never get my mother to admit as such (just as you will never get her to admit a tornado took down those three giant elm trees at the old homestead, but didn't touch the house 30 feet to the South). Once mom learns her facts, she doesn't like changing them.

The "fact" in this case, is that scarletina is "milder" than scarlet fever. Do any of y'all remember stories from the 19th century where scarlet fever was a horrible disease that people died of, or spent months in recovery for it, and ended up blind or something? Yeah, that disease.

Well, it's actually pretty basic. It's an untreated case of strep throat. With no treatment it becomes toxic, and after that if it isn't treated, it becomes potentially lethal.

I don't know why it went from being "scarlet fever" to "scarletina" but I suspect it was a lot of people saying, "Well it didn't kill 'em, so it couldn't have been scarlet fever, but I for damn sure thought that's what it was. Let's call it...um...scarletina. Little scarlet fever. Yeah, that'll work."

So it's the same disease, except people don't die of it any more because there are now treatments for it. Antibiotics and aspirin and such.

I knew I was sick, the day I had it. My mom had gone to her friend Ruthie's, to help her re-cover her sofa or make curtains or something. My sister and brother got to go along, and if I'd been feeling normal I would have been upset I was being left behind. I loved hanging out with Ruthie's three sons! But I didn't care, which really should have tipped everyone off. My grandmother took care of me instead, and for once she came to our house, instead of me going to hers. (Her house was across our yard.) I remember when she took a nap--she always took a nap, purportedly to get us children to sleep, but 90% of the time she would sleep and we'd just play or something. Once we took the unsupervised opportunity to butter our grandfather's head as HE slept, but I digress.

Grandma was taking care of me, and while she slept, as I lay there I scraped my ring on the texture of the wall, because it made this really cool echoing sound! I can't describe it very well, but it was like the SFX when the Million Dollar Man used to jump or run? Yeah, like that. For those of you who weren't blessed enough to grow up in the 70s, here's William Shatner to explain it to you:



So I was laying there, thinking that maybe now I could run 65 MPH. Except my skin felt really weird, like sandpaper. Meh, whatever, I didn't particularly care because that sound was so cool! I tried to wake up Grandma and have her listen, but that was a mistake. Eleanora never had the patience to listen to REAL sounds, let alone pay attention to a little girl who was acting unusually docile and whose skin could be used at 220 grit. So she didn't notice anything wrong.

Which made her feel really guilty when Mom got home and freaked out because I was obviously, seriously ill.

Well, no problem because then Grandma got to babysit BeerHound and The Boy while she ran me to the Emergency Room.

They downplayed it.

"No it's not Scarlet Fever, it's just Scarletina!" Mom kept saying. Because, ya know, people die of one but not the other.

Hey, that re-naming thing worked! However, I doubt Mom will EVER believe that they're the same thing. Because Dr. Holmstrom said so! He'd never lie!

(For the record, he lied to her all the time to get her to calm down.)

Maybe that's where I learned how to do it!

Random Question

Why do certain Christians attempt to dictate (and in some cases, litigate) the behavior and beliefs of others, purportedly so that these others will recognize Jesus as their Saaaaaviour, so that they may see the Glooooory of Heaven, when it's really obvious that the Christians in question obviously don't even LIKE the heathens they're trying to convert? Why do these people want to spend eternity with people they don't like? I mean, I know that since we'll supposedly all be perfect and sin-free in heaven, we will therefore like one another, but that doesn't really wash for me.

I'm thinking, even in Heaven, there will be people I will prefer to NOT spend time with. In Heaven, would you rather watch Beethoven actually hear his last few symphonies for the first time ever and watch him say, "Man, that was a little overstated. Why didn't y'all tell me?" As opposed to watching Bach and hear him say, "You want to hear 'Air' AGAIN? Fuck that; let's do some Zepplin." And then Hendrix would yell "Free Bird!" from the audience and Meat Loaf would sit on him.

I, personally would rather join Douglas Adams in his quest to find a decent drink, than listen to Martha Stewart tell me why this Chilean cabernet is perfect for the meal she's serving.

As the wise philosopher Joel once said, "The sinners are much more fun."

Which is probably why those self-appointed saints I was first referring to, take issue.

They're jealous. Even in Heaven, they won't be invited to the fun parties and the cool places. I bet most of them don't even know what a pan-galactic gargle blaster is.

I hate to shop

Pretend you work in retail. Say, at the store my kids call the Giant Controller Store.

If I asked you if you had "A power converter that plugs into a standard 110 A/C socket and the other end is the female end of a D/C cigarette lighter" would you know what I wanted?

Would you send me to the CAR ACCESSORIES section? Where such an accessory would NEVER be used (that being, in a car)?

No, I didn't think so, because YOU aren't stupid. Like the people at the Giant Controller Store.

It's a $2 item. Which they don't have. At the Giant Controller Store. Apparently.

The dumb thing is, I drove by Radio Shack about EIGHT times today and didn't think to stop.

Because, I guess, I'm stupid.

And, Too, Two...

Um, howdy. Did you miss me?

I'll try and make the recap short.

Went to Minnesota. Saw BeerHound's house on the way and it's lovely! And the garage is fantabulous! Then hightailed it to the Farm because The Boy needed a body with a hammer attached to help with his new roof.

Surprised my parents with the arrival of BeerHound, DuffMan, and The Dave.

And lastly: North Dakota is the Rubbernecker Capital of the World. They ALL stared at us roofing when they drove by, and NONE waved back when I waved at them. Geez. Even in my neighborhood, where it took me eight (yes EIGHT) years to learn the name of the lady who lives right behind us, we at least WAVE at each other. Plus I always wave at the roofers and lawn people and such. Say hi to them on their lunch break if I walk by. 'Mkay, I say 'Hola' more often than 'Hi,' but still. And morning walk/run time is downright social.

Confidential to the person who stole my nephew Snickelfritz' go-kart: First, you're an ass. Second, good luck getting it to run! Bwahaaahaaahaaa!