Columbo

Why is Columbo so fucking cool?

If I had a glass eye I would be sitting at home... wathcing Columbo. But not Lt. Columbo. Hells naw. He is out there, shambling along, forgetting shit left and right and always carrying too much stuff in his pockets.

Please do me a favor and take the Columbo quiz.

http://www.columbo-site.freeuk.com

It's kind of a crazy site. What really freaked me out is the fact that it has classified ads. Let's not look at those, what kind of sick, troglodytic Columbo-loving-basset hound-owning freaks are searchign for each other out there?

FunnyBones

Since I have been prodded and nudged, I had best write about this incident.

The other night, Daniel and I were making dinner. We were having one of our favorite meals: chickpea and spinach curry on top of a fried egg and a chapati, it's kind of a southeast asian take on the 'huevo ranchero', which is one of our other favorites. Anyway, I mentioned to Daniel that we had five eggs left. The conversation went something like thins:

Me: We have five eggs!
Daniel: Five Egg Goes West!
Me: What?!
Daniel (almost dying of laughter): FIVE EGG GOES WEST!!!!!

For you film buffs out there, this is the sick and twisted mangling of the movie title 'An American Tale: Fievel Goes West' which came out in 1991 as a sequel to the (absolutely fucking bonkers) film 'An American Tale.'

This is the man I married, people.

However to give credit where it is due, I cracked up as well, so let's leave it at that.

Three in a row

So, I have the day off today, thanks to this lovely public holiday thing. I slept a little late and just now have gotten up to have some coffee and some cereal... and I turned on the tv to keep me company and lo und behold, the three music videos that the weird VH1/mtv esque channel has played are:

Spice Girls: When 2 Become 1
Lionel Richie: Hello (Is It Me You're Looking For?)
Whitney Houston: I Will Always Love You

Good god! Talk about blasts from the past. I know that certain people out there remember the Spice Girls video especially well... and now that time has passed, I see even more how ridiculous it is. They are perched in little places all over New York City: a 'rock' near the Staten Island Ferry terminal, the middle of Times Square, Madison Square Park, Columbus Circle, some rafters overhanging the traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge... I mean, what the fuck?

The real scary part is how relatively healthy Victoria Beckham looks... she looks like she actually has a pulse, whereas now, what with the release of her and David's new 'fragrance' she has been in the press a lot and you can see the waxen, deer-in-the-headlights look she has. The best thing is the name of the fragrance: Intimately Beckham. Eeeeeeeew, that is sooo nasty! I call it the scent of desperation, or the whiff of fear. But doesn't 'Intimately Beckham' sound so dirty?

Um, I kind of got carried away there a bit, the point is, this lovely music channel has given me a trip down memory lane. Right now they are playing 'Eternal Flame'!

Evil Lurks

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

www.barryvandyke.fano.net

Beware the Black Dahlia

Why? Because it STINKS! Seriously, folks. I thought this movie would be good. I am a big fan of the whole film noir thing and I thought surely this would not disappoint. But Daniel and I went to see it the other night and it was almost painful. You know how the moment comes when you can tell a movie is going to be bad? Well, that moment was within the first 5 minutes of The Black Dahlia, and then it was alllll down hill.

I mean, Hillary Swank? She has TEETH, many many teeth. Josh harnett? He just looks DUMB... and does nothing to prove otherwise. And the other guy, Aaron something, was just busted. Scarlet Johansson was not great, but at least she wasn't laughable. But really, nobody got out of there without blood on their hands. Brain De Palma, shame on you, sir!

I Love Paris, the weather is wonderful

The scene: rue Tiquetonne, beautiful sunny day about 1.00 pm. Daniel and I are sitting at a cafe (natch), sipping on some cola. The lovely tranquility of the scene is spoiled by a goofy man in an untucked pink Oxford shirt stumbling over the curb. Who is this man, I ask myself?

DAVE PRICE, goofy New York weatherman extraordinaire on CBS, formerly of FOX! NO way! Of ALL the people to recognize in Paris, I had to spot Dave effing Price. And his girlfriend. I see now (after some qt on google) that his lady love is cosmetic dentist Nancy Rosen and that for a thrill, they chnaged jobs for a day and she did the weather on CBS and he took over in her dental office. What? That is so wrong. What madness!

Anyway, it may seem like that was the best part of the trip... and it nearly was, because how does it get any better than that? Once I explained why I was laughing and freaking out about this guy, Daniel kept threatening to go up and take a picture, as they were sitting at the same cafe and then walked by sharing a crepe! How dreamy. Love!

But, the rest fo the trip was even better: we stayed in a gorgeous hotel (thanks to the 'rents) on a beautiful street and had matching bathrobes. We didnb't even try to steal them, that's how nice they were, they would have disintegrated once they reached Dennistoun soil because they were not meant to be in such a place.

We ate wonderful breakfasts, and strolled and ate more, and then we went to see The Science of Sleep (La Science des Reves) which was awesome and fully confirmed that I have a huge crush on Gael Garcia Bernal. Huge. Larger than Marlong Brando on a fat day.

See it! It is the best!