The movie The Spirit of the Beehive was recommended to me by Netflix because I "enjoyed Annie Hall and Modern Times." Here is the description:
"In this mesmerizing allegorical tale set in post-Civil War Spain, precocious young Ana ... becomes obsessed with finding the spirit of Frankenstein's monster after watching director James Whale's 1931 classic. When she happens upon a wounded military deserter, Ana believes that she's evoked the cinematic creature."
Yeah, that just shouts Woody Allen and Charlie Chaplin, doesn't it?
A neighbor just called because she and her husband are hearing what they assume are squirrels in their attic. The question is, Why did they call me? I mean, do we look like Rodent Central over here? Anyway, I explained to her that we don't do squirrels, we do mice (everyone specializes these days, you know) and I gave her the number of the neighbor who owns his very own squirrel trap (the humane kind). I like to be helpful when I can. Which isn't often...
Larry took the teens out to a meeting about "summer workcamp" this evening. Sounds great, doesn't it? But the "camp" only lasts a week. I figure, if you're going to call it "summer workcamp," it should last all summer. Otherwise, why don't they just call a spade a spade (and what the hell does that mean, anyway?) and call it "way-too-short workcamp" or (better yet) "not-nearly-long-enough-to-make-you-appreciate-the-comforts-of-home, you-spoiled-brats-you, workcamp"?
Maybe the organizers felt that was too wordy.
I know I've been greeting a lot of people lately, but tonight I would like to give a wave to those people heading over here from MadMad's blog. I may not be as uproariously funny as she is, guys; but I do grow on you. Stick around.