Comment on this entry and I will give you a year; you then post to your blog with your memories of that year.
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Last week I watched the BBC version of Dracula done in 1977. It was done by the same people who normally did adaptations of Vanity Fair and Oliver Twist. They adapt Stoker's novel with the same respect and general adherence to the story they show towards William Thackeray and Charles Dickens, and as a result it's definitely the most faithful ( Read more... )

One little compliment can make you feel amazing. So give me a compliment, anything in the entire world, even that my shoelaces are pretty (even if I don't WEAR shoes with laces....). Put this in your journal. And once you get some comments, put that entry in a memory or tag and when you are feeling down, just go to that entry and this will remind ( Read more... )

Look, I generally don't waste my time writing about bad films, but this kind of pretentious tripe getting positive reviews really leaves me baffled and frankly does not help the charges at times that critics can sometimes be stuck up their own collective asses that they're so relieved that something's different from other films that they confuse it ( Read more... )

90 seconds of Vegas Showgirls, Pat Morita, Scott Baio, The woman from all those Bounty paper towel commercials, and a dog named Blackjack.

This may sum up the seventies better than words ever could. (originally hepped to me by Jaime J. Weinman's excellent TV blog for Maclean's.)

Nipped from hellbound_heart

( My Interests Collage! )

The life and times of country singer Dewey Cox whose drug addictions and bigamy are all due to the result of his father disowning him after Dewy accidentally cut his more talented brother in half with a machete...

I was reminded of Dave Foley's The True Meaning of Christmas Specials while watching this. You know that the players involved are capable ( Read more... )

I'm going to be honest. I don't think I'm going to react well to hitting age 70. I'll probably will never save money and social security is going to be gone by then. Bled dry by the baby boomers. So I could turn onto one of those old men living in fleabag hotels. It's not a fate I particularly desire, so this is what I'm going to do instead ( Read more... )