What have I learned from this past month?  First, I’ve learned that doing something you enjoy doing is much less enjoyable when it becomes a requirement.  Secondly, I’ve learned that I rely too heavily on words like like, however, and seriously.  Lastly, I’ve learned what kind of dedication it takes to type in complete sentences when there’s a cat obstructing your view of the monitor.  As Ruby is doing right now.

I can safely say that I’m not really a post a day kind of person.  More like three or four times a week.  That’s what I’m going to shoot for from now on.  But this week, expect me to take a nice, relaxing break.

Maybe.

If I had kids, I just don’t think I’d take them to see this movie.  We’re talking about MY imaginary kids, mind you.  So they’re probably already taking antidepressants.  “Here, kids, watch this movie.  It’ll teach how much life sucks.”  Also, I don’t think they need the idea put into their heads that whenever they leave the room, their toys are coming to life.  That was a personal phobia of my own when I was little.  I had nightmares that my Shogun Warriors came to life and tried to make me eat their choking-hazard parts.  You don’t need to psycho-analyze that for me, by the way.

I don’t want to turn anyone off of the movie.  It’s very moving and entertaining.  If you like Pixar, you’ll dig it.  If you don’t like Pixar, you’re a heartless shell of human being.  You make the choice.

If you do pick it up, don’t miss the short animated feature, Night & Day.  Or, Day & Night.  One of those.  Great stuff.

I’m outa here.

What can I say about Wholly Moses?  How about nothing.

Human Centipede is a . . .

No, hold on, I really should say something about Wholly Moses.  How about this;  Wholly Moses is one of the worst movies I have ever watched.  I have watched A LOT of movies.  So, I guess you do have to give it credit for that.  Making my all time worst movies list is not an easy feat to pull off.  In fact, I don’t even have such a list.  Thanks to this movie, I do now.  Wholly Moses is currently holding strong at the first position.

Moving right along, if you haven’t heard of Human Centipede, it’s a much hyped horror movie in which a mad scientist kidnaps several people and constructs a “human centipede” by surgically connecting them ass to mouth.  It breaks down like this:  Segment #1 eats some food, shits it out into segment #2, who then digests it, and shits it out into segment #3, who then just shits it out.  I hope my technical, medical jargon didn’t lose anyone.

All of this shitting and eating of shit, by the way, is never portrayed in the movie.  (Believe me, I’m not complaining.)  The ass-to-mouth business is also pretty tame.  Bandages cover everything, so there’s little gross out factor at work their either.  In fact, there’s hardly anything bad in this movie at all other than the core idea.  I’m not even sure why the doc wanted to do this experiment in the first place.  As near as I can tell, he had some dogs that died and I think he maybe just needed a new pet around the house.  We do see a scene where he tries to teach the human centipede to fetch, so I think I might be onto something.

Honestly, I was expecting more segments in the centipede; at least five or six people.  Three people seemed a little thin to me.  And the guy in position #1 kept getting on my nerves.  All he did was complain constantly.  On and on, blah blah blah.  I think that’s a time when you really have to be a “the glass is half full” kind of person.  At least he didn’t have to eat anyone else’s shit.  You might think I’m being hard on him, but I’ll bet good money that segments #2 and #3 envied the hell out of him.  And when there’s someone in the world who envies you, things can’t be all bad.

For the movie itself, I can’t recommend it as entertainment in the normal sense.  But I will say that it could make a great party movie.  The look on others’ faces while they watch it would be worth the price of a rental alone.  Also, it could spark some great dialogue among spectators.  For instance, if you were making human centipede, who would you include?  I’d have to go with the old standard of Jane Seymour, Andrew Dice Clay, and Cindy Williams.  Come one, what else are they doing these days?

Stay tuned this coming week for my reaction to Toy Story 3.

This morning, Mrs. Lizard King said, “You know, Sweetie.  You’re getting too old to drink like that.  Your body can’t handle it.”

To which I replied, “I will not let society’s restrictions keep me from achieving my dreams.”

Heh.  That showed her.

Ugh.  I have to go lie down.

And what better way to continue the Thanksgiving festivities than by settling with with a couple of holiday features.  Tonight, my good friend, the dreaded Kingmob, and I, will be screening Wholly Moses (Starring Dudley Moore) and the Human Centipede (starring a human centipede).  There will be lots of drinking involved, followed by bad religious jokes, followed by hot centipede-on-centipede action.  Then we’re going to watch the movies.  Ha!  Just kidding.  It promises to be a great time, and I sincerely hope I don’t hurl.

Aren’t you sad that you can’t join us, Internet?  I feel for you, so here’s a taste of what you’ll be missing.

(Moses-wise, not Centipede.  Perfectly safe to watch, I swear.)

Finally, after all these years, I have made my dream turkey.  Seasoned with tarragon, garlic, butter, salt, pepper, rosemary, thyme, and savory.  This is a joyous day indeed!

Merry Thanksgiving Day everyone.  And to all, a good feasting.

Now, bring on the beer and pecan pie!

(Ding!)  Round two.

If you’re currently watching AMC’s The Walking Dead, but you haven’t read the comic series it’s based upon, this past week’s episode captures the feel of the comic perfectly.  That might be because it was written by series creator, Robert Kirkman.  As a man whose never written for television before, he comes out with both shotguns blasting and taking no prisoners.  That doesn’t make much sense, I know.  Suffice to say, he did a fantastic job.  Per usual, much of the episode is entirely new material, diverging significantly from the original story.  I can only imagine how strange it must be for Kirkman to go back and rewrite his own story with new characters and plot twists.  Although, they’re his characters and he knows them characters thoroughly.  It must also be a great opportunity to flesh them out even further.  (No pun intended.)

Everything I love about the comic was there in that episode.  At first I was hesitant about the direction they were taking with the show.  Now I’m very excited by the new elements they’re bringing in.  I’m able to rediscover the story without simply sitting through an overly faithful rehash of events I’ve already read about.  As long as the quality is there, I don’t care where they take it.

The show does have a tendency to indulge in melodrama from time to time.  I think when you’re dealing with a zombie show created for mass appeal, the sentimentality is going to be hard to avoid.  I’ll be happy if they keep it to a minimum without dipping back into moments like Rick’s “I’m going to tell my wife about Dwayne” speech from episode 2.  He never did tell his wife about Dwayne, did he?

Rick’s full of shit.

WARNING: This will make you laugh out loud.

It was very brave of her to say this.  She knows how deeply the old wound still burns.

Seven years ago we tried to cook a turkey.  I mean, cook a raw turkey.  None of this pre-smoked bullshit.  We got Alton Brown’s recipe from the Food Network.  Alton Brown, host of the long running Good Eats, said that basting was a waste of time, since the broth just runs off of the meat and isn’t absorbed.  So, we did not baste.  Alton also said that continually opening the oven to baste the turkey lengthened the cooking time.  It was best to put it in the oven and keep the door closed until the bird was done.  So, that’s what we did.

I slaved over that turkey.  I had great hopes for that turkey.  That turkey was like the child I could never have.  (Don’t worry, it’s not a physical thing; I’m just not crazy about kids.)  We followed Alton’s recipe to the letter.  We checked the temperature just like Alton said.  No cheap pop up thingy for us.  No, sir.  Alton said that would cause the succulent juices to drain out, leaving our golden turkey a dry, mummified husk.  We used a fancy meat thermometer.  When it was time, we checked the temp, and it was just as it should have been.  We set about carving our first we-did-it-all-ouselves Thanksgiving turkey.  The result?

The turkey was still red in the middle.

Red.  Blood red.

The turkey was still red for the love of Moses, Alton, it was still red you sonofabitch!

Okay. Deep breath.

I told you, it’s a touchy subject.  I get emotional.

I ended up dismantling the turkey and frying it.  Fried turkey.  For Thanksgiving.

Fried turkey for Thanksgiving, Alton!  Bet you never had to have fried turkey for Thanksgiving you monkey loving AntiChrist!

Okay.  Oh, boy.  I’m going to have cut this post short.

Anyhow, Mrs. Lizard King convinced me that after seven years of mourning, it was time to give it another go.  We’ve already bought the victim- I mean, the subject – I mean, the Butterball.  It doesn’t feel like ours yet.  I’m hoping in a few days that will change.  Maybe we’ll do some bonding activities with it.  Take it to the movies or something, I don’t know.

I promise not to leave you hanging.  I will document this procedure every step of the way.  Just like they did in the movie Splice.

On second thought, that’s a really disturbing example.  Forget I said that.

Oh, did I mention we’re also having pie?