I'm hoping this post actually gets posted-- I have had some trouble with Blogger this week and I did write one long post the other day that got swallowed up somehow.

Well, blogging problems aside, I have, oh, not much to say, really. Sometimes I think about killing this blog and starting a new one, totally anonymous. I've been having paranoid moments (could this blog cost me a job interview?) and moments of hating my writing (like this post) and moments of boredom... all three of these moment-types make me think of throwing it all away. But I don't want to be a tired old lyric of a Phil Collins song! And Goonies never say die. So the Blog is safe, at the moment. Still, coming up on two years on this thing, and sometimes it does seem like I run out of things to say sometimes.

I was walking with Katie tonight and I was just sort of breathing in the cooler air, looking at the sky and being relaxed as hell. Nothing of interest happened on my walk, except for the moment when Katie spotted one of those plaster donkeys-pulling-a-cart-that's-a-plant-holder on someone's yard. She was staring the plaster donkey down, growling a very quiet growl. I think she thought it was a stiff dog. Or, more likely, she really hates tacky lawn ornaments. It's been so cool having her around not only for the exercise partner and the security system she serves as, but because she is very entertaining. When I come home, she goes beserk. She barks this high pitched bark and her tail wags so fast her whole ass shakes, and she jumps on me and throws herself to the floor and rolls around and grabs her chew toys and runs around the room... You know, some people may not be into the whole pets thing, and that's cool, but I really think these people have never been really greeted by a dog that loves them. With the exception of Malcolm, I have always had a dog in my life that was super excited when I came home, and I think that has made the difference between me being a total asshole and being a little nicer of an asshole.

Tonight I saw "The Aviator" with Trish and Kane, and we didn't like it. As a group, we concurred that this movie was not up to our liking. I have to say that I think Martin Scorsese definitely DIDN'T deserve the Oscar for this, so I am happy he didn't win. It was way too long and there was too much technical talk of planes, too much of the boring Ava Gardner character and too many jars of piss. I think the only movie of Scorsese's that I have liked has been "Good Fellas" (just of the movies I have seen, anyway). I thought the acting in Aviator was decent, and sometimes even really, really good (I always love me a Katharine Hepburn, so I was glad Cate did her well) but I lay the blame squarely on Marty for making this movie crappy. Maybe the eyebrows are growing so long they are obscuring his directorial sense. I don't know. All I know was that Kane warned me never to watch "Bringing Out the Dead" because, in his words, it was "nothing but two hours of John Goodman and Nicolas Cage riding around in an ambulance listening to Nicolas Cage apologize to some dead lady." You got it, Black, I won't watch it ever. Nope!

I did, however, watch "Kill Bill 1&2" this weekend...I can't top that. I just simply adore those movies. So fucking much. David Carradine is totally getting an invitation to star in my movie, when I write it. Hell, I will write something special just for him. And for the heck of it, I'll also invite Michael Parks (I love Estoban) and Lucy ("...Now's the fucking time!!") Lui too. Robert Rodriguez has to do the score--in tandem with Danny Elfman if Danny goes old school again. Speaking of RR, the happy geek in me is dying to see "Sin City." I can't get over the visuals of those trailers. Can't get over how they managed to make film look like frames of a comic book. I couldn't give a crap about the story in this particular case. I like the look. Sometimes I am so deeply shallow.

Today at the K-Mart I saw the most depressing Easter Bunny. A slouchy employee was dressed in a simply horrible bunny costume. The Easter Bunny's face was all pushed in so he looked like a white sharpei-face. This is the all-time crappiest and most ghetto K-Mart around (the same one that had the guy playing the organ out front one night in the rain that I wrote about awhile ago), and they plopped the Easter Bunny onto a garden bench set up just inside the doors. A red poster hung behind him as the 'backdrop', and another employee, a skinny girl with terrible skin, was ready to take Polaroid pictures of any kiddies lining up to see the easter Bunny. However, both as I was entering and as I left, I saw no children and their parents hanging around this Easter Bunny. I wouldn't either... his posture was very drunk, careless and I'm sorry, but any Easter Bunny who sits slumped over with his legs spread slightly does NOT make anyone other than registered sex offenders want to climb in his lap.

That reminds me: What do kids do when they see the Easter Bunny? I mean, you go see Santa and you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas. I can't imagine a kid sitting on the Easter Bunny's lap and saying, "I want...chocolate, and...chocolate, and...maybe some gum...and the resurrection of my Savior..." Do kids make Easter lists? I don't recall doing that. Although one year when I was about 7, I was thinking ahead to the possibilities and trying to convince the Bunny not to bring me certain things. I wrote a letter to the Easter Bunny asking him to please NOT bring me a live pet bunny because I thought my cat Benji would kill it. I was always an animal activist. And wouldn't ya know, the Easter Bunny agreed with me and not only didn't bring me a pet rabbit, but that bunny gave me a crisp $5 bill in with my candy that year too. There are photos of that Easter somewhere in the family album, and I am proudly smiling a missing-tooth smile, holding up my $5 bill in one hand and a candy rabbit in the other. I wonder why the Easter Bunny thought money was necessary in this case. Very curious.

Another year, my family's pet Doberman ate my chocolate baby out of my Easter basket while we were at church. I came home and cried at the loss of my chocolate baby. I love that I had a chocolate baby once--and yeah, even if I didn't get to eat it! Where did that come from, anyway? You never see chocolate babies for sale these days. I really loved growing up in the 70s.