fresh | day old | links | e-mail | guestbook | diaryland

2003-10-20 | 11:29 p.m.

when corduroy licorice's trumpet was stolen, his band teacher offered him the spare one the school kept in storage. unfortunately, corduroy insisted on blowing his own horn.


movie warning:

don't go see the new coen brothers' movie.

i never thought that phrase would ever exit my keyboard, but, alas, as s.e. hinton said, "nothing gold ever stays." or something like that.

the movie is called, fittingly, "intolerable cruelty." it's a bloated mess with comedy misfires ricocheting throughout. gone is the quirky jewelbox of a world that ethan and joel are so famous for crafting. gone is the winking, clever writing. in its place are the signs of an attempt to dilute their weirdness with what hollywood looks for in a blockbuster movie, but it doesn't even muster pop schlock status.

i will say that george clooney starts out on the right foot with some funny characterizations as a merciless divorce lawyer. catherine zeta-jones looks gorgeous and manages to get in a few zingers near the start of the film.

sure, screwball comedies are hard to get right. but this one doesn't even come close. the big laugh sight gag in the film actually made me wince in embarassment. i never thought i'd see the day. i just have to focus on the positive and the past: raising arizona, hudsucker proxy, the man who wasn't there. whew. ok. i'm starting to feel better.


i've noticed a spate of clever lyrics on the radio of late. this belle and sebastian song from their latest album "dear catastrophe waitress" had me doing spit-takes in my car even though i had no beverage in my mouth.

i wish you could hear the music that goes along with, since its tinkly, tongue-in-cheek frothiness really adds to the fun, but i think you can enjoy the corporate innuendo a la carte. (even if a-boy does think posting lyrics is duck.)

step into my office, baby

"she called me up today
meet me down at the old cafe
i jumped into the shower
i was getting my marching orders

we need to talk
step into my office, baby
i want to give you the job
a chance of overtime
say, my place at 9?

she gave me some dictation
but my strength is administration
i took down all she said
i took down her little red dress

we need to talk
step into my office, baby
i'm going to give you the job
i'm pushing for a raise
i've been pushing now for days

i'm a slave to my work
i'm only living when i walk among the office staff
and catch up with the office wag
i'll be in bed by nine
my curtains drawn
my thoughts composed
i get to work on time

she'd never stand for any lies
she's got an "out tray" full of guys
i could sense a breath, a whole new feeling
now she says she wants to call a meeting

i've got to change my ways
dress for business every day
a smart suit and a kipper tie
a big arrow pointing to my fly

we need to talk
step into my office, baby
i want to give you the job
a chance of better pay
can you start today?

my outpost is in decline
i was burned out after thatcher
my banner i lay down with a sigh
now i doubt i'll ever catch her"

<----        ---->

take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:

health tip

health tip

moving house

quibbling with quitherfeather

catcher in the wry