I thought I had spotted and tracked yak (or quite possibly a llama) while we were exploring the Yosemite National Park this weekend. However, I was told that the beast was actually a deer. Luckily, the mounty stopped me just before I was about to deal the final blow. Apparently, one can only club baby seals. One is not to ever club yaks, llamas, poodles or deer for any reason at any time. Well, you learn something new every day — and my weekend at Yosemite was no exception!
And, one should only remove the pelt of a baby seal after it has been club’d to death. And, one should never attempt to remove the pelt of a live yak at no time. I guess it is considered even worse if the live yak turns out to be a living deer. It upsets park rangers and children alike. The mounty explained this to me as B paid him $500 to avoid my being shackled to a tree and beaten by a mob of angry tourists. That would not have been much fun.
…please do not feed, club or skin the yaks! It’s the law!
I also learned that, should an angry bear appear and attempt to attack/eat you, all that need be done is to take an ordinary stove top pot and a frying pan, bang them together — and the horrific monster of an animal will run away from you for dear life. Who knew? Tho, this is useless information for him now — it would have been nice if that dude from GRIZZLY MAN had known this. I mean, he could have prevented that bear from eating both himself and his girlfriend. Sigh. So it goes.
I did see The Blair Witch. No matter how hard one tries, sometimes you just can’t reach other people. I was unable to convince anyone else that the lady serving us behind the salad bar at the lodge was THE evil spirit better known in the Washington State Mountains, but she was! And, she seemed hellbent on stealing and eating Yosemite National Park children! But, I know what I know. I did my best to warn those around me. What more can a boy do?!?!?
I also noted how alarmingly similar some Yosemite trees are to human genitalia. I saw a pussy tree and a penis stick. And, much to the amusement of a Boy Scout team, B discovered a tit bush. A rather large tit bush I might add. Interestingly, these were all located along the lower Yosemite Falls trail. B did not see any mountain lions, but he did spot a large man seated behind an odd tree reading a big book.
We saw a couple of men climbing what appeared to be a large rock but I am fairly certain it was just a grizzles mountain with a waterfall. B explained to me that all mountains are really just rocks. I can hardly imagine Julie Andrews running about singing about that baby coming to life with the sound of music, but what do I know of mountains and wayward nuns? However, from what I was able to gather from B and The Blair Witch, the earth is actually just a big rock — third one from the sun, in fact. But, B’s brother pulled me aside and confirmed what I’d always suspected. You got it. The earth is actually a soft puff ball on the flea of a giant dog on Planet Nuko. I knew it all along. A, B’s bro, asked me to keep this between just he and I but I feel the need to share this knowledge with you.
Oh, and I learned that when one is in full admiration of the majestic surroundings of Yosemite National Park it will not please everyone if you strip off your clothes and dance about your ode to nature. Apparently, going nude at Yosemite is not considered cool and gets you a ticket from which no amount of bribe offers or sexual favors will gain release. I learned this the hard way. I hope this helps those of you who might be so inspired. I also learned another valuable lesson: sometimes the beauty of nature will seem to create a feeling of warmth and goose bumps. Well, my friends, sometimes that feeling is just gas. And, well — you guessed it. This mistake in understanding your emotions will generate a hefty fine and a series in stern lectures from park rangers and your boyfriend. However, I do feel that there needs to be a serious review of the rather prudish sex and hunting laws of the park.
Anyway, Yosemite is pretty. Just don’t go clubbing the yaks, bothering The Blair Witch when she is busy entrancing children at the salad bar, or dance about naked. Mind these suggestions and you might have a good time. …And learn a few things along the way! Oh, and watch out for that tourist with the thick Bavarian accent. She is trouble with a capital “T” — I refuse to go into detail but let’s just say that her sense of fun borders on the obscene and I, for one, was shocked!
It’s good to be back home!
CUDDLE UP or MATTY’S ILLNESS
OK. I am coming clean. I’ve recently discovered that I am — well, it’s hard to articulate. OK. (taking a deep breath and holding on to the sides of the wooden cube upon which my iBook rests) —
My name is Matty and I’m addicted to the Captain & Tennille. (coughs) Thanks. Wow. You really clapped for that. Gee. Well, I guess I should be more clear about my sickness.
Specifically, I am addicted to their first two LP’s (now all re-master’d to CD) and their ill-fated one season long ABC Television Series, THE CAPTAIN & TENNILLE which aired from 1976 to 1977. …It came out on DVD this past Christmas and I secretly purchased the 3 DVD disc set. Wow. I feel so much better sharing this with you all. I feel like a big rock has been lifted from my shoulders.
Yes, I think Tennille had an awesome voice too. No, I don’t care for her Broadway and Big Band stuff so much. I prefer the fun Neil Sedaka/Beach Boys 70’s vegetarian fare. I mean, how can you not sing along!?!? They were cool and had a lot more hits than Sonny & Cher! Oh, yes! I agree! I mean, they are still together! Love kept them that way! I know!
The Captain was kind of hot. …if he kept that hat on — well, I don’t want to be too rude too soon at my first meeting. I am spoken for to a really hot guy. But, yeah. The Captain. I’d have done him.
Oh, yeah! “Muskrat Love” is a classic. It is not a guilty pleasure. Wait. It is? Well, color me guilty, Mister!
I guess it all started when I first heard them as an 8 year old kid. I had a poster, but my mom used it to explain how men and women fucked and that sort of ruined it for me. I took it down.
I know. But, you have to understand that being told to imagine The Captain getting Tennille all moist and ready was jut to much for an 8 year old to take.
No, I don’t think that is why I am gay. I had the hots for the Captain back then. However, I was more keen on both Andy Gibb and John Travolta. But Kris Kristofferson was responsible for my first erection. And, of course, Robin Williams for my first ejaculation. But, you guys probably read all about that in my blog a while back.
What? Oh. Yeah. This is an anonymous support group.
Anyway, I can’t seem to get enough of their music or bad TV show. It isn’t so bad except I think the lady who was sitting next to me on MUNI this morning was annoyed by the happy sounds she could hear coming from my iPod headset. Yeah, me too. I play them loud. And, my boyfriend is really not enjoying the fact that I’ve sort of forced him to sit thru 7 of the 12 episodes of the show. No, I don’t think he realizes about the third disc filled with extras.
Maybe I should turn back to weed and downers. No, you’re right. For now, it is OK. I’ve admitted the problem. I’ve declared it. Anyone want to dance to “Shop Around” ????? Really? Cool!
Sock hop! OK. You’re right. We don’t want to enable. Well, thanks for the space to share. Do we really have to do that? I mean, join hands and say an affirmation. Seems a bit cultish. No, it’s cool. OK. Um, is that supposed to be there? Oh, I see. Can you wash your hands? What? Never mind. Take my hand. We’re on this road together. Amen!
WHAT IS OLD JOY?
In the new film from Kelly Reichardt, two men seem to be trying to re-connect as old pals on a rather sad camping trip. The two old friends are played with quiet hurt by Daniel London and Bonnie Prince Billy (aka Will Oldham) An oddly unsettling film which is haunting me. At the film’s climax — one of the men tells of a dream in which a woman comforts him by explaining that sorrow is nothing but worn out joy.
There have been several American films this year that have been about characters in desperate need to connect to others. The simplicity of this film touched me and seemed to be unique to an American issue. Living in a culture that teaches us that we are promised so much but which ends up actually offering so little unless you are the right color or have been born into the right amount of money.
…the final realization that the American Dream was never anything more than just that and the sad realization that many fail to grasp the real purpose of life. Is that purpose to connect? And, if worn out joy is sorrow — what is old joy?
OF KILLING RATS, DOWN SYNDROME’D THESPIANS & ART @ THE CASTRO THEATRE
The fine art of killing rats, burns, the torture of snails, the oppressive nature of Shirley Temple and the fact that one thing is not like another all came together last night when Ing treated me and B to an incredible evening at San Francisco’s Castro Theatre. After a lovely serenade from the historic organ we were treated to an indepth slide show and reading from the Infamous Crispin Glover. He read from the books he “wrote” back in the 80’s and early 90’s — he read from 8 of these books, I believe. It was quite funny and absurd. The best part of the reading was from his most famous book — the one about rat killing. A real movie star despite what he might want us to believe — Mr. Glover filled the tiny stage in front of the huge screen at The Castro and held a sold out audience at full attention as he read. I think all three of us agreed that Crispin Glover is quite hot. However, I think all three of us might view his hotness in different ways. I see him as a rather dapper kink-meister of some potential. I believe Ing sees him as handsome and I think B sees him as quite hot. As he is straight, Ing is the only one of the three who had a shot. She was on a dare last night to ask Mr. Glover for a date. Sadly, a quick Internet search revealed that he is engaged to a surprisingly Hollywood startlett-ie type actress. But, she had composed a really cool little note which she intended to hand to Mr. Glover. Something held Ing back from doing this. I am not sure what. However, it could have something to do with the film he has devoted five years of his life to creating.
The film is called WHAT IS IT? and we saw it in all of its glory followed by a VERY lengthy question/answer session after the screening. Humble, intelligent and open — Crispin Glover patiently answered a number of lame questions about whether or not he felt his film exploited his actors (most of whom are Down Syndrome adults) — I write “lame” because if one actually watches the film it is impossible to miss the fact that he is not exploiting his actors at all. If anything, he may be the first filmmaker to actually treat the topic of “special people” with something that has been seriously lacking: reality. They are people. In Glover’s film they are acting in a surreal world of oppression and fascism but they are given the opportunity to function as adults with human feelings. No goose bumps or silly line readings about needing hugs, cookies and giggles. No, kids — this isn’t an ABC 1970’s After-School Special or a spoof of one. This is a true art film inspired by the likes of Werner Herzog, Fassbinder and Bunuel. It was an amazing film intent on making the audience uncomfortable and a bit disoriented. My only criticism is the use of music by The Charles Manson Family and the cruel depiction of snail killing. I would have liked the film to better represent why this was being done so much. I’m not a lazy thinker but I did find some of the symbology a bit muddy and confused.
Anyway, it crossed my mind that Ing might not want to date someone who would create such nightmarish worlds. So, she didn’t act on the dare. She showed us the note. I loved it. And, if she had given it to him, I am certain he would have contacted her. I asked her if I could have it so that I might share some of it with the few people who read my bit of space. She gave it to me. Now, some hours later, I don’t think I want to share it with you. It seems too private. So, I have scanned the outside of it and it now lives safely in my memory box. A box which brims over with things from my past that matter to me. Ing matters to me and I love the little note she wrote to Crispin Glover.
TROUBLE AT THE DISCO DESK…
Now, I encounter a wide variety of people in my job. Actually, that is not true. I encounter a lot of gay men in my job. Most of them are hot and wealthy. I also encounter a number of really incredible looking women. Above all, the people I meet are fun and interesting. And, the people for whom I work are fun. And, everyone is gorgeous. I love my job! I don’t always feel like I fit in, but I love it.
Anyway, it is sort of a perfect little place where things smell good and the music never stops. I should know. It is part of my job to keep the music playing. However, sometimes things happen that rattle the hearts and souls of those of us operating in the glittery world of disco and medicine. It is a serious science, but it is made fun. And, it is art in many ways. Today, tho, a lost soul wandered into our lair and it was a bit worrying.
Today someone banged on our lobby door. Odd, that. The door is unlocked and is glass. I saw a disgruntled-looking lady. She was wearing a dirty pants suit. Vintage. I am guessing from circa 1977. Our eyes met. She kicked the door again. Yes, she kicked the door because her hands were otherwise occupied. She was wearing those ugly orange kitchen cleaning gloves. In one hand she held a soiled brown bag that was from “Sam’s Happy DoNuts!” (note: I’ve changed the name of the do-nut shop to protect the innocent) — but, the really strange thing was what was in her other orange-gloved hand. Yes, in that other hand she held a clear plastic bag containing a stool specimen. I imagine that the specimen was her own. You see, there is a gasto-intestinal medical office on our floor.
I took a deep breath and walked to the door. I opened it. She smelled sort of like beer nuts. The following exchange took place:
“May I help you?”
“Yerrrr muuuzic is too loud”
“I’ve got freeee fillings that need to be feeeeeled today. I wont ’em done now” (I should mention that she had no front teeth)
“Um, no. We do not accept walk-in patients”
a beat of a pause — and then loudly and with slow and strong emphasis on each word
“WE DO NOT ACCEPT PATIENTS WITHOUT APPOINTMENT. WE ARE UNABLE TO HELP YOU.”
She shrugged. Moved her do-nut bag into the same hand as her stool specimen and limped away. I shuddered and returned to the safety of Goldfrapp and my pretty desk.
…donuts, disco and shit. Sometimes it all comes together. Luckily, no one noticed. Only one person noticed the sound of the banging. I took care of it. I’m no hero. It’s just my job.
THE DINNER CLUB
…The Sequel That Must Happen!
I’ve been thinking about this long and hard. I feel it is time to share the idea/concept with 80’s Cinematic Wonder, John Hughes. However, I’ve no way of actually contacting him. So, I feel it best to share with you, my dear friends! So, we all know that they met just once but it changed their lives forever. …and it gave pop culture The Brat Pack! Well, the Brat Pack kids are all pushing 40 and are in dire need of work. So, in addition to providing us with possible entertainment we would be putting Ally, Judd, Emilio, Michael and Molly back to work on the big screen. Yes, kids. I propose a sequel to THE BREAKFAST CLUB. It’s been almost 22 years.
The time has come.
I present my suggestion in the form of a pseudo-outline-outline. Certainly there is room for tweaking and improvements. And, we have to remember — this film will be aimed at the 34 to 44 year old demographic that made this film a hit back in the day. Further, I suggest we search thru the discarded tracks of Simple Minds circa 1983 and pick one to be the theme song. Or, maybe have Mary J. Blige and Missy E do a new cover of the old “Don’t You Forget About Me Song” —- but, I’m getting ahead of myself. Here is my outline for THE DINNER CLUB — yes, they are meeting once more — 23 years later!!!
Andy has been serving as the coach at Shermer high school. He is still kind of hot, but carries a bit more weight than one expect. Principal Vernon has died — which makes it easier since the actor who originally played him died last year. Anyway, this serves as the catalyst to get everyone together for dinner. As it turns out Claire has stayed quite close to Allison (who has become a top Chicago lawyer and remains pals with Andy and his wife!) …But, Claire moved away to Connecticut when she was accepted to Yale University. She married her lit professor and the marriage has just ended in a very ugly divorce. Allison wants to comfort poor Claire. However, Claire becomes interested in the reunion when she finds out that Andy was able to locate Brian (a very successful computer programmer in California) — and Brian (of all people!) has stayed in touch with John Bender!!! And, John, has agreed to meet up with everyone for dinner the night before Principal Vernon’s funeral. The goal — to compose a note for Vernon that one of the Breakfast Club will leave in his casket. Claire immediately hopes to rekindle the romance with John that never was!
Everyone but Brian and John arrive at the expensive restaurant first. Much catching up and surprisingly little has changed. Essentially this will be The Breakfast Club at forty. Claire, Andy and Allison all discuss just how gay Brian must be by now. Andy whispers that he sounds really “faggy” on the phone but is totally loaded! Much teasing to Allison who is quite wealthy herself but still hopelessly single. …Sadly, we discover she just bought a cat. The cat’s name is Oliver. Turns out Andy still wants to poke her. …And, he will mid-way thru the film but both will agree it is a one time thing. This will be dealt with during the group therapy scene and it will sort of make you want to cry but not before Brian makes you (and the rest of the cast) laugh.
Claire no longer speaks to her family and is contemplating plastic surgery. Her husband left her for a hot young student.…just like she used to be. To make herself feel better, Claire dresses like a real slut. As it turns out there was a bit of a pudgy girl in there after all. This will all be addressed during the mandatory group therapy scene. She will cry and kick someone. John is the most likely target. Allison tells Andy of Claire’s desire to get it on with John. Turns out John has done quite well for himself in Arizona where he started his own landscaping business. John? Who knew?
John and Brian arrive. Brian, no longer the geek, is handsome, thin and in-shape. He is married with 4 children. There is a great deal of build up regarding John and Claire but we soon discover that John is in a very happy 12 year relationship. …with another man. Brian lets this cat out of the bag. Claire is crushed. But, all takes a turn for the comic and edgy ways of the original film when John breaks out a bag of Tina — and the whole crew does a bit of meth.
Like the magic weed of 1985 — the meth gives our team incredible powers which lead to dancing thru the stuffy restaurant, highjinx in the kitchen and Andy manages to break all the wine glasses at the bar when he lets out a drug induced cry that he loves everyone. In a moment of confusion John and Claire make out. John reveals he still has the earring she gave him years back. But, it is no use. John is queer and married to Billy back in Arizona. Claire and Allison began to sing “Johnny, Are You Queer?” to Mr. Bender who blushes but enjoys the attention. Group therapy soon comes up with everyone confessing their darkest fears and secrets. But, all ends well. Demi Moore and Rob Lowe show up in cameos as wait staff. The film ends with Brian reading the note which Bender and Claire have slipped into Vernon’s lapel while the rest wait in the funeral home parking lot.
I don’t know about you all, but I think this has hit written all over it! Come on! Let’s bring The Brat Pack back!!!!
…maybe Goldfrapp can re-record “Don’t You Forget About Me” for the film. Hmmmmm…
John Hughes? Can you hear me?????
…DON’T LOOK NOW
It is interesting — the things we survive as we make our way through life. In fact, it is a bit amazing. It seems that some of the most horrific, difficult and unimaginable might leave some residue on our souls — cause a bit of damage. Harm. Scars.
And yet, there is a certain strength to be gained for getting through these horrors of life. Horrors normally caused by another soul who was already damaged in some hideous way. Or, souls.
That old cliche of a saying — what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
It is also of interest that it can be a rather minor or simple act which can make all the difference. Rather, that can potentially break us. It doesn’t always have to be inflicted out of malice or be all that horrible from a safe distance. It can be an accident or even some self-infliction we may not even realize we have caused.
So, we travel our lives never knowing what might come next. Or, how what is headed in our path might end up impacting the journeys or our souls.
It is interesting what we can survive and what can destroy us. To go through so much and then to simply slip on a slick bump in the pavement — and not survive that little fall. It is interesting.
…And, it is quite sad.
I am thinking of someone tonight. A brave soul who won so many battles, fought to survive through so much evil and then lost when a shoe didn’t quite fit. I think of this person and send love. I am sure this soul has taken flight to some other journey far more exciting than the one offered on this wave of existence.
Maybe it isn’t quite so sad after all. Maybe it is just the way of things. The way of life.
The day should have been a good one. The office was closed. He only had to go in for a few hours. He was able to sleep later than usual for a Friday morning. And, he slept next to the amazing man with whom he was starting a life. As he left the apartment he was expecting to find an extra bit of energy in his step, but as he stepped out into the cool morning he found his step sluggish. True, he knew he might be catching that bug that had been nagging at several people in his life but he knew he could rise above that.
As he sat at the office running through the few chores which needed to be done before his half day ended he found his patience with the customers wearing thin. Being alone in the office should have been fun. He had his music blaring and sat at the PC which he preferred to his own. Yet, nothing felt right.
His stomach felt so empty. He had forgotten to eat breakfast. He took a break from his break and walked over to the diner down the block. He ordered a cheese omelet and a Diet Coke. He ate it and returned to the empty office and pushed on through the work. He was sluggish and tired.
He was thankful for so much. His life was finally taking form again. He is in love. He continue to have profound friendships that bring life such meaning. His finances are not good but they are getting better. As the half day came to a close he thought of what he might do as he killed the time between then and when his love came home. He could go to the piers, have a pretzel, listen to the water and watch the tourists milling about. Or, he could try to take in a movie. He could window shop. He could go home and read.
As he locked the office door he realized he didn’t feel so great. Not so much sick as just tired. He took the long way home with iPod on low. He had half a slice of pizza and read some of the NY Times which only bummed him out more. The city was covered in that sort of haze that comes to San Francisco before rainy season starts. Not exactly cold but not at all warm. Not going to rain but certainly not going to sun — this wasn’t so much fog as a dreary day wanting for rain but not getting any.
He came home. Cleaned the kitchen. Organized his papers which had been sitting in a neat stack since he moved in. He listened to Bonnie Prince Billy which seemed to fit the mood of the day. His audio costume for the day.
He wanted a cigarette but managed to fight the urge. He sat on the fire escape and started counting the moments till his love would come home. He was longing to touch his lover’s lips with his own. He knew that this would not turn this unexpected bummer of a day around. However, he did know that it would make all the difference.
Like the annoying little girl in the curly red wig sang, the sun will come out tomorrow. It’s cool, but a bit cold at the moment. As he looked at the neighbor’s suspicious Buddha below he thought of the pictures his mother drew last summer and mailed to him in a somewhat random fashion. They would arrive in an envelope with post notes saying things like, “Love you. Mom” or “Just thinking of you. Mom” —- He loved these pictures. None of them made much sense but he enjoyed the odd formation of communication from his mother which has since stopped.
And, for the first time all day, he smiled.
Just forty-five more minutes till his love comes home. He can’t wait but he knew he would have to anyway.
AMY SEDARIS LIKES ME!
It is always fun when a friend offers you a housewarming gift. Ing gave me one of the nicest I’ve ever received when she presented B & me with the awe-inspiring antlers. …So cool. So decadent. So very Goldfrapp. Anyway, imagine my surprise when she presented us with a SECOND gift — the new coffee table book of receipes (sp????), party hosting tips and arts-n-crafts by Amy Sedaris!!! Yay! It opens with three letters in which the reader must insert his/her name. I inserted mine and discovered that Ms. Sedaris likes me. I mean, she really likes me. I’ve read some of the book to B, who hasn’t been feeling well. We’re getting many laughs and learning quite a lot from Amy. Essentially, this book is designed to bring back the seemingly lost art of entertaining friends and allowing friends to entertain you. As Sedaris notes, her methods may not be traditional, expected or even legal — but they work!! It is filled with yummy looking foods and ideas. I highly recommend it! And, the pictures are great! My fave shot is of Amy posed elegantly as if stuck in the year 1960 — with a bong in her hand. Pure magic! And, the brownies look really good. She also offers tips for choosing the appropriate hair cut to fit your head and neck as well as well planned creative ideas for panty hose. I think Amy Sedaris may have a small fetish for panty hose and I’m not sure I understand her self-designed tampons but this is a must have book!
Last night was the US premiere of the Korean horror film, THE HOST, at the San Francisco MOMA. B got us, Ing and Alan tickets! So we all met at the SF MOMA, had some goodies at their cafe and made our way to the sold out showing. After sitting thru a somewhat dull slide show presentation by the special effects team which is based here in SF — the film was screened. Like most (if not all) Korean films it was about 30 minutes too long but it was also filled with humor, interesting moments and much fun horror! This was played as a part of the SF Animation Festival. We were all a bit thrown off by the idea that the computer generated creature really made the film animated — but it was much fun. Ing screamed more than a few times. B and Alan both jumped out of their skins a couple of times. I was just very much amused. This was quite a departure from the last film I saw by Bong Joon-ho. That was MEMORIES OF MURDER which followed the true story of Korea’s first recorded serial killer. It was both disturbing and funny. I was thinking that it was an old film but I just realized that I am totally stupid and that it came out in 2002 or something. Oh well. If you get a chance to see THE HOST — I say — see it! Creepy stuff — and lots of fun! …sort of like the new book by Amy Sedaris.
Watch the Korean preview!
It is no secret that I dream of living in the UK — as a matter of fact, I dream of simply visiting it. I’ve a feeling I will feel instantly at home there. Of course, I come from a long line of British white trash on both sides. I believe that my father’s family name was “Stansfield” at some point and the “s” was drop’d upon the move to The States — Texas. My mom’s family name was “Seaman” …go ahead. You can laugh. I do. Anyway, that name is so classic it was kept and my mother’s brother and his male children were ridiculed for years because of that name. Anyway, they took the name to Louisiana. But, by the time my parents met England was longggggg gone from our culture. However, the white trash aspect remained.
But, aside from everything I love about the UK — I really love the comedy. I love Brit-coms! AbFab and League of Gentleman were the best thing to happen to TV since Mary Tyler Moore and Mary Hartman Mary Hartman. And, a couple of years ago we were given Nighty Night!
Thank goodness for my region free DVD! …Tho, I am sure it will be a good six months before I can see it. Sadness.
BUT, I am sooooooo very jealous right now because something very exciting will be airing on the BBC next week. Yes, Julia “Jill” Davis and Mark “Glen” Gatiss are staring in a TV film of the life of Fanny Craddock and her hubby, Johnnie!!! The name of the film is FEAR OF FANNY!!!! It promises to be so very funny and sick. I mean, these two actors know no limits when it comes to a laugh. Fanny Craddock was very scary and rather surreal. She is long dead but still makes Martha Stewart look sweet.
She terrorized her husband and taught the UK to dye all food and to create the ugliest gastronomical creations possible. I wonder how many families had to deal with her culinary horrors as their moms thought they were being fancy. Anyway, if you’ve seen NIGHTY NIGHT or HUMAN REMAINS — I am sure you can imagine how great this film promises to be!
I hope those of you in the UK will update me on how magical the film is!!! I am most jealous!!! I wanna be in England. …for TV shows. I wish I could tell you it was for something more important but Goldfrapp is there, too. So, it wouldn’t just be for TV and I would never adapt a silly faux accent like Madonna.