It’s Christmas time. You’ve probably watched some Christmas movies already, and will probably watch some more before the season’s warm and fuzzy feelings ebb away on December 26 and we’re all forced to confront the reality that Donald Trump will soon control the world. Since this may all be our last Christmas, you don’t want to waste your time watching lousy Christmas movies; but if there is one genre of film that has a disproportionate number of stinkers, it’s holiday movies. People are too willing overlook crappy acting and nonsensical plots just because somebody slapped the words “Christmas”, “Holiday”, “Jingle”, “Bells”, or “Die Hard” into the title. So I’m here with my definitive review of Christmas movies to watch/avoid this holiday season, alphabetical order.
You’re welcome. Continue reading “Definitive Christmas Movie Reviews”
“Enjoy” this rare, raw audio from the lost radio serial, The Adventures of March Brown.
And keep your gear clean, or I will do this again.
You may not have heard, but New Zealand mud snails have been discovered in Badger Mill Creek, a tributary to the upper Sugar River, both of which are class II trout streams in Dane County. You may not have heard that because the DNR hasn’t made an official announcement yet, despite having circulated the information among local conservation groups at the beginning of November. Their press release guy has been on vacation, I assume.
Continue reading “Clean Your Goddamned Gear”
Aaaand now for something completely different.
They sat at a table for two, set out on the cobblestones underneath a canvas awning. It was morning and still cold. She wrapped a blanket around her legs and waist, but he kept the blanket on the back of his chair as he sipped coffee. The sun appeared above the ancient church steeple and lit the stone statue in the old town square. People began to move about, opening shops, buying and selling goods, disappearing around the many corners between buildings.
He watched as a woman crossed the square, past the town hall and toward the old building with the stone bell at its corner. She wore a long, brown wool coat, a red scarf wrapped up to her nose. Single strands of blone hair stuck to the red fibers of the scarf. She walked loudly, her boots clicking against cobblestone, brought to an echo in the quiet hour. She never looked anywhere but straight ahead, head down, moving briskly until she disappeared in the alley beyond the stone bell.
The woman across from him set the coffee cup in her lap.
“Do you think she is pretty?” she asked.
“No,” he responded. He never took her eyes off her. Continue reading “Dime Store Novel Hour: The Old Town”