Rhymes With "Stevening"...

I don't know if I'm going through a thing, or whatever, but I'm having a hard time liking the movies lately. Maybe it's because I impulsively reordered the old Netflix queue after the Boy took off for Panama last week, determined to devour as many cheesy romantic comedies that I could stomach before it's back to a rotating selection of the entire Die Hard cycle and anything in any way remotely related to the life and career of Hunter S. Thompson. Not that there's anything wrong with either, but a little variety never killed anyone.

OR DID IT?

Because I'm pretty sure I was very close to near total self-destruction as caused by an acute case of estrogen overload the other night.

I won't even go into the particular film that was screened in the male-free zone that is currently my living room (hint: one word title, referring to a time of day, and not Morning, Afternoon, or Night.) But I will say that the result was an overwhelming desire to watch Bruce Willis and Johnny Depp get into a fist fight on drugs while things blow up in the background.

Along similar lines (similar in that it's movie-related and that's about it) I found this pretty hilarious and (I think) spot-on Oscar preview over at N+1, a literary magazine I would enjoy a lot more if I could ever find it anywhere other than the web.

I realize it's a little late for a preview of something that happened almost a week ago, but bear with me. Maybe tomorrow I'll give you a list of Grammy predictions...I hear Amy Winehouse will be performing via SATELLITE!