Sidebar Update

Let's dive right in!

This week's Object of My Affection: Bonnie Hunt. Pixar loves her (A Bug's Life, Monsters, Inc., Cars), and hell, that's almost reason enough to love her too, just right there. Also: she's so damn funny it's not even funny. Wait, that makes no sense. Strike that last part. Also: she's cute as a button. A BUTTON I TELL YOU. Her performance on Celebrity Poker Showdown, of all things, was about the most adorable thing I've ever seen. Hope she gets back on TV real soon.

Finished Stephen King's Cell (verdict: eh), and I'm now on to Terry Pratchett's Thud!, another book I previously featured on the sidebar as a coming attraction while I was reading Jonathan Strange. I was going to put Scott Pilgrim and the Infinite Sadness up there, but I finished reading it before I finished updating the sidebar. Next!

I rented Days of Wine and Roses, a Jack Lemmon classic I've somehow never gotten around to seeing, from Blockbuster a week ago, and I've been trying to watch it ever since. But stuff keeps happening. I'm really, really going to watch it tomorrow, this time for sure. So don't anybody bother me tomorrow! Unless I decide to go see X-Men 3 instead.

Listening to Cake's Fashion Nugget. It's a pretty damn decent album, isn't it? I've only relatively recently really gotten into this group, so I'm, what, a decade behind the curve? Hey, for me, that's cutting edge.

God, I hate Barry Bonds so very very much. He's a dick, and he's a blatant steroid case. Don't even try to defend him; he took the 'roids, and he knew he was taking the 'roids, whatever lies he may try to feed the press. He knew, and didn't care, because he's a cheater and an asshole. Then again, so are half the players in baseball, but we're not talking about them. We're talking about Barry. He's a douche, and now this douche has more home runs than Babe Ruth. Hate, hate, hate him so much. Hate.

But that doesn't mean my hate is all used up! Bonus hate goes to Pat Robertson. Again. He's been claiming this week that he once lifted 2,000 pounds with his legs. That's a ton, okay? Pat Robertson says he lifted A FUCKING TON with his legs in 2003, when he was 73 years old. Barry Bonds can't lift a ton with his legs, and he's been soaking in steroids for the past decade. It is yet another in a seemingly endless series of Robertson's insane, attention-grabbing idiocies -- this time, as a promotion for his protein shake, which is as bogus as everything else having to do with him. Pat Robertson is a liar and a crook and a vile excuse for a human being. But seriously, Tom, tell us how you really feel!

Lyric of the Week comes from Bad Religion's "The Defense," which is off their album, The Process of Belief. This album grew on me very quickly; lots of outstanding stuff on here. I used the whole chorus for the sidebar, but the part that I really love is, "Ain't it beautiful to be alive?" followed by the response, "Yeah, right!" Gosh, you're so cynical, Bad Religion!

Looks like that's it for now. I'll try to get to some backlogged reviews tomorrow, for Scott Pilgrim, M:I:III (or, as Stephen Colbert called it, "Miiiiiiih"), various season finales on TV, and, oh, everything. I'll try, but as always, I guarantee nothing.