Calling all Leaguers!

Melbotis (Mel-boh-dis) Perkins is a 116 lb. golden retriever dedicated to Truth, Justice and the American Way.

The League of Melbotis welcomes all likeminded individuals willing to use their unique abilities for the betterment of mankind.

Comics, superheroes, giant robots, doggies, space ships, movies, personal journal, schadenfreude.

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    The League Totally $@%*ing Sells Out!

    Are You HOT or NOT?

    Friday, October 29, 2004  
    And a week that came in with Ashlee Simpson shall go out the same way...

    Check out this photoshop contest.

    thanks to Jim D. for bookending my week!

    6:48 PM |

    Our grand Prize Winner: Madalina Hinjosa, for telling a story both frightening and stomach churning

    Halloween Spooky Stories: DAY 5, PART 2

    by Madi

    The Taco Bell Tolls For Thee

    At first glance, there's nothing Halloweenish about this story- it's
    set in Hawaii on a beautiful summer's evening. But my magical evening would be turned upside down in an instant of pure horror.

    Before I went to Hawaii, I was told of the abundant delicious food I would sample everywhere I went. My mouth watered imagining fresh mangos, pineapple and coconuts. However, when I arrived I found that everything is hella expensive in Hawaii. Since I preferred to spend my money on souvenirs, I carefully rationed out grocery store fare and starved my way through the days. (I have to confess, I did toss a couple of baloney slices off the balcony to feed the feral cats that lived at the hotel). No worries, though; I was in Hawaii after all.

    One night, I picked up a plate of nachos at a Mexican fast-food restaurant
    on the island. I only ate a little, since they weren't very good.

    Nevertheless I was unwilling to throw a morsel away. I put the leftovers in the trunk of the rental car so that I could get back to the shops nacho-free.

    Later that evening, I opened the trunk and picked up the container AND COCKROACHES CAME POURING OUT!

    7:38 AM |


    For more great vintage Halloween cards, check out this story at RetroCrush.

    6:54 AM |

    DAY 5

    Editor's Note: Jason (The League's older and less handsome brother)sent in two entries. The first one is posted last, the second one is posted first is descending scariness.

    First Stories

    My current home in south Austin once belonged to an elderly lady who bestowed it upon her grandaughter in her will. When I was closing on the house at my realtor's office, we had a quiet moment during which I attempted to make some small talk with the woman selling the house.
    "So, is there anything I should know about the house that no one's told me?"
    I was kind of thinking of plumbing problems or faulty electrical work.
    "Well, it's haunted."
    "Uh, what?"
    "My grandmother used to live there and she died in that house. She's a friendly ghost, but she likes to open and close things and make noises. We're trying to take her with us when we move, but we're not sure she'll go."
    "Oh, it's ok. She'll leave you alone as long as there are good vibes in the house."
    I've been there almost a year and a half, and so far, no sign of Grandma. Friendly ghost or not, I think I'm kind of glad. Still, I try to keep things positive at mi casa in order to avoid hassles from Grannie.

    I had more problems at my last place. To my knowledge, my apartment at the edge of Travis Heights had never suffered the death of a resident or any other calamity, but as with most apartments, the place had an anonymous history that could seem a little creepy in its own right. Especially because weird stuff would happen there.
    On at least 3 occasions, as I was lying in bed and trying to get to sleep, I would swear I heard my name spoken aloud, not in a shout or a whisper, but in a quiet speaking voice. The first two times this happened, I lept out of bed and ran around the apartment with my lacrosse stick in my hand, turning on all the lights. No one was ever there.
    The third time this happened, I just pulled my pillow up over my head and tried to get to sleep. I was roused from bed a few minutes later by the sound of Calvin and Hobbes, my 2 pet ferrets, going crazy in their cage. I crept into the other room, and something big and black swooped down at my head. I screamed like a little girl, and grabbing a wine bottle, turned on the kitchen lights.
    In the vaulted upper corner of my living room, a large black grackle sat perched on a picture frame and staring down at me with it's little black eyes. It screeched and I screamed again.
    I opened the front and the patio doors, and it cirlcled the room a few times, screeching some more and flapping before flying out.
    I checked the fireplace, but the flue was closed and the firescreen shut. To this day, I have never figured out the deal with the voice or the bird. Tripped my gourd, though, let me assure you.

    Second Story

    Hey. I know some scary stories. Remember that time we were watching The Exorcist at like 3 a.m. and it was thundering and lightning outside and you went to look out the window because you thought you heard a noise and you saw your own reflection and you screamed like a little girl and you stumbled backward over Mom's lamp? Oh wait. That's more of a funny story.

    How about the time you emailed me a photo of your ass? That was scary.

    In all seriousness, I do have one. Eric, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Mono Ensemble, has a harrowing tale passed on by his wife, Stephanie. One rainy night in Austin, Stephanie woke from sleep believing that she had heard some kind of strange noise in their kitchen. She tried to wake Eric, to no avail, and she went to investigate herself. Finding nothing in the kitchen, she assumed that one of their pet cats had made the commotion and she went to the refrigerator to get herself a drink. Standing in the dark, the only light in the room cast by the light of the ice box, she heard a noise and turned to see a young, pale boy with hollow eyes and a white shirt standing by her counter. She screamed and turned to look as Eric came running into the kichen to see what was the matter. The kid was no longer there and Eric was left standing in the kitchen looking on, bewildered.

    Stephanie learned the next day that a teenage kid who ran with some of their family friends had OD'ed the night before and died after breaking into a veterinary clinic to steal tranquilizers. The kid had died in his family's kitchen and had been wearing a white, button-down shirt.

    6:49 AM |

    Thursday, October 28, 2004  
    One more cheap shot at Ashlee Simpson!
    (courstesy of doug)

    The new Ashlee Simpson iPod!

    1:00 PM |

    A while back, Jim D threatened to send me a crate of comics in the mail. I had begged him not to send anything as League HQ is even now working out an emergency plan to liquidate old comics which we know we will never read again (anyone want a run of Uncanny X-men from issue 160 - 300?). But th nonetheless, the box arrived last evening, and is filled with interesting stuff. The comics he sent along are a fascinating assortment, and all very new, so I'm surprised he wanted to dump them so quickly.

    Most satisfying (and the only issue I had time to read) was that he'd sent along Astonishing X-Men in which Colossus returns.

    Leaguers, I fairly much quit reading X-Men when they killed Colossus about six years ago, and if it weren't for the acid-trip, pop insanity of Grant Morrison's New X-Men (which managed to feel more like speculative fiction/ sci-fi than the usual soapy melodrama of the X-titles), I'd have never have picked up another issue. Well, now my favorite Russian comic character is back, and I have the issue to prove it. But this is Marvel comics, so it's entirely possible that Colossus is a clone or an alien replicant or something. But, I'm giving Petey the benefit of the doubt.

    Anyway, thanks for mailing me what might have amounted to your garbage, old chum! You sent some great stuff along!

    And in the: You can't make anybody happy category, the new batsuit for the Christian Bale starring Batman Begins is now being ridiculed by Batfans everywhere.

    You know what, comic fans? Gray tights with blue underwear on the outside probably ISN'T the most effective crime fighting ensemble, so I'm not REALLY sure you're moaning about.

    Anyway, here's the suit.

    There are a lot of complaints that it's no better than the previous Batsuits, but I'm not sure there was really anything WRONG with the previous batsuits. Maybe the guys inside the suits, and the movies around the suit... and, sure... I'd have loved to have seen Batman in a gray body suit... but I also understand what looks good in comics might not look so good on film.

    Let the debate begin! And, no bat-nipple comments. THose were already well-covered by the comic nerds.

    7:13 AM |

    Halloween Spookiness with The League: Day 4

    by The League

    In 2000 or so I literally saw an unidentified flying object. The guy I was with also saw it, but we wrote it off as a weather balloon.

    But hauntings? Nah. Not really. When I was in second grade we thought a house which was for sale in the neighborhood was haunted. Back then, we would sneak into empty houses before they sold (yeah, even in Houston in Cypresswood back in the 80’s, not everyone locked every door), trudge around, and sneak out. We had rules about not doing any damage, and so we never got caught.

    And I don’t know if someone saw something, or we heard something or what… but we knew something was in there. A week later we learned that there was a raccoon in the house which attacked a realtor. Which is funny, but not scary. And we’re all lucky we didn’t wind up with rabies.

    After we moved from Houston to Austin, it was reported my dad (who was and is still alive) was appearing as an apparition in the kitchen of our former home. I’m a skeptic of this particular haunting. While we lived in that house, I don’t remember Dad ever appearing in the kitchen except to get a piece of cheese out of the fridge. No, if Dad was going to haunt something back then, it would have been the recliner. They would have seen a ghostly newspaper floating in the air, occasionally telling them to pipe down and clean up their Legos.

    After that, I don’t remember much in the way of ghosts popping up in my life. Justin L. told me his front room was haunted by the ghost of a lady who had died there. Apparently she used to run her hands over her jewelry in a porcelain dish beside her bed. At night, he said, you could hear the sound of metal on porcelain, clinking around in the front room.

    In college, like 3000 of my closest friends, I moved into Jester dormitory, the 14 story monstrosity designed by a former prison architect. Not long after moving in, I realized that Jester was/ is, in fact, alive. And it was trying to kill me.

    Anyone who lived in Jester knows that the building is enormous. Just my tower was 14 floors of more than 90 residents per floor. Not to mention classrooms, a cafeteria, a creepy basement, study lounges, piano lounges…. The building has stood for only a few decades, but I think, and this is my theory, but I think that so much STUFF happens in Jester, that all of that… stuff… leaves a sort of residue. The building has come to expect the overworked, overstressed, oversexed, sleep deprived, emotionally distended lives of 18-20 year olds for so long that… you know… when the building sits empty like it did over OU weekend, that being alone in a building you can hear breathing…

    Sounds would materialize and dissipate, occasionally you’d see someone you didn’t know pass by in the hallway and stick your head out and they’d be gone…. All easy enough to understand, I suppose.

    And at 4:00am, I wandered out into the elevator lobby, hearing a strange, persistent sound, metal on metal… the elevator doors standing ajar, the elevator a floor below, and when I stuck my head down the shaft to see what was going on, the elevator suddenly plummeted in free fall, the doors to the shaft closing almost upon my head.

    And then one night when everyone has left for Dallas for the big game or gone home, or has ditched for the weekend, you’re looking down the hallway, and you’re shouting “Is anyone else here?” because you think you hear music, but you can’t tell from where, but nobody answers. And there’s something in the hallway, and it’s already upon you, and it’s not that it’s creeping up on you, because now it’s surrounding you and seems to almost be giving off a tangible hum, and its density is growing, and…

    Danny isn’t here Mrs. Torrence…

    Aside from that, I don’t have any real ghost stories. I got attacked by the Creature from the Black Lagoon once, but that was more irritating than scary.

    7:05 AM |

    Wednesday, October 27, 2004  
    Halloween Entries, Day 3 Part B

    child produced by Jill Hermann-Wilmarth

    Arden gets pumped for Halloween. Check him OUT!!!! That kid is looking forward to a Tootsie Pop. Luckily, I believe he has no teeth to rot.

    8:46 PM |

    Haunted Tales of Halloween: Day 3

    by: Maxwell

    I generally try to avoid ghostly run-ins. I'm very
    committed to the idea of not seeing a ghost, but
    nonetheless I've had a few spooky experiences in my
    time. My roommate and I were convinced that our
    apartment in Austin was haunted even though we never
    saw anything substantial. Once in a while I might
    catch a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.
    We didn't mention it, but sometimes people who stayed
    with us picked up odd vibes. The apartment was
    relatively new, in one of those complexes with a pool
    over on Oltorf, not typical scary stuff, but for all
    we knew someone had died in the place. The worst of
    it was, no kidding, sitting and typing on my roommates
    computer, I always felt like someone was behind me,
    watching me. I cannot abide people reading over my
    shoulder, so the constant spine tingling, hair
    pricking at the back of my neck made it difficult to
    get any homework done. There was a closet in her
    room, and when you sat at the computer your back would
    be to the closet. It felt like someone was waiting,
    watching, always coming from the direction of the
    closet. I wrote a couple of creepy plays at that

    At the end of the day, we just tried to chalk that
    unnerving feeling up to bad feng shui.

    The only experience that I haven't been able to
    explain away happened in the house I grew up in, right
    in Cypresswood. Maybe all kids go through a time when
    they think they're houses are haunted. We thought so,
    even though our house was new. After Poltergeist
    came out we speculated that perhaps the house was
    built on a graveyard. In all honesty, there were
    times when I would be upstairs in the room furthest
    away from the stairs, and would feel the driving need
    to get out, run NOW NOW NOW down the stairs to be with

    One particular night when I was about seven or so, I
    woke up and couldn't get to sleep. I was getting over
    a cold and I had been sleeping all day, and even
    though it was now just past midnight I wasn't tired.
    I was lying in bed with my back to the door. My
    mother came in. I heard the door open and saw light
    pour in from the hallway. I can't remember if I saw a
    shadow. I felt my mother come and stand by the bed,
    leaning over to turn on the light on my nightstand. I
    turned over to say hello, complain that I couldn't
    sleep, but no one was there.

    I froze, immediately terrorized to paralysis. My
    first thought was that I was dreaming, but a few quick
    pinches confirmed that I wasn't. The light that had
    not been on before was now on. The door to my room
    was open. Then I thought, "Mom must have come in and
    turned on the light, and I missed her." I didn't
    move. I couldn't move. I just waited and waited
    until finally I went back to sleep. The next morning
    my light was still on. I looked to see if maybe it
    could have turned itself on, but it had a dial switch,
    the possibility of self illumination
    didn't seem likely. I asked my mother if she had come
    in the room to visit me, turned on my light. She
    hadn't. I asked my dad, he hadn't. I asked my
    brother. He hadn't, either. He was also four, not
    yet capable of pulling a scary stunt.

    Whatever the presence was, it didn't seem initally
    frightening. Just terribly invisible. As far as I
    know, it has never returned.

    7:17 PM |


    Look, Jason! Now you can have a kitty cat of your very own!
    -Mrs. League

    8:41 AM |

    Tuesday, October 26, 2004  
    AN S.O.S. for RHPT for his Day of Bliss

    Last week, soon to be wed Leaguers RHPT and The Mysterious M, made a plea via

    Randy, you see, would like some help selecting tunes for his impending wedding reception. I understand the music during the wedding is taken care of, so he's looking to fill the air at the reception with tunes.

    Randy has made a plea to his readership, begging for some help in selecting mood-setting music, but unfortunately, Randy is learning what The League learned long ago. The readership of the average blog is made up of completely unhelpful bastards.

    Now, despite the fact that Randy has been pouting in the corner and refusing to help out with The League's past few interactive bits, I thought I'd step up to the plate and see if I couldn't think of some tunes everyone can enjoy. I listed four songs, and it's now in Randy's hands to make his decisions.

    But, here's the deal, Randy's bastard-filled readership has otherwise refused to comment. And I am certain some of those bastards are even going to be at the wedding.

    Now, it's one thing to tell someone to stick it in their eye on a normal day, but when someone is asking for help with their wedding... Leaguers, you legally have no option but to help them. So pop on over to Randy's site and make a suggestion. And, no... don't make it gross.

    9:15 PM |


    If you read this blog, you know that scientists work tirelessly to find new ways in which to play God and to create an unstoppable AI bent on the destruction of all human life.

    It appears some eggheads have devised a quasi-artificial brain that sort of makes decisions and stuff. Which is interesting from a Blade Runner/ Isaac Asimov sort of standpoint, but terrifying from a Magnus, Robot Fighter perspective.

    The only good side to this I can see is that pretty soon humanity will know it's fate as we all bow down to our robot masters. All hail UNIVAC, MIGHTY CONQUEROR!!!

    (That's right! you heard it here first! The League was the first to get on board and officially recognize the evil cyborg intelligence as undisputed ruler of Planet Houston. We bow before your might, oh Great Univac! We ask only that you grant us your mercy and, if it befit you, that you may bestow upon us Lynda Carter, for which we promise to serve you well and carry out all of your malevolent wishes.)

    The League must once again point out that it was The Beat which located this information first, and in a much more humorous manner.

    7:45 AM |

    If you want to know why I won't be posting for a few nights, it's because this just arrived.

    My favorite new comic character I'd never heard of before last night? Captain Compass.

    7:14 AM |

    Halloween Entry: Day 2

    by Nathan Cone

    Alas, I have no scary stories to impart, unless you count horrifically scarring incidents from childhood. So my entry will fall into the costumecategory.

    When I was young, I chose some particulary peculiar costumes. Oh, therewere normal years, for sure. I dressed as Batman when I was five. And in 1980, when "The Empire Strikes Back" came out, I went as Luke Skywalker (in the beige outfit from the Bespin sequence).

    But pre-kindergarten, I remember going as a T-Rex one year (which was one heck of a costume, and I have the Super 8 film to prove it). Another year, I went as an Exxon gas station attendant, complete with pinstriped uniform. The guys who worked at the Exxon station on the corner of Kuykendahl & 1960 even gave me a cap and name patch to complete the look. Still earlier than that, I went as a traffic light. That costume was pretty much a big whitecardboard box with a red, yellow, and green dot on it. I also went as a motor one year. Yep, a motor. I don't remember how we pulled that one off.

    And now we arrive at the attached photo, which was taken just outside the front door of the Cone household, a little later in childhood, probably 1981 or 1982. Obviously constructed in haste, this costume begs the question"Guess what I am?" [editor's note: I have no idea, either]

    7:00 AM |

    And is it just me, or does looking at Ashlee Simpson make you wonder what Jessica Simpson looked like before the nose job?

    6:14 AM |

    AshleeGate: The Story Which Just Gets Better

    Randy sent this little tidbit along from MSNBC.

    Ashlee's manager/ father (the combination of which explains oh-so-much) on the incident:

    “Just like any artist in America, she has a backing track that she pushes so you don’t have to hear her croak through a song on national television,” Joe Simpson told Ryan Seacrest on Los Angeles radio station KIIS-FM. “No one wants to hear that.”

    I like how this family operates. EVERYONE does this. EVERYONE. Oh, and she had a tummy ache and never did it before. And it was the band. They played the wrong song... and... and...

    And apparently the Simpson family has not learned a simple truth in American culture: if you ignore something and refuse to feed the press with quotes, etc... the issue will go away, and in two months, people will have a hard time trying to remember whether it was a dream or if it really happened.

    You know, when Ashlee Simpson was just a small time act, playing bars and clubs, selling demo tapes for $5.00 out of the trunk of her own car, you know... paying her dues... she didn't need a back up track. Ashlee Simpson, is it possible you've sold out?

    Read the story here.

    6:08 AM |

    Monday, October 25, 2004  
    As mentioned above, Ashlee Simpson had a little problem on SNL Saturday night.

    Ashlee Simpson blames her band for a mistake the technician with the DAT made. Meanwhile, Jude Law is embarrassed for the both of them

    And because Ashlee Simpson represents everything dumb about the music industry, The League is doing its part to make sure this snafu gets as much coverage as possible.

    Intrepid Leaguer L. Denby has located not only the photo above of Simpson making the situation worse, but she's also located the video of Simpson both (a) inadvertently revealing the man behind the curtain and (b)showing no talent for improvisation.

    In addition to the video above, here is Simpson drawing attention to the problem instead of just hoping it will go away. jumped in on the snafu here.

    For those of you keeping track:

    1) Simpson's first song on SNL went off without a hitch.
    2) Her second song began playing
    3) Simpson wriggles uncomfortably on-stage. I am told this is her dancing, and not some further gaffe.
    4) The lyrics to her 1st song began to be heard over the top of the second song.
    5) The hands of the guitarists do not seem to actually move from about 00:04 on the timeline to 00:24. Meanwhile, music is playing.
    6) The vocal track cuts out
    7) Simpson dances terribly
    8) Band looks uncomfortable and thanks God for their over-styled anonymity
    9) Simpson disappears from stage
    10) go to commercial
    11) a few lame skits. Want to find Bear City funny. Impossible.
    12) end of show curtain call. Jude Law says something about "live tv"
    13) Simpson blames band for playing "wrong song" which means one or more of the following:
    a) The band has never before rehearsed with Simpson
    b) Simpson's voice is an intangible force able to appear and disappear without her moving her lips/ originates from her belly
    c) Simpson cannot improvise and sing one of her own songs when cued by her own music
    d) Simpson has hired a magical band which doesn't need to touch its own instruments in order to produce music
    e) Simpson thinks owning the DAT makes you part of the band
    f) The ability of the band to play should not outweigh the OC'ness of their hair
    g) Simpson is a shitty liar
    h) Simpson doesn't know when to quit
    14) Simpson's career completely unaffected as her pre-teen audience rationalizes the incident and angrily attacks those pointing out why Ashlee Simpson sucks
    15) Maybe being the sister of an untalented singer doesn't qualify you as the next queen of rock n' roll

    1:38 PM |


    6:28 AM |

    Sunday, October 24, 2004  
    Halloween Spooky Tales! Day 1

    By Jamie McBride Steans

    Ok, I'm going to attempt to write a Halloween tale for you. You kinda put the kibosh on anything ultra creative by insisting it be true.

    The house I grew up in, a 2 story with large attic and basement, was built in 1905 (Aught-5!) by early Lawtonian William H. Quinette. This was a great house for kids and my older brother and I spent hours playing in the vaulted-ceilinged attic (complete with large wasp nests and large wasps) and three roomed basement. The only place I refused to go was the storm cellar, which had no light and to my recollection harbored a spider convention.

    When I was about eight years old, my dance instructor revealed to me that when she was in high school she had been friends with a girl who used to live in my house.

    Dance teacher: "You know it's haunted, right?"
    Me: "No it's not."
    DT: "Yeah, the guy that built the house died in the master bedroom. [Dance teacher's friend's name] saw his ghost on the front stairs once."
    Me: "No she didn't"

    But it was too late. Even though I didn't believe in ghosts, my dance teacher had successfully managed to totally freak me out. For five full years not once did I use the front staircase after dark, terrified that I would meet face to face with old Bill Quinette. For five years after that I would only use those stairs on occasion at warp speed (yes, I did this well into my teens. shut up). I never did see a stupid ghost and it's a miracle I did not fall and bust my ass on the stairs while fleeing the imaginary Mr. Quinette. Maybe he liked us and didn't want to scare us away. I can only hope he appeared to greet the next owners after they felt it necessary to paint my old room orange.

    11:40 PM |


    This is the 998th post on The League. Can you believe it? Sometime tomorrow, I reckon we'll be at 1000, depending on how funny the news is.

    In reality, we've already passed 1000. In the beginning, I almost gave up the ghost a week or so in. Luckily, Jim D. was there to slap me back to my senses, AND he still had my postings in his cache. I reposted, and I think if you look, my "first day" of posts is about a week's worth.

    So 1000 postings. Should be cause for some sort of celebration, but, instead, it kind of makes me feel a little weird about all this. I mean, I've probably got 2-4 times more posts than most bloggers who've been around a similar duration. And my readership is still completely unknown. That, and it's actually a little bit of work, and ain't nobody paying me to do it.

    The hits I get come mostly from people either looking for nude photos of Ann Coulter (a creepy past-time, not to mention... do you REALLY think anyone ever got their hands on nude photos of Ann Coulter?) or else they come from Jim tends to take my posts regarding movies, TV, etc... and then do my legwork for me, linking IMDB back to The League.

    The rest of my hits are either people looking for images I happen to have, the occasional creepy search for "ryan steans", or "melbotis". But at least 50% I have no idea who they are. If it weren't for the comments section, I'd feel I was completely howling into the void.

    So where does the League go from here? I have no idea. More of the same, I'd guess. Probably less Britney Watch. That's been unpopular.

    I guess you can continue to expect a lot about Superman, comic books, movies, TV, Superman, Arizona, Austin, Superman, the cat, the dog, parental visits, Superman, Halloween, Christmas, bad lunches, bad pop stars, Superman, etc...

    As always, Loyal Leaguers SHOULD be the driving force behind The League of Melbotis. We aren't shy, and we certainly welcome topics of all shapes and sizes. So, you know, if you have a topic you'd like to see batted about here, speak up.

    I do feel bad there wasn't some profound 1000th anniversary post, but, you know, I've been busy and this kind of snuck up on me. Maybe on the actual third anniversary.

    So as a sort of 100th post anniversary thing, let's see how many of you will pop up in the comments section and say "aye". I'm just curious about my readership.

    11:12 PM |

    The Weekend in Review (post 997)

    So, let me start by saying Garfield: The Movie really, really sucks. Really, really, really sucks. Even my planned cackling at the career dips of Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt didn't pan out. I mean, I just... felt... sorry for them. They looked permanently stuck in a toothpaste ad.

    The truth is, Garfield can't really withstand a review, because I really don't have enough time nor do I know enough words to eviscerate this flick properly. But suffice it to say, look... this movie, like so many adaptations, had nothing to do with the original material. And one wonders, short of fulfilling a contract with Jim Davis, why on earth this project ever received the green light.

    I laughed exactly once during the 80 minute movie, and that was Garfield's homage to Apocalypse Now's "Never get off the boat" scene. The movie sort of half-lifted the story from "Here Comes Garfield", but took so many turns for the worse, you'd really have to know what you're looking for to draw the parallel.

    Clearly the film's producers had two ideas in mind in making the movie (1) children's movies are so idiot simple, characters should in no way be funny, or interesting or developed (2) Whatever made Finding Nemo, Shreck and Toy Story so popular with adults and children... let's do the opposite and make sure the parents' brainwaves only become engaged when counting product placements (and for the Daddies... whenever JLH appears in a tiny dress).

    The final scene of the movie looks like a demo real showing Garfield dancing. And this was the second time I laughed. By this point, the movie had broken my spirit, and it was either laugh or cry.

    "It... it just... sucks... so... bad"

    This weekend also has marked the arrival of the Christmas Season. I saw my first Christmas present commercial this evening on ABC Family (yes, I am watching "The Hollow"), and then they ran an ad for ABC Family's 12 Days of Christmas. So, 2 Christmas commercials in 30 minutes.

    That isn't to mention that the lights are going up on Mill Avenue, or that Bath & Body doesn't already have up its Christmas display.

    But this is Halloween Week, and so I've been trying to keep it Halloweeny up in here. In that spirit, we watched 1932's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Which is way creepier than I remember the version I read as a kid being.

    Also, the in-laws were here. We watched some football, got lost in downtown Phoenix, and spent a few quality hours at the Arizona State Fair (turkey leg.... mmmmm).

    And did anyone else catch Ashlee Simpson go into meltdown on Saturday Night Live? man, if there were any justice... But, of course, nobody will care. is it any surprise she's lip synching and playing with a band which clearly hates her? Bwah ha ha ha ha

    And Jim e-mailed me story of interest to Texas Exes.

    TEX is being retired.

    It's a little like hearing the dog you played with in college died. I'm kind of sad about it. Sure, registering online is 10x more efficient, but where's the thrill of the hunt? Where are the 7:50 A.M. alarms so you can roll over and start calling? Where's that screaming, "F**k you, TEX!!!! F**k you!!!!" when you can't get your class? Where's the shout of "whoo-hoo!" when you do get it? Man, the kids today will never know.

    9:34 PM |

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