This weekend, mr b got the kids’ closets done. I was thrilled, thinking that it was the best weekend ever, since I could finally get the seven bajillion loads of laundry put away. That is, until about the 3rd load, at which time “the best weekend ever” involved having finished closets, plus some sort of laundry elves or gnomes or fairies who would actually do it for me. So, it didn’t all get done, but I am making steady progress.

In between making 12 billion trips up and down the stairs and calling my washing machine a bitch, I watched movies.

I took the kids to see Horton Hears a Who. It was pretty cute. I love Dr. Seuss, so I was hoping to love the movie. Not quite loved, but I liked it. It just seemed like there was something missing for me – that special quality you see in a Dinsey or Pixar movie that makes you want to see it again. Or maybe it was just that Dr. Seuss is more charming in book form. I don’t know. But at least it wasn’t the flaming ass that is the live action Seuss films, so I’ll still give a B. It was cute. And speaking of cute – after the movie was over, the girl told me that she thought Jojo Who was “handsome”:

Great – that kid looks like trouble. I’m sure her dad will be thrilled when she brings home some moody little emo punk. Oh, and also – between admission, lunch, drinks and popcorn, I spent approximately 17 thousand dollars

We also watched August Rush, which the boy has been wanting to see. Meh. I know I was supposed to find it heartwarming, but to be honest I thought that kid was creepy. Actually, for the first 30 minutes, I was sure he was mentally challenged. After I figured out that he was not, I found him creepy, what with the weird-ass “conducting” of buses and garbage and subway exhaust. And while I can buy musical genius and being able to immediately play instruments by ear, I was totally not buying the 45 seconds from “these are notes” to the Rain Man symphony writing. The preposterousness of the forged adoption papers thing was just too much. And the whole thing with his mother and the “I hear him” crap – bleh. Maybe it would have been a little more believable if they had shown a little of it, but of course then it would have been nine hours long and I already want at least 30 minutes of it back, so no. The only really good part was that it had some cool music and that Jonathan Rhys Meyers is sexy. Mmm.

By far, the best movie I watched this weekend was on cable – Can’t Stop the Music. Disco with a side of cheese, topped with gay sauce. Who wouldn’t love that?

And I’ve decided – I’m totally going to live out this movie. I plan on writing songs about the Days Inn in Asheville, Coke Zero and my dog’s ass and I will head out into the streets to throw together a “band”. But since a) the construction worker and cop are cliché, b) I just can’t abuse a soldier in that fashion, c) peta wouldn’t approve of the leather guy, d) Trace Adkins and Kix Brooks are already taken, so the cowboy is out, and e) you just don’t see too many full headdress-wearing Native Americans on Forbes Avenue these days, I’m thinking:

– UPS delivery man
– Priest
– Former dotcom bigwig now working as administrative assistant
– Homeless guy
– Podiatrist
– Fidel Castro (since he’s free and all)

What do you think? Is this not the perfect plan?

Because seriously. Who wouldn’t want to recreate the genius that gave us this:

And this:
And this:
And this:
And this:
Hey – what do you expect from a girl who wore velvet knickers and headbands

About sugarmag

Forty-sdjhfkjsdhfkjsdh year old mom of 2 - a 18 year old boy and a 11 year old girl. I love them very much, but they drive me crazy. I'm married and work full-time. I'm not sure which of these is the most exhausting, but probably the husband. I'm opinionated. I'm outspoken. I'm loud. I'm an over-sharer. I think Tom Cruise is a jackass. I like to say jackass. I like to swear, period. Fuckers. I love to read. I struggle with my weight. I love my job. I dress my pets up and ridicule them regularly. I am not afraid to cut my hair and I don't understand people who are. I hate getting old. I love to laugh. Make me laugh, OK?

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