Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher is one of my top two favourite short stories of all time. I also very much like hot, athletic, shirtless men. But can someone explain to me how anyone was able to come up with a treatment that combines both and still call it Edgar Allan Poe’s House of Usher?
Poe’s story is about an ill man, living with his sister, also ill, that invites an old childhood friend to comfort him during his sickness. I won’t ruin the end, which is terrifying, but at no point do four young, hot, gay men make an appearance—either explicitly or in subtext.
And… “Many have arrived, few have survived?” What?
Don’t get me wrong, I like gay cinema as much as the next non-straight guy (except when it’s low-budget, pretentious, or a re-hash), but this is just silly.
Digg had a story about a Donald Duck comic earlier today, and when I clicked on it, I got this instead. It’s the ending of Mortal Kombat 4 when you play as a character named Jax. I think it’s better somehow:
The Black Dragon Live On!
Update: Someone in the Digg comments was able to find the Donald Duck comic before the link mysteriously changed: Hook, Line, and Succor.
Mom: Oh, and I forgot to mention! Our complaints manager has been sick for the last week or so.
Me: Oh, poor George! Well, you have to admit, he is getting on there. You know. I mean, I’m not saying he’s old, but…
Mom: No, neither are we.
Me: …Does it ever strike you as odd that the only recipient of a customer service award on your floor spends most of his time sleeping in a filing cabinet?
Mom: Well, he comes out to take complaints.
Me: Well yeah, but…
The complaints manager at the TD bank at Edmonton Centre is a Japanese fighting fish named George who has a little plastic office suite in his tank. He even has an official TD nametag indistinguishable from the other employees’ tags. Not that they should distinguish because he’s a fish, but… I mean, I’m not a speciesist at all, but… I’m going to go lie down now.
I just love this - the Untooned Jessica Rabbit. This is the same guy that did the untooned Homer Simpson (creeeepy) and Mario from Super Mario Brothers (even creepier, if possible), but Jessica obviously beats those guys with a stick. I especially love the smoke-in-the-spotlight effect in the picture.
Last Friday I took a trip to Red Deer with a friend to drop off her unnamed puppy (impossible to keep at the moment) with his new family, and it was my job to keep him from running around the truck. He was about as big as my outstretched hand and twice as cute.
Can you believe this little item is really descended from wolves?
As promised, here is the photo-essay of the craziness last night when the drugs were doing nothing to knock down the fever and everything seemed like a good idea (including doing a velociraptor-walk on the balcony in my glow-in-the-dark boxers complete with sound effects). I decided to make that most sublime of treats… chocolate-covered marshmallows!
I had the marshmallows already to try to make cornflake squares and leftover chocolate chips from a batch of frosted cookies around Halloween and some part of my brain was all, “Oh! Oh! Things that go together!”
Chocolate chips at fifteen seconds microwave time:
Chocolate chips at thirty seconds:
Dipping:
Too gooey to eat right away. Stuck in fridge on glass plate, took out this morning:
Ate four for breakfast, staggered around the apartment foaming at the mouth. Final verdict: BLECHHH. My fault for using those leftover milk chocolate chips. Would have been pretty good with semi-sweet or even bittersweet. But chocolate-covered marshmallows is the obvious thing to do when you’re up late and hysterical and your brain is baking, yes?
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