I was driving a white Toyota SUV when I got into a fender bender with another vehicle. Later I get a call from my lawyer who in reality is my current supervisor at work. He tells me in a matter-of-fact, cavalier sort of way that because of that mishap I was being sentenced to death by electric chair. Not by hanging or lethal injection or firing squad. Silya elektrika.
I was mortified.
If it was that bad then have the LTO revoke my license. Naturally I’d rather be a pedestrian than fry to death for something so inconsequential. I was still defending my point (and my life) when…
I woke up heaving. It’s been a while since I had one of these disturbing dreams. Took me a few minutes to calm down. The fact that I don’t drive and I don’t own an SUV and that I don’t like the color white on any of my would-be vehicles finally convinced me it was all in my head. I went back to sleep.
Notice how in slasher films, a character’s IQ is directly proportional to the amount of time he/she is allowed to live. The lesser the brain activity, the quicker they are to meet their demise.
Why do you think Paris Hilton never made it to the finish line of the House of Wax?
So that must be the subliminal message posed by every single horror movie ever made albeit inadvertent. Kids, if you don’t want to be [figuratively] squelched by the garage door, invest in your mind.
**Disclaimer:
I did not take this picture. It is another piece of hilarity discovered online. Credit is due to the sharp eye who did. Unfortunately I don’t know who that person is.
Upon the recommendation of a celluloid-addicted friend, I watched Mary and Max the other week. It is a claymated film directed by Adam Elliot that features the voices of Philip Seymour Hoffman and Toni Collette. The story centers on an unlikely pen friendship between Mary, an eight-year-old living in Melbourne and Max, a forty-four-year old obese New Yorker who suffers from Asperger Syndrome.
There was a rather bleak sequence in the movie where Mary (all grown up and at the end of her rope) contemplates suicide. In the background they played a cover of Que Sera Sera, a song originally recorded by Doris Day in 1956. The original I never paid any real attention to but this version caught my ear. It has what I call an “abandoned theme park” feel to it. Very Neil Gaiman. I particularly liked the antithesis: the innocuous lyrics vis–à–vi the sinister, almost macabre arrangement. Makes it even creepier.
Since I refuse to cater to consumerism and dish out $59.00 for a video blog upgrade, I have resorted to taking full advantage of Youtube. Baked this one myself.
That one show we all grew up with. And I mean all of us regardless of age considering it’s been running for the past four decades. We know the opening theme song by heart. Sunny day, chasing the clouds away! Even now I sing it to myself specifically to keep from biting someone’s head off. Maybe because it reverts my mind back to when I was young and carefree and did not have to deal with adulthood on a daily basis.
We learned to count from that animated sequence that shows a pin ball hitting the numbers one to twelve. And learned the difference between near and far thanks to Grover’s demonstration. And sang along to the rubber ducky song.
We know that spiel they go into after each episode. Sesame Street has been brought to you today by the letter C and the number 7. Sesame Street is a production of the Children’s Television Workshop.
So from all of us kids who spent our afternoons with Big Bird, Kermit, Ernie, Bert, Oscar the Grouch, and the rest of the characters that were as much a part of our childhood as scraped knees and climbing trees:
