Tuesday, February 26, 2008

I seem to have caught a cold, and I know exactly who I caught it from, it was the ass sitting behind me on my flight back to Chicago on President’s Day. It was AA Flight 711 and the guy was coughing with his mouth open. I knew it was going to happen, even after I asked him to cover it. What kind of a person doesn’t cover their mouth when they cough? He was coughing from left to right from behind me and guess who was to his right through the middle of the seat in front?  I have taken a butt load of Vitamin C, some Airborne tablets (too late I fear) and a bunch of cough medicine, so forgive me if my blog makes less sense than usual. At least they didn’t drag a dead Haitian corpse into first class.

Last night’s Oscars were the worst viewed ever. Nobody has asked me, but I can tell you why. We are sick and tired of Hollywood assholes who can’t even settle a strike so that we can see our damned TV shows and movies the way we want. It was obvious that they settled the writer’s strike so that they could televise the Academy Awards. Everybody knows that. They had to settle it so that they could all give themselves awards. Then they proceeded to give the awards to foreigners for movies that none of us saw. Nothing shows how out of touch Hollywood is like an Oscars telecast.  They need to move Hollywood to Chicago. We know what people in the heartland want. Just ask Oprah.

That said, I did watch No Country For Old Men Monday afternoon. For some reason, I got a screener copy. I think it’s because I’m in the Screen Actor’s Guild (SAG). I’ve had it for a while, but figured I’d better watch it after it won Best Picture on Sunday night.  I really like the Coen Brothers, and I liked No Country just fine. It made me a little anxious, and I could have used more resolution at the end with the villain, but then again there was resolution with the Tommy Lee Jones character. You’ll have to see it to know what I mean, obviously, and I don’t want to wreck it for you if you haven’t. I also thought that whatever contraption the killer was using looked a lot like my flamethrower.