Bob has got a lot going for him, the way I see it:
In no particular order:
So, let’s say you’re Kirk Ellis — the guy who got the chance to turn David McCullough’s Pulitzer Prize-winning, popular biography of American founder John Adams into a top-shelf, seven-part HBO miniseries. You could stick to the facts of Adams’ life, which are more than dramatic enough, in telling a gripping tale.
Or you could construct a totally bogus subplot about how Adams’ son, Thomas, drank himself to death due to resentment over his father’s (inaccurately represented) long absences from home. That is just one of the many, many needless and pointless inaccuracies, not to mention egregious distortions, in the miniseries. After all, what better way to honor a national hero than to lie relentlessly about his life and family?
Look, screenwriters: If you want to make stuff up, write fictional screenplays. If you want to write “fact-based tales,” then stick to the facts as opposed to, say, conveying the notion that Adams’ daughter Nabby’s husband deserted her and her family when in reality he did not. Whatever. I keep telling myself I will stop getting worked up about this sort of thing, but I am compelled to watch these biopics and then discover how brutally and stupidly they disort the truth.
Speaking of Bob, he may have lots of nicknames but he won’t be hanging out with Brangelina anytime soon. His 2007 flick, “The Fluff Factor,” was a miserable failure at the box office. Bet you never even heard of it. Really, the marketing campaign was lousy.
Cool poster, though, courtesy of the folks at Big Huge Labs. Maybe a different tagline would have done the trick? I passed on “Killing them softly … with his fluff.”
I’m not sure of the answer, but consider this an update to a previously posted — and subsequently lost — list of my dog Bob‘s many, many nicknames. They represent my feeble attempt to capture, nominally, this Australian Shepherd‘s central characteristics of excitability, huggability, and — uh — furrability.
You may already know him as Tubby — which of course is short for Tubford Wigglesworth — due to his fondness for chillaxin’ in the bathtub come summertime. Here, in no particular order, are some other nicknames that have occurred to me, accompanied by links to the names that inspired them when applicable.
I’ll update this post if I remember or come up with any others.
In light of this incident, it must be Flyin’ Shoes. To wit:
Days full of rain
Sky’s comin’ down again
I get so tired
Of these same old blues
Same old song
Baby, it won’t be long
Fore I be tyin’ on
My flyin’ shoes
Flyin’ shoes
Till I be tyin’ on
My flyin’ shoes
Or is it “Waitin’ Round to Die“?
[Not so long ago, in the cereal aisle]
Me: Hey, Karen — I’ve forgotten. Are Frosted Flakes any good?
Karen: Yeah. They’re pretty good.
Me: [Shaking head sadly] All that money on advertising gone to waste.
Roger Ebert adds “Magnolia” to his list of “great movies” today, writing a new review for the occasion. He concludes:
“Magnolia” is one of those rare films that works in two entirely different ways. In one sense, it tells absorbing stories, filled with detail, told with precision and not a little humor. On another sense, it is a parable. The message of the parable, as with all good parables, is expressed not in words but in emotions. After we have felt the pain of these people, and felt the love of the policeman and the nurse, we have been taught something intangible, but necessary to know.
This should not come as too much of a surprise, considering that Ebert has always been very supportive of Paul Thomas Anderson’s work and gave “Magnolia” four stars when it came out. Still, it is nice to see this unfairly derided film get such a high profile plaudit.
Unlike some people, I adore each element of the traditional Thanksgiving meal. I wish I could have Thanksgiving dinner all year ’round. How about a theme restaurant where every day is Thanksgiving? All the great fixings without any of the hassle — or in-laws.
Call it … Thanks!
You know, waiters in pilgrim outfits, waitresses dressed like Indians wearing feathers in their hair. Breakfast is turkey omelettes with a side of stuffing. Lunch is “leftover” turkey sandwiches. TVs showing the Detroit Lions losing on a loop. Have a section of the menu with 1621-style offerings.
Some taglines:
This started in my mind as a joke, but now it’s developed into a half-baked idea.
Isn’t it a shame that no woman anywhere can explain — using a particular phrase — that she has a lot of stuff in the storage compartment of her car without eliciting childish giggles?
Folks all over are working to not pack on any pounds over the winter holidays as part of “maintain, not gain” fitness campaigns. Well, the approach I believe I’ve perfected is to eat as gluttonously as though it were the holiday season for the other 10 months of the year. It’s hard to gain much when you’ve already given yourself the leeway of 70 pounds’ excess weight.
To people, coal miners have the courage to do hard, dirty, dangerous work. But I bet canaries think coal miners are giant wusses.
The New York Times’ Jeff Zeleny reports today that George W. Bush is an AOLer. The e-mail address he surrendered upon entering the White House? G94B@aol.com.
kboreilly.com 
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