Backwards Forewards Square And Round

One of Those Kind of Weekends

Lots of movement, raising up a cloud of dust.

Not really sure if it's going anywhere.

But some weekends are like that.

How was yours?

In Response to the New Tom Cruise Movie

"Rock of Ages"?

No thanks.

I'll stick with "Rock of All Ages":

The Storm is Breaking or So it Seems

Tell Her I'll Be Waiting in the Usual Place

I have a theory.

I can guarantee it's wrong.

Don't you want to hear it first?

No. I don't need to.

Here it is:

I really don't need to hear it.

All of the women. The women in these stories.

Uh oh.

I have a theory about them.

Here we go.

What if they're all the same woman?

They're not.

But what if they were?

Is this literal or metaphorical?

I'm going to say yes.

It's ridiculous.

Is it?

Yes.

Maybe not all of them. But some of them.

I don't want to discuss it. It is what it is.

I'm taking that as a yes.

You always do. Even though it's not. Even though it's a "No."

It's just a theory. It's not my fault that it's true.

But it's not.

Or it is?

No. It's not. Definitely not.

It is what it is. That's all you need to know.

And yet...

I'm just going to play the song now.

The song that proves they're all the same woman...

I hate your theories.

I know.

Rules for '80s Movies

After careful consideration, here are the Top 5 Rules for every movie ever made in the '80s.

5. It's not the size of the gun, it's the cleverness of the quip.

4. The dorky guy will get the hot girl. Just once. But he'll get her.

3. Any computer problem can be solved by typing one or two lines.

2. Dancing solves all problems. As does wearing absurd clothes and having a mullet.

1. The most popular song of all time (at least in '80s movies) is:

Hitchcock Tilbrook Bonus Tracks

She's So...

A friend just pointed this out to me:

Robyn Hitchcock from Mojo Presents Abbey Road Now!:



And from the same record, Glenn Tilbrook with Nine Below Zero:

Playing to the Gallery

57 Things She's Never Gonna Use

The story that goes with this song is long. And complicated.

But the song is short. And simple.

Given the choice... I'm going with the song.

Because the story never made sense back then.

And it certainly doesn't make any more sense now.

But the song's only gotten better.

And isn't that what everyone wants from a song?

By the Butcher's Shop with the Sawdust Strewn

Observe the Blood, the Rose Tattoo

There's an alley behind the apartment.

I waited there one evening.

And waited.

And the night grew colder. But I kept waiting.

She was supposed to come home. And talk to me.

But she didn't think of that. Or got busy. Or didn't care.

So I waited. And it started to snow.

I wasn't dressed for snow. Or to hang around all night.

I was dressed for the short walk. For her being home when she said she would.

And as the minutes turned to hours, I knew I should leave. I knew it was making things worse to hang around. I was getting angrier and had already long past the point where I wanted to talk to her anymore.

My friends told me to forget it. They wouldn't want me hanging around in the alley. By her apartment.

Watching the snow accumulate. Get higher. Not hearing the sound of her car.

And the hours kept accumulating like the snow.

Until I thought I heard something. It wasn't her. It was the trees moving.

As if whispering.

Asking me what I was doing in the dark. In the alley.

"Time to go," the trees said.

And I turned. And I left. And I didn't look back even when I heard a car driving up.

I should have left right away. I shouldn't have waited.

What would it matter to her? I thought. And the answer came from the trees: "Nothing."

And I knew the trees were right. It was time to go.