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Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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2:55 p.m. - 2010-12-06
No secret that I'm a big old sucker for some kinds of schmaltz. Including actual schmaltz if you're making soup or chopped liver with it. But never just spread on toast. Butter was invented so we don't have to put chicken fat on toast. In any case, combine the flu with the start of the Christmas folderol and I've been drowning myself in schmaltz in an effort not to go completely to pieces. The mean reds are menacing me big time. This morning me and my 1,000lb snot balloon head laid in bed and watched 'Romancing the Stone' for 2.5 hours on AMC. Spoiled as I am by Turner Classic Movies and dvds, watching a movie on a channel with relentless commercials sucked rancid wiener. But I stuck with it partly because I didn't feel well enough to get up and do anything else, but mostly because I was waiting for the money shot. 2 and � hours of 5 minutes of movie, 4 minutes of ads, 5 minutes of movie, 4 minutes of ads (at twice the volume of the movie, thank the gods for mute buttons), etc, etc, etc�all so I could get my goofy fix with the boat in the street and Kathleen Turner's declaration that dying in Michael Douglas's arms was the only way to go. Yes, I am a sucker for the schmaltz. And oy, Michael Douglas! How sad! Sure, everybody hopes for miracles, but you can see in the most recent pics of him that's he's a walking dead man. Fucking cancer. Guh. Sorry. See why I need to dose myself with sappy crappy? Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds? My Tiffany's is the movies. The place I go when I need Dorothy and Toto to get home safe, for Rocky to get up off the mat, and where nobody ever puts Baby in a corner.
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