November 06, 2008
EW #1018 (heroes)
And this is why no one went to see Bank Job which has gotten great reviews (I have it on DVD but haven't watched yet): because the star (Jason something) mostly does (and is still doing) movies like "Transporter 3". Doh.
Dear Owen Gleiberman,
I'm reading your review of "Let the Right One In", and wow, I can't believe how WRONG you got this one. The dude who kills people and drains their blood? He's neither an actual "serial killer" nor the vampire's father*. He's something like her butler, or her servant (or perhaps someone her vampire family entrusted to aid her). He goes out and kills people and drains their blood...TO FEED HER. So she doesn't go out killing people vampire-style and get caught and say, perhaps, staked in the heart.
Seriously,
I know it was in Swedish, but it wasn't that hard to understand,
CMS
*Certainly no one I saw it with thinks he's her 'father' and most vampires would acknowledge their 'father' as being the one who turned them.
Posted by Duff at 10:36 AM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Flicks, Letters, Rags
October 01, 2008
Oh, the torture.
1) Au Bon Pain has suddenly, and without any type of notification (such as certified letter to me), stopped carrying Nantucket Nectars Half & Half, my most beloved bottled drink (half Ice Tea/half Lemonade, what some would call an "Arnold Palmer").
Problem the first: This is the only reason I even went to ABP today.
Problem the second: This drink is almost impossible to find in Chicago. (Even in NYC, I used to make special trips to Penn Station as there was a very reliable vendor of it there.)
Dear ABP,
You've just been banned from my lunchtime rotation for at least a month. So there.
Sincerely,
My entire life is falling apart, and NOW THIS?
Are you kidding me,
Duff
2) I for some unknown and clearly completely ridiculous reason ordered brown rice in my otherwise deliciously dependable Mayan Chicken Harvest Rice Bowl.
Problem the first: This brown rice thing? Has a shall we call it very distinctive....flavor? We are not fans.
Dear White Rice,
I am missing the shit out of you right now.
Sincerely,
The big loserly lover of blandness in her food,
Duff
Posted by Duff at 12:41 PM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Food, Letters
August 21, 2008
Fantasy: The Hob's Bargain, by Patricia Briggs
Another - typically as you might expect from who the author is - completely entertaining, engrossing fantasy novel.
Dear Ms. Briggs,
Every book of yours I read just breaks my heart a little bit more than the last one. The characters are so enticing; smart and funny and strong and so many other things that you wish people were in your real life. I just want their stories to go on and on and on...
Seriously,
I want to marry Kith, do you know a real him for me?,
Duff.
Posted by Duff at 12:38 PM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Books, Letters, Readin', Recommending
May 24, 2008
Mystery: One False Move, by Harlan Coben
Burning through mysteries in the offhours while reading this month's challenge book.
The next in the Myron Bolitar series (after these). Still enjoying these, but not quite as much thanks to throwaway paragraphs with pedantic tones like this one:
"Win waited by Myron's car. He was bent slightly at the waist, practicing his golf swing. He did not have a club or a ball, of course. Remember blasting rock music and jumping on your bed and playing air guitar? Golfers do the same thing. They hear some internal sounds of nature, step on imaginary first tees, and swing air clubs. Air woods usually. Sometimes, when they want more control, they take air irons out of the air bags. And like teens with air guitars, golfers like to watch themselves in mirrors..."
Seriously? Do tell. Who is the audience for that? Or, better yet, who does the writer think his audience is that he needs to write that? You can, indeed, take dumbing down a bit too far.
Dear Harlan Coben,
There aren't that many Myron Bolitar books after this one. So I'm sure I'll keep reading them up until the end. Because I like Myron. And I love Win, despite the fact that he's a raving psychopath. (He makes Joe Pike look well adjusted.) But seriously? You can do better than that.
Sincerely,
who would've thought golf could be made more boring than it actually is,
CMS
Posted by Duff at 05:19 PM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Books, Letters, Readin'
May 12, 2008
In Concert: Crowded House
Dear Neil Finn,
I honestly thought this night would never happen. I mean, first the band either broke up or just stopped playing together, whichever. Then one of the members died (committed suicide, if I recall?). And sure, I went to see you do a solo show in New York, and that was fine, I can dig your solo stuff. But honestly? Hearing "Weather With You"? Live and in person? (Preceded by "Don't Dream It's Over" and followed by "7 Worlds Collide")
Seriously,
I can die happy now,
Smooches, CMS
Posted by Duff at 03:36 PM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Letters, Live!!, Tunes
April 12, 2007
To Whom It May Concern:
A customer comment I sent to Philosophy today:
Why oh why did you discontinue the Orange Sherbet? It was SOOOOO MUCH better than the Mimosa. In fact, it was so much better that I cannot even stand to sniff the Mimosa, as it is just a sad, sad imitation and not worthy.
If there are any bottles of Orange Sherbet left in the warehouse that I could in some way purchase, please do not hesitate to let me know.
I am very sad.
Sincerely,
my hair misses it the most,
Duff.
Posted by Duff at 09:27 AM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Letters
January 31, 2007
Open Letter to The Shins
Dear Goofy Albuquerque/Now Living in Portland Boys,
You need to fire the copyeditor/proofreader of your liner notes. Seriously. And James Mercer, if it's you...you're smarter than this.
"Reign" = what a king or queen does. i.e. "rule"
"Rein" = the leather stringy bits that you pull back on to slow down a horse, or a fast situation, or what have you.
When you sing, in Turn on Me "You always had to hold the reigns", you mean reins.
Still love you, but come on, that's an easy one,
smooches, CMS
Posted by Duff at 10:09 AM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Mots, Letters, Tunes
May 30, 2006
Old dog, old tricks.
Dear Cranky Monkey Butt,
Never buy special limited edition Kitkats for your dad if you are not sending them RIGHT THEN because you know what will happen? YOU WILL EAT THEM YOURSELF. Or at least some of them.
Sincerely,
haven't we been over this before?
yourself.
Posted by Duff at 12:24 PM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Letters, Remember, Too Good to Delete
May 10, 2006
I am such a good cousin. And - Boys Suck. As usual.
Here's an email response I wrote for one of my cousins who has a jackhat sending her the most ridiculous emails on earth. The items in bold = those are where I am quoting him back at him.
Dear [name removed to protect the GUILTY],
When I said "I won't meet up with you for dinner", I was being honest to where my feelings were at the time, but not entirely true of my overall feelings about you. I did not mean "I won't meet up with you for dinner next week", I meant "I do not want to see you, speak to you, or get emails from you ever again." By "next week", I meant "for eternity." By "I won't meet up with you," I meant "I do not want you in my life." I just thought you should know that--however hurtful it may be. I just have a difficult time understanding when there are what I perceive as conflicting desires. I'm sorry for how I've interpreted my feelings.
I hope they are clear to you now.
Sincerely,
please do not contact me ever again, stupid moron,
[name removed to protect the INNOCENT].
Posted by Duff at 11:40 AM | E-Mail | Comments (0) | Permalink | filed under Letters, Too Good to Delete
