Two Items: one Important™ and one Dumb™.
We spent Saturday up in Pittsville, WI (where the hell is that?) with the *-kalishes, wwhazz and bellygirl, rumthumb and lawman, and MY BROTHER. Photographics abound; I’ll link to some of rumthumb’s for now and get mine uploaded today. We smoked some roasts in the smoker, watched Cordero melt down in the 9th, and in the morning had a Gigantor Country Breakfast.
The ladies took a ride into Pittsville proper and got themselves some Bomb-Ass hunting caps, beef jerky, two bumper stickers, and a 30-pack of High Life for $20. Nice.
ktk and HADLEY!
There was also a rarin’ game of Bocce Ball. The wwhazz/lawman combo ruled all… again.
The above pictures were all from rumthumb. My pictures centered more on a dog-wrestling match and food porn. Here’s a picture of the dogs playing…
And here’s some food porn for you:
Finally, from rumthumb, here’s a picture of me taking the food porn pictures…
Now, onto all things Dumb™. I guess the last episode of the Soprano’s was this weekend. I dunno, I never watch that show. Apparently a bunch of people went apeshit over the ending, though. Let me cover my eyes and point randomly at one dumb part of the Teh Internet:
The line to cancel HBO starts here. What a ridiculously disappointing end lacking in creativity to The Sopranos saga. But if you’re one of those who found it perversely interesting, then don’t bother to read on. Even if David Chase, who wrote and directed the final episode, was demonstrating the existential and endless loop of Tony’s life or the moments before the hit that causes his death, it still robbed the audience of visual closure. And if it were done to segue into a motion picture sequel, then that kind of crass commercialism shouldn’t be tolerated.
Chase clearly didn’t give a damn about his fans. Instead, he crapped in their faces. This is why America hates Hollywood.
This comes from the Me-Me-Me! School of Thought, which states that anything you don’t get is Dumb or Elitist, and anything you don’t like is like having crap thrown in your face? Or maybe pooped directly into your mouth; not sure. It’s unclear why people believe that they (the viewers) get to tell the creators of Art (uh, the artists) how to create said art. Moreover, realize that people are calling to cancel their HBO subscriptions. Take that, HBO! I’m not gonna watch the now-finished show on your network any mo– wait. Notably, thanks to Hollywood Douchebag or whoever this guy is , I know now that a clear dichotomy exists in the art-creator/art-consumer relationship. You either “give a damn about [your] fans” or you “[crap] in their faces”. Noted. You stumblefucks. You cloisterfucking Derrek Lee poopmouths. I’m canceling my internet subscription because this guy’s website exists.
We also saw Ocean’s Thirteen last night. It was ok, good summer popcorn movie, but I saw the ending coming 1.5 hours away. Also, it does a repeat performance from an earlier installation, which helps in calling it. Solid meh. Can’t wait for Superbad.