Almost forgot: a short review I wrote of "Otogi -- Myth of Demons" that ran in today's paper.

It's going to be hard to top last week. American Splendor may be the best movie I've seen all year and Once Upon a Time in Mexico was an awful lot of fun. But we trudge on, ever hopeful:

Anything Else: Poor Woody Allen. They have to put Christina Ricci's T-shirted breasts all over the previews to his new movie just so people will notice he's put another one out there. And how did he go from having people like Kenneth Branaugh, John Cusack and Sean Penn playing his anxieties on screen to having to use Jason Biggs as his leading man? Why don't you just start wearing baggy jeans and telling people how much you like 50 Cent, Woodrow? I don't care how good this movie may be; it's ultimately very, very sad.

Charlotte Sometimes: The film company was nice enough to send a DVD of this, but I got super busy and didn't get a chance to watch it. It sounds promising and small-scale, which is just the kind of movie I've been in the mood for these days. Plus it'll make up for my cross-ethnic -Asian guilt for not having gone to see Better Luck Tomorrow.

Cold Creek Manor: Nobody's saying Dennis Quaid isn't cool. Meg Ryan can take her clothes off as many times as she wants for her "art"; that won't make Quaid any less cool. This movie might, though.

The Fighting Temptations: Dude. Man. Radio? I'm sorry, but until Radio comes and goes, there's nothing else about Cuba Gooding Jr. to say.

Rivers and Tides: This documentary about nature artisttttttzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.... zzzzzz....

Secondhand Lions: There was a story I wanted to link to that we ran in our paper about how this movie's writer/director Tim McCanlies actually created Smallville. He asked not to get credit on the show (he disavows it now; the idea originally started as a show about Bruce Wayne), but he still gets a check for every episode. Somehow, that story didn't make it online, so I don't have shit to link to. But it's true. No matter how good or bad this movie is, McCanlies is still the guy who wrote The Iron Giant. For that he's going to Heaven, no matter how many people he kills between now and that special day.

Underworld: Now this is what we've been waiting for. A movie with vampires and werewolves. Nobody has every thought of that idea ever, or of mixing it with The Matrix and the chick from Pearl Harbor. This formula? It can not LOSE! It's invincible! None shall strike it down! Kneel before its goth power! Hooooowwwwwlll! (boom boom boom) Blah! I vant to suck ze box office! All right, it sucks.

DVDs: I don't even want to think about it. No time for anything... but, what's this? Scarface on DVD? hmmm... Yes... I think we can work something out.

I spent the day in Episode III of my out-of-the-office management training which is useful, but also a freakin' treasure chest of snacks and food. If you like to eat, like many humans do, you could do a lot worse than eating snacks, an Italian buffet and all the free tiny half-pint water bottles you can consume.

Oh, and I learned to hire people. The right way, without asking them if they've ever taken a shot at the president. Now I'm cold chillin' at the Hideout. Funky fresh with new hirin' action skillz.

And then Anna Nicole Smith tried to marry the insect.

This story is fine, one of those utility pieces that sounds like a fun assignment until you actually have to be the one to write it and use those drier-than-dry soundbites, but here's the sentence that stopped me:

Clad in his trademark blue sunglasses, Bono was flanked by three bishops of representing the Catholic, Episcopal and Evangelical Lutheran denominations as well as leaders of humanitarian programs and Agnes Nyamya, a Ugandan woman with HIV whom Bush met earlier this year during his visit to Africa.

His trademark sunglasses? The ones that in 17 years of being a U2 fan I've never seen him wear? Not his trademark slicked back hair or his trademark pucker or his trademark black leather. No, Bono's trademark blue sunglasses that will be in every obit photo when he dies. Instead of "The Man in Black" like Johnny Cash, he'll be, "The Guy With Blue Sunglasses."

And that, my friends, is lazy-ass deadline writing.

My XL Blog entry is up with a lot more specific details about the Robert Rodriguez Once Upon a Time in Mexico screening, and lots of other tidbits. I wrote it yesterday and when I finished, I was thinking, "Holy crap, this is like 40 inches long!" And then I realized it was running online, and I made huge aching belly laughs at my online space freedom until they came and took me to another room and sedated me. Then they docked me for the day.

The third season of Smallville is almost upon us (and when I say "upon us," I mean it like when someone you're not sure you like that much is about to sit on you), and since I'll be recapping it, I'm starting to get bits of this and that in relation to the show.

One of them is a fundraiser in Maryland to help raise money to fight Alzheimers. As worthy causes go, it's right up there, so please check it out. What does this have to do with Smallville? Actor John Glover, who is about 15 kinds of fantastic, is part of the fundraiser. You can see his donation page here and contribute to the cause. Let's put a smile on that magnificent bastard's face.

Feels like I haven't talked to you folks in ages, which is weird because I feel like I've been talking a lot lately, too much maybe, just not online I guess.

Pos, oh well.

The weekend was more restful than most, with lots of time spent at home, chillin', watching Alias, enjoying the sudden burst of cool weather and rain that broke what turned out not to be a bad summer in Austin after all. I mean, allergies are a bitch (my eyes! My goddamned eyes!), but it wasn't nearly as hot this year as most summers. So thank you, forces of nature.

An Xl Blog entry is coming soon, and it's really long, so I'll pimp that when it's posted. For now, I'll just say that I was completely remiss in not telling you folks about the Nushank show that was happening Friday night called "De Dos Tierras." I knew I was going, I just forgot to mention it here. It was fantastic, though. A good mix of theater, film and music that most of LCP showed up for. There was drinking and dancing after and gente got down. Good, good times. Go see their next show.

Let's see, what else... I really, really like cottage cheese. Not just a little. A damn lot. Today, I was eating lunch (soup in a can, sexy) and I thought to myself, "This meal needs something. Chips, some bread, something." Unless it's gourmet soup or bisque or chowder, soup (especially watery chicken and noodles) just doesn't sit well by itself. I looked around the breezeway, over at the salad bar and had a flash: cottage cheese. Some fucking cottage cheese would be the ideal way to go here.

$1.08 later, I was digging into a sizable 5 oz. styrofoam cup full of cottage cheese that seemed to blend into the foam like it was meant to be there. That meal was now styling. Mmm cottage cheese. Love me some of that.

The piece Diane and I wrote on Friday about John Ritter is up.