I have nothing to do with this photo:



In fact, I'm mad at Pineapple Girl for introducing it to my consciousness. Damn you, Pina! Damn you and your lime-hatted cat picture!

My review of Cat in the Hat is up. I was probably being charitable with the two stars.

First came this spam subject line:

Want to work from home?

Well, yes. Yes I do.

30 seconds later, I got this one:

Want to have stronger orgasms?

Is there a trick there? Of course I do!

But wait. Do I have to choose one or the other? Can I work from home and have stronger orgasms? Is this an either/or proposition? Because, frankly, the ones I'm having at work just aren't doing it for me.

Write me and let me know. You know where to find me, Spam King.

I bitch a lot about working in an office all day, but some things almost make it worth it: Like the (week before) Thanksgiving Day potluck. My goodness. This roundup is brought to you by Pok-e-Jo's smoked turkey and Agonippe's whiskey-drenched chocolate pecan pie.

The Cat in the Hat: I'm not putting Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat as the title because the film is about 5 percent Dr. Seuss and 95 percent big-studio/Mike Myers bullshit. My full review runs tomorrow (I'll link to it when it's up) and I wasn't as harsh as I could have been, but make no mistake: This is not a good movie.

Elephant: Gus Van Sant is one of those directors that I like from afar. I haven't really seen a lot of his movies except Drugstore Cowboy and Good Will Hunting, but his films always at least sound like movies I'd like. This one's no different. I think there's a lot more to say about Columbine that hasn't been said and I'm happy someone with talent is trying to turn something incomprehensible into art.

Gothika: I'm always up for a good, creepy psychological thriller, but so few good ones are made that it gets hard not to get too suspicious of a movie that tries to look so scary. After her last SNL appearance, I'm also still not convinced that Halle Berry is a good, or even competent actress. I did see most of Monster's Ball and she was pretty great in that, but that's the only movie I've seen where it didn't feel like she was being talked-through every scene with an unseen earpiece. Unsurprisingly, this movie is getting awful reviews, including one review that brought up the unholy film "B*A*P*S." Dude, you really gotta hate a movie to bring up "B*A*P*S."

Shattered Glass: I really want to see this movie. Unlike some professions where the people in it don't like to see movies made about their trade (like say, um... damn, I can't think of anyone. Lawyers? Strippers, maybe?), I think journalists love to see their stories up on the big screen. The problem is, with the exception of The Paper, very few movies get at what it's like to work in a newsroom. This one sounds great, it's getting fantastic reviews, and it doesn't sound like a glorification of Glass (who sounds like a repugnant person at best) at all.

The Station Agent: I loved, loved, loved this movie. I saw it Monday night and it's just wonderful. It reminded us a lot of Lost in Translation in its themes, but it's much warmer and cuddlier and I don't mean that in a bad way at all. Mostly it's the talent of the three lead actors, Peter Dinklage (the dwarf), Patricia Clarkson (the older lady who as one of my co-workers said, is unaccountably hot in this movie) and Bobby Cannavale, who I used to recap on Third Watch. Everybody is in top form here, the movie is sweet and heartfelt and not at all sentimental or smarmy. You just want to take this movie home and love it and hug it forever. Highly recommended.

Stoked: The Rise and Fall of Gator: There's already been one really good skateboarding documentary, Dogtown and Z-Boys, so another one so soon might seem redundant, but this one is about one guy who became a star, then murdered a friend of an ex-girlfriend. It's basically the E! True Hollywood Story about skateboarding. I dunno. I have a feeling I'd feel really dirty after I watched it. I do remember Gator decks, though, back when he was really popular.

Wow, I guess that's it. The conclusion is: Go see Station Agent if it's playing near you.

DVDs: I finally saw Bend it Like Beckham, which I really liked. This weekend, I'm trying to see T3, Raising Victor Vargas and maybe catch back up on those Alias episodes. Frida sits on the TV, neglected, uni-browed, sad.

A good chunk of my day was spent thinking and writing about Dr. Seuss and Mike Myers, being part of a job evaluation (mercifully not my own this time) and then going to get a Pina Kowlada Jamba Juice. I hadn't had a Jamba Juice in about two months; I got kind of squirrely about the carbs, even though at this late stage of the game, worrying about carbs is kind of silly. I'm not on Atkins, and it seems that being half on Atkins is worse than not dieting at all. You sort of avoid carbs but then you're also wolfing down as much fat (if not more) than usual thinking it's okay, then wondering why your belt feels like a pinky ring.

I'm sad and tired today. I haven't been sleeping well lately and I feel like there's not much time for anything. I went to a movie I'm reviewing last night, then I caught up on Gilmore Girls and before I knew it, it was 2 a.m. and time to go to sleep, but I still needed to finish up laundry and give Oscar his antibiotic. (Oscar doesn't like his antibiotic. It makes for some funny human-cat interactions.)

Mostly I'm just overwhelmed. I haven't even thought much about the holidays yet, but I have a stack of things I need to do, lists I need to compile, games I need to play (for work, seriously), messes in the house I need to clean up, errands I need to run, bills I need to pay. It's very monotonous, boring stuff, most of it, and also unavoidable. I'm awful with the time management, but even if I were aces at it, I think I'd still be pressed for time, wary of committing to anything more than a few hours in duration, worried.

The sucky part is that the side of me that's sad about this is living with the part of me that's pretty happy and content right now. Things are going pretty well. I'm writing some stuff I'm really proud of (not this, necessarily; this is just whiny), I'm on financially stable ground for the first time all year, I'm not overly stressed at work. Things are... fine. Fine and okay. All right. Not bad. They're there.

This Jamba Juice is really good.

Run, Michael Jackson, run!

Thanksgiving can't be next week. I'm not ready, so you're just going to have to push it back.

What? You already bought a turkey?

Who told you to buy a turkey this early?

It's frozen right? Do you really think leaving it frozen another week is going to hurt it? It's FROZEN. It's a turkcicle.

All I'm saying is, I may not be there. That's all I'm saying. Look, don't take it personally! It's nothing you said or did. Well, all right, it's everything you said and did, cumulatively, for about the last five years. But don't take it personally. Nobody's perfect. Nobody in this room, at least.

What? Why is your schedule suddenly more important than mine? Just because Thursday is the day the whole country celebrates doesn't mean that we have to. Don't you care about my needs at all? I'm busy don't you get it? I'll probably be out getting your damn Christmas gift that day, if you must know. The stores are closed? Who said I was buying it at a store?

I just think you're being completely unreasonable here. So what if you miss Thanksgiving? You're just going to eat and eat and eat and I'm going to have to watch all that. You think that's easy? Why is it always about you?

Fine. Fine. All right. Fine.

I'll see you Thursday, all right? Or not. Maybe I'll see you. That turkey had better be fucking delicious.

A new recap of the Smallville "Magnetic" episode it up.

I was trying to do some organic alchemy, converting poop to entertainment.

In other news, the rabbit makes me happy.

A new XL Blog entry for y'all to vibe with.

I'm going to be the regular Monday XL Blog guy and entries are going to be posted in a more timely fashion, around 1-2 p.m every weekday. (At least what's what I'm told. I'm just towing the party line here.)

It's drizzling outside now. That's why I love Austin: hot, muggy, drizzly, crappy weather in mid-November.