Saccharine Thoughts

or: In Which I Realize I'm Getting Old. 25 years ago today, Jim Henson and George Lucas released unto the world the masterpiece that is Labyrinth. I have a very specific soft spot for this movie and all its whimsy, puppetry and overuse of a codpiece. I think tonight will consist of complaining about how unfair life is while dancing the magic dance. Won't you join me? Also, should you ever want me to love you/fear you/serve you forever, feel free to buy me this .

Just want to share this article by one foul-mouthed badass via another . It's aptly-time, not because I'm blogging teary-eyed from a Kmart parking lot (I'm not) but because today I did reach the end of my rope. Tolerance for bullshit is shot, patience and resources waning, and faith in people at an all-time low because lately, they've proven to be a royally disappointing bunch.

In the angstier periods of my life, I revert to listening to a Slacker station which I've titled 14-year-old self . As you may imagine, it consists of the scream-y pop-punk that I listened to in high school. I've been rather embarrassed lately to find that my 25-year-old self still really, really likes The Used .

via Newspaper Blackout , local writer/artist.

Swarms of Mormons, showgirls, sailors, dancing boys and nuns? Count me in!

I wrote a bit last week on defining love , and subsequently suffered a minor epiphany. A Runaway Bride moment, if you will (humor me here, and I promise to never reference a crappy late 90’s Julia Roberts movie again) . While I know how I like my eggs and all that - over easy with cheddar and avocado, thankyouverymuch - it occurred to me that some people I consider near and dear to me, may not.