And here, just when I thought I'd never mention Jay Cutler on this blog again, his wife says that he sucked, quote, "harder than he's ever sucked before."

The joke writes itself.

If you can't see the joke as told by Stephen Colbert via YouTube above, try it at The Draw Play dot com.

Don't ever change, Jay.

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More movies watched in April.

48. (1487.) What's Up, Doc? (1972)
The biggest problem with this callback to the screwball comedies of the 1930s is Barbara Streisand. Not only is her character about as charming as nails on a chalkboard, I just don't buy her as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Something about her on-screen presence really, really rubs me the wrong way. The net effect of this film was just to remind me that I could be watching the much better movies that inspired it instead.

49. (1488.) Ace Ventura: Pet Detective Jr. (2009)
Speaking of movies that make you wish you were watching the movies that inspired them: don't watch this. Jim Carrey makes the originals work, and his absence here is painfully glaring.

50. (1489.) Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016)
I'm on the fence about this one. It's charming in its way, but it is somehow simultaneously stale. Perhaps I'm just weary of Tim Burton's aesthetic. Hrm. Maybe it's me. I can see myself watching this again one day.

51. (1490.) Lifeforce (1985)
Space vampires! This feels like a Hammer horror, which I suspect was the goal.

52. (1491.) Jour de Fete (1949)
Jacques Tati's first full length film is a delight. It occurred to me about halfway through that general tone of Tati's films is what Roberto Benigni's Life is Beautiful was trying to replicate in the late 90s. I hated Life is Beautiful because the protagonist is an inherently selfish lout. Tati's protagonists maybe oblivious and occasionally rude, but they are never unlikable. I wish someone had pointed me towards Tati sooner.

More to come.

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Some people craft quilts or give soup to the homeless to feel better about themselves. I painted some miniatures.

Believe it or not, it was not something I had done before. I wish I could explain how satisfying I found the experience.

I think maybe I need to paint more often. Not houses or canvases, mind you. Just tiny little pieces of plastic.

I'm sure it's what Renoir would have done if he'd known about Dungeons and Dragons.

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According to every media broadcast I've heard for the past week, something called Game of Thrones is starting its final season on Sunday night. Good riddance.

Yes, I have seen an episode. Exactly one, in fact. I saw the first episode back when it first aired. (It feels like that was sometime last century.) I hated every character in it and decided I wasn't interested in spending any more time with any of those rat bastards. I hear most of them died by the end of season one. Good riddance.

I distinctly recall that the finale of the last zeitgeist-capturing HBO series, The Sopranos, had disappointed fans crying foul. I look forward to the inevitable media blitz of disappointment over The Thrones Game failures. Good riddance!

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Mom woke me up early because she couldn't turn on the television. The cause? Dead batteries in the remote control.

Dad complained that his washing machine was leaking water all over this pantry floor. The problem? The intake hose, which he had connected himself, was too loose and was spraying water everywhere.

No wonder my brother excommunicated himself from the family.

In 2003, co-worker Jeff showed me a lighter he couldn't get to work. I took it from him and tried it myself. It was a joy buzzer. Jeff laughed at me and said, "I knew you'd fall for it. All anyone has to do is tell Walter that they can't do something, and he'll do it for them."

Jeff, wherever you are now, know that you're still right. I'm still a sucker.

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