There's a frickin' shock

I came up as an Intellectual...

http://www.helloquizzy.com/tests/how-will-you-survive-a-horror-film-test

I must get it from somewhere...

I was reminiscing about 80's movies earlier today. Specifically, watching The Karate Kid in the theatre with my parents.

You all remember the triumph scene, right? Ralph Macchio crane kicks the hell out of William Zabka, winning the championship in the process. As good ole Ralph celebrates with Mr. Miyagi, poor William realizes that his evil dojo master is the losing horse after all, and with tears in his eyes, congratulates and hugs our Karate Kid.

And in the middle of this touching melodrama, my mother yells out (as if Ralph can hear her), "Kick him in the face!"

Similarly, last year after we watched Pan's Labyrinth she told us her favorite part of the movie was when the maid, who was actually working with the rebels, tells the Captain that his son will never even know his (the Captain's) name.

Which makes me wonder...how did my Mom get such amusing anger issues in dealing with fiction?

Rest in Peace, My Pretty Pony...

This is my favorite photo of My Pretty Pony, otherwise known as Cesar. He was an English Mastiff, 200 lbs and 9 years old.

His Mom had to call an emergency transport service on Sunday morning to take him to the vet, where it was decided that the humane thing to do would be to put him to sleep.

I'll miss him horribly, but I'm sure his parents will miss him more.

Sleep sweet, big guy, and I hope heaven is full of all the doggy treats you could want.