Seconded. My dad was a “Sunday driver” in the sense that after church, he and my mom and I would go on long, meandering drives through the wilds of Chester County PA with no destination in mind—he’d purposefully get “lost” and we found wonders. I remember once during a summer drive we came upon a thicket of…

Brienne. Not Brianne. SER FUCKING BRIENNE OF TARTH.

Also profit.

I’ve always said that the only people who should buy beachfront homes are the people who can afford to lose those homes. It’s a matter of “when,” not “if.”

His little “oo” at the end just slays me.

But what does Brienne of Tarth want? The last 10 seconds of this interview makes me laugh SO HARD.

Reading 11/22/63 was like discovering a beloved, terminally ill friend had miraculously recovered. I hate-read most of King’s later books and planned on doing the same with 11/22/63 but it’s just fucking amazing. People point to Under the Dome (a bloated mess) as an example of King’s ability to produce literary…

The other scene that is nightmare fuel but utterly plausible is the horror show of Gage’s memorial (not a viewing—it had to be closed casket, remember?) The father-in-law melting down, the fistfight, the casket falling and showing just a little bit of Gage’s arm, and the final blow of Rachel showing up just in time to…

Another King novel, Revival, is even more bleak (IMHO). It’s overlong but engaging, and you really get to know and care about the characters he ends up torturing. Many of his other books scared me more, but Revival...bothered me more than just about any book I’ve ever read. I think of death as being nothing more than…

YES! My thought exactly! “Why...why is David S. Pumpkins? Oh, who cares why, I’m just glad he IS.”

My scary-movie buddy and I are going on Sunday, and TBH I’m a little nervous—from what I’ve read “Us” is scary AF and we both tend to scream like howler monkeys at jump scares. I fear that one of these times we’re going to get ejected from the theater.

Perhaps you should focus on your perimeter work, good sir

The Twitter comments on this are fire. worth a look.

MM, I am right there with you. IMHO, a real friend volunteers to help you (and trusts you not to take advantage). The other day I shared with a friend that I had to go to a funeral that was going to be especially hard. That’s it, I just said “This is going to be a really bad one.” And unsolicited, she said, “Do you…

This is my favorite thing in the history of all things.

I have “divorced” several friends who started to act as if I was nothing more than their personal concierge/chauffeur/computer tech/person of all work. And I keep repeating to myself “I will not set myself on fire so others can stay warm.” But it took decades for me to not feel like a piece of shit for saying “No.” A…

All I can see is murder in his eyes. Oh, and the fact that he’s abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous. 

That’s about the same as the zoo in my home town. I remember standing outside the jaguar enclosure, with the fence, a little hedge, and the cage itself separating me from the jaguar—we were maybe 8-10' apart. He was just lazing on a big suspended log, his tail going swish, swish. Our eyes met and at that moment I…

I live about two blocks away from the Delaware Bay, and that movie had the same effect on me as Jaws did way back in 1975—I would walk on the beach but I would NOT go into the water. And the body horror was so intimate and horrific—it preyed on my mind for months (prolly b/c I watched it 4 times in the course of 2…

I like Facebook. I use it to post wry observations (and enjoy the same as posted by my very witty friends), coo over UPS Dogs, and keep up with local arts and entertainment events. Oh, and watch my nephews and nieces grow up from afar. I would no sooner look to FB for news than I would look to the Westboro Baptist…