givemelibby
Give Me Libby Casey or Give Me Death
givemelibby

There's an annoying guy in my office who thinks he's the king of comedy. He's rarely even the least bit funny, but the more obvious it is that one of his bits is dying, the more he commits to seeing it through to the bitter end.

John Myers Myers took 32 years to follow up his beloved lierary fantasy novel Silverlock with the somewhat less beloved The Moon's Fire Eating Daughter. It was billed as a sequel, anyhow, but it's really just kind of a return to a concept (guy ends up in land populated by scores of characters from literature, has

Ahem. NO ONE, not even Cheap Trick, ever did a song by The Move better than The Move did, and only a vermin would dare to suggest the possibility. Cheap Trick are very high on the list of bands that COULD have, in some highly theoretical ripple in the time/space continuum, but in this reality, they did not. Nor did

Having been one of only three punk fans in a high school where all my peers were Styx worshippers, I'm incapable of actually saying anything nice about them. But I do allow myself to point out that Tommy Shaw's "Girls With Guns" was a fun little entry in the Old Farts Attempt To Go New Wave genre of the early '80s

Hey now! I kind of like My Stepmother Is An Alien. It's not a comedy classic, but Kim Basinger's goofiness is pretty endearing, and it's the first time Allyson Hannigan and Seth Green shared a screen.

He was also responsible for the In-Laws remake, which lessened the good will he'd earned from me for The Craft and Dick.

A carload of my friends and I saw Used Cars (and some long-forgotten 70s soft-core satire of the art world, title unknown) at the drive-in our last weekend in high school, and we quite coincidentally parked near two cars of other people from our school. The other groups were more acquaintances than friends, but with

She definitely is stupid in the books - the show made her a lot more sympathetic, but still she was constantly deciding she knew better than everyone around her and taking unilateral action against the wishes of anyone else who would've had a say in it, and it always ended up getting her friends and relatives

The Skipper saw combat in the Pacific in WW2, which the damn Professor forced him to relive through hypnosis on a couple of different occasions.

That's true, though I wouldn't say it's a knock on Doran as a strategist so much as just underlining the futility of trying to be a strategist at all in a chaotic situation. Most of the other people who fancy themselves to be the master manipulators have also seen their plans unravel due to their own shortsighted

You are correct about tv Doran. Book Doran, though, is pretty damn cool - someone who, along with his brother, was playing the long game and was many moves ahead of every other player with pieces on the board, only to see all his schemes unravel due to the fact that he failed to take into account that everyone else

Don't give Martin any ideas. The last thing he needs is another stray thought that will lead to hundreds of pages of rabbit chasing , resulting in another subplot that he'll have to figure out how to incorporate back into the larger story in a meaningful way, which will only increase his writer's block.

Ah, I didn't recall that detail. I mainly remember Theon being all hot and bothered and how by the gods, she would make a fine salt wife. I must have formed my mental image based more on Theon's reaction than Martin's actual description of her.

When I read the books, my mental image of Asha Greyjoy was Kate Beckinsale, which is pretty much how Martin describes her. Gemma Whelan's more weathered Yara is probably a lot more believable than Martin's Sex Bomb o' the High Seas, but I had been looking forward to a much more obvious Awesome Babe in that role than

I won't name the ones whose death I'm dreading, because I seem to have a curse for soothsaying about such things. Blackstar came out on a Friday, I mentioned to a friend that "I Can't Give Everything Away" felt like Bowie was bidding farewell, and Monday morning I wake up to the news that he's gone. And that's not the

I was 16 when Curtis committed suicide. I do remember reading about it at the time, but since Joy Division albums were only trickling into the states as hard to find imports in 1980, they were just one of the multitude of bands that I would read about in Trouser Press that I would have to wait months or a year before

I like that band Matador. They used to be signed to the Lizphair label, but lately I've seen their stuff on Kurtvile or Yolatengo.

I've skipped many a concert over the decades, but the one I most regret was passing on seeing Hum and Mercury Rev in 1997 or so. Was planning to go, then at the last minute decided the couch was more enticing that night. I don't think either band ever came within 200 miles of me again.

There's a high school production of The Curious Savage that's just dying for a ten page description, sandwiched between a fifty page sequence of our hero getting a flat tire on the his way to scout out the villain's bathroom routine and a gripping scene in which a waiter gives him deliberately slow service, causing

No, no. It has indeed been available since last July, but only to people who unintentionally typed in the correct string of random letters during a web search. The album was then delivered to the lucky, if often bewildered, consumers by ravens. The album itself was in the form of a foam which was to be applied to a