Turf Marking

All original material, except otherwise explicitly stated, is under this:
Creative Commons License
Creative Commons License
MMIII-MMVII
Warm Fuzzy Freudian Slippers, Ltd.
*Other People's Blogs

FYI

Things you need to know:
  • Some posts, or the links they contain, are NSFW. This is your only warning.
  • This blog serves the cause of my freedom of speech, not yours. I wield censorship like a 10 year-old boy who just found his father's handgun.
Powered By Blogger

Thursday, September 02, 2004

A couple of evenings ago, I introduced E to Saturday Night Fever which she had never seen in its entirety. We've introduced a whole new set of in-jokes to our vernacular ("He's a sleazy HOO-er."). Ah, to have been Italian living in New York in the '70s.

I hadn't seen it in awhile myself, so I'd almost forgotten what sort of story it was. E and I both admired the simplicity of the cinematography, not to mention the actors, none of which could ever score a movie in this day and age. They all look too ordinary, not like anorexic Greek gods and goddesses.

0 comments: