A Post There That Wasn't There Before

  I got sick the day after Thanksgiving, and so as I lay there convinced I was dying I rewatched Beauty and the Beast and rediscovered why it's my favorite Disney movie ever and Belle my favorite princess. I haven't seen it fully in years, but it hadn't lost any of the hold it had on me before I got a sore throat and stomach virus at the same time. 
  Oh, and by the way, to add insult to illness, when I woke up at five-thirty Sunday morning and decided that I needed to puke, I went running into the bathroom--literally. The hallway was so dark and I was so sick that half of me went in and half of me slammed into the doorway. But back to Belle. 
  Belle is, and has consistently been, my favorite Disney princess by far throughout my life. She's brunette, she reads, and she teaches a hideous monster to love again. Girl power!
  The story of Beauty and the Beast is, as my friend Melvin so eloquently put it, "a beautiful story," and each time I watch it I find that I love it more and more. This weekend alone I watched it two times and roped my family into watching The Enchanted Christmas with me, and I've decided that I'm watching it again on Friday because, thank God, we're off from school. And my throat's finally feeling better, so I might--just might--be able to sing along with "Be Our Guest" or "Something There That Wasn't There Before" or "Human Again" (special edition, suckers!!!). 
  And I have no idea, truly, who Robby Benson is, except that he's the dude who sounds like a demon throughout most of the movie. And that he's possibly the best voice they could have picked for Beast (yeah, it ticks me off that Belle's prince doesn't have a name). I also liked that everybody did their own singing, because usually in Disney movies the credits have a voice and then a singing voice although, I have to admit, most of the time they do sound incredibly alike. Sometimes scarily so. I didn't know that wasn't Matthew Broderick singing in The Lion King until, like, two months ago. Honestly. 
  And I have made it a goal in life to have an entire room--whenever I get a house--devoted to Beauty and the Beast stuff; I want to be a collector. 
  At least it's not heads, or cats, or Chihuahuas, or those creepy dolls whose glass eyes seem to follow you across the room whenever you have to walk right by them. There's lots of worse things to collect. Leave me alone.

 
 

Give Me Nightmares Before Christmas

  Have you guys ever heard possibly the creepiest Christmas song of all time? No? Well, I hadn't either, not until I heard Louis Armstrong's "Zat You, Santa Claus?" And while the song has one redeeming quality that I shall tell you at the end of this strange, eerie journey, without it it would be one freaking insane song. 
  In case you haven't guessed yet, this is one of my father's favorite Christmas songs and he taped the lyrics of it to my door to bother me. So let's deconstruct this line by line and verse by verse, shall we?

"Zat you, Santa Claus?
Gifts I'm preparin'
For some Christmas sharin'
But I pause because
Hangin' my stockin'
I can hear a knockin'
'Zat you, Santa Claus?"

• Recap: The man in the song is hanging his stocking and he hears someone knocking. All right. Not too creepy yet, right? It gets worse. 

"Sure is dark out
Not the slighest spark out
Pardon my clackin' jaws
Uh, who there?
Who is it?
Uh, stoppin' for a visit
'Zat you, Santa Claus?"

• Recap: The man is now getting nervous. And it's really dark out. Scared yet?

"Are you bringin' a present for me?
Something pleasantly pleasant for me?
That's what I've been waitin' for
Would you mind slippin' it under the door?"

• Recap: The man asks Santa to drop his presents there and leave. Strike one? Santa didn't go down the chimney, and the man didn't say that he doesn't have one. 

"Four winds are howlin'
Or maybe that be growlin'
My legs feel like straws
Oh my, my, me, my
Kindly would you reply
'Zat you, Santa Claus?
Yeah

Oh hangin' my stockin'
I can hear a knockin'
'Zat you, Santa Claus?

Yeah, say now
Hey there, who is it
Stoppin' for a visit?
'Zat you, Santa Claus?"

• Recap: The man hears growling outside. Growling. Last time I checked, reindeer don't growl--and neither does Santa. Crapped yet? Hold on... 

"Whoa there Santa you gave me a scare
Now stop teasin' 'cause I know you're there
We don't believe in no goblins today
But I can't explain why I'm shakin' this way"

• Recap: The man is trying to convince himself it's Santa outside, not a "goblin." And yet he's still shaking...

"Well, I see old Santa in the keyhole
I'll give to the cause
One peek and I'll try there
Uh-oh there's an eye there
'Zat you, Santa Claus?"

• Recap: THE MAN SEES AN EYE IN THE KEYHOLE! SANTA KNOWS IF YOU'RE AWAKE OR ASLEEP--HE DOESN'T NEED TO BE A CREEPER ABOUT IT! PLUS, WHAT IF THE MAN IN THE HOUSE WASN'T STANDING BY THE DOOR? "SANTA" WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO SEE HIM! SO IT'S JUST A GUY LOOKING IN!!! I JUST CRAPPED MY PANTS!

"Please, please
I pity my knees
Say that's you Santa Claus"

• Recap: Now the man's not asking anymore; he's begging the creeper person outside to say he's Santa. Instead of...what? A creeper? 

  All right, so you're probably a little skeeved right now. An eye, growling, knocking...Anybody would be. I forgive you the huge pee stain on the front of your pants, Whizzy. But here's the good news: redeeming quality time!

  The end of the song usually gets cut off on the radio, because the music goes on for several seconds more and that's time the DJ could spend talking about his failing liver or playing commercials. But by cutting that out, they also cut out the last line of the song, which thankfully goes: "That's him, all right!" 

  So, thank God, it's not a murderer out to whack Satchmo; it's Santa. A creeper Santa, but still Santa. So that's good news. But I couldn't have found this out a year ago, the first and only time I heard the song from what I thought was beginning to end, and spared myself the endless terror? 

  But that's why I did this today, Second Chancers. So I could spare you the endless terror and pee-stained pants that have tormented me for a year now. I hope I've done my job. 

  And you might want to stop shaking, Frosty. It's over now. Satchmo's safe. 

  He's also dead, but not because of Santa. I'm pretty sure.  

 

Turkey on White, Turkey on Rye, the Word NiteOwl Only Has One "I"...

  Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, fools, so eat up! I know I will. I'm making the mac-and-cheese for our family dinner; I did it last year and, surprisingly, nobody died of food poisoning. Oh, and they liked it. I would have been just satisfied with nobody keeling over, but that they liked it made it even better. I'm more of a baker than a chef, if you really care (which I have the feeling you don't. But I'm the one writing this thing, so it doesn't really matter). 
  I just wanted to say that I hope you all have a safe, fun, happy Thanksgiving and that I feel so sorry for you people stuck with that crappy traveling situation. I'm not, because my grandmother lives barely twenty minutes from our "apartment community." But don't think I'm rubbing it in, because your NiteOwl would never do that (all right, maybe a little). 
  Just remember the story of Thanksgiving: Once upon a time, people came from England to America and met some Indians, and John Smith met one who taught him to sing with all the voices of the mountains and paint with all the colors of the wind--
  Wait, that's not it? Oh. That's the plot of Pocahontas, sorry. Maybe Linus can explain it better than I can.
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjqTxqQJM2w
  Eat turkey and pie, watch football, gain fifty pounds in five minutes, and be thankful for whatever you feel like being thankful for! Me? I'm thankful for family, the internet, YouTube, the circle of life, chocolate, World's Dumbest, and pie! Here's to not poisoning your family, to stuffing our faces and sleeping for ten hours straight! Hizzah! Hallelujah! Thank you, Indians! Thanks to everybody who made this day possible! Thank you and good night! 

The Blue Corn Moon

  No, I have no idea when that is. I'm just quoting "Colors of the Wind" from Disney's Pocahontas (if you don't like this movie, stop reading this post now.). I had the pleasure of watching it over the weekend, and I rediscovered yet another reason Disney made my childhood wonderful. It's still a great movie. 
  Now, Dad doesn't like it, meaning that instead of it being able to be part of our Watch All the Classic Disney Movies campaign, I had to watch it alone in my room on my mini DVD player. But that's okay, now that I think about it. Dad would have totally ruined the experience for me by teasing me about how it's really me and John Enos or something stupid like that, like he ruined "A Whole New World" from Aladdin for me. But back to Pocahontas....
  I liked it, even though some of the beginning skipped because it was a library DVD and I ended up missing when Pocahontas and her dad were talking and he gave her her mother's necklace. But, thankfully, I didn't miss "Just Around the Riverbend" or "Colors of the Wind" or, basically, anything else after that. I completely forgot how funny Flit and Meeko (and, later, Percy) was. I don't know how that's possible, but somehow, I did...and yes, I did cry at the end, when John Smith was being carried away on his ship and Pocahontas ran to the cliff and they did the whole goodbye-wavy-arm thing. If you think about it, she was the only Disney princess who didn't get her happily ever after. Yeah, I know she married John Rolfe, but we all know she loved John Smith the best.
  And yes, Grandmother Willow is a real historical character. The real Pocahontas often spoke to a tree that talked back to her. Didn't you know that?  

We Got Spirit? Yes, We Do! We Got Spirit? How 'Bout You? No.

  Well, on the Friday before Halloween we had our first pep rally of the school year. And can I just say it was even worse than the last one of last year? And you know how I feel about that one.
  Cheering your own class? No. Exciting games that kept us interested? Except for maybe tug-of-war, nope. Interesting musical performances? Please. The color guards' flags weren't even in our school colors. And they're the flags we use in competitions and stuff. Yeah. Way to go, color guard. You rock. Booing the freshmen? Please.
   It was, honestly, torture. I would have rather been in class, because my last two periods of the day that that horrible pile-of-crap pep rally stole from me and I shall never be able to reclaim again are basically easy classes that I have fun in. Thanks, "pep" rally. You have sucked my soul dry. I didn't even know there was anything left to suck. 
  I was so bored that I just started booing everybody. I nearly started writing, except there wasn't really any elbow room. I was already disassociated from my class because I wasn't wearing my class color, green, like everybody else surprisingly was. I don't think that anybody else wasn't wearing green. It was freaky. And I made sure to wear blue, a color that no other class had, because I didn't want to support anybody. I announced to my leprechaun friends at the rally that I was going to make a T-shirt that read "You All Suck" and wear it to the next one. They loved the idea and I'm going to do it. So what if the administration will find it offensive? Maybe they'll through me out and I won't have to sit through another hunk-of- crap rally. Now that's an idea worth cheering....
 

Freddy vs. Jason 3: It's Not Over Yet

  Last week, my brother went on his blog for the first time in months, and what does he do? He goes on a rant disputing my rant about the two muchachos named above. All right, fine. If he wants to play it this way, then SO BE IT. His destruction hath been wrought by his own hand. So sayeth NiteOwl. So let it be typed, so let it be done.

  Here's what he so eloquently wrote (and yes, he also stole my title for the post, the rip-off artist; all misspellings and grammatical errors have been copied verbatim from the original and will be underlined, to give you readers a chuckle): 

Fist of all, i'm sorry that i was away for so long and i appreciate whoever is still reading this. Now, i just read my sister's blog and i must say, i wish she would just shut the f*** up because i like Jason better then Freddy Cougar- i mean Kruger. Hey F*** Face, (that's what i'm going to call you from now on live with it) has it ever occurred to you that Kruger is the name of George's boss on Seinfeld? I mean, i cant take FK seriously anymore. Not that i ever did. I mean, come on. If Jacky Earle Haley played Jason, you'd be all over him like stink on a monkey (come to think of it, FK probably smells like one too). Anyway, Freddy blows. He has to wait until you fall asleep so he can kill you. Jason doesn't. He can kill you whenever he wants. So ha. And a machete totally beats the sh** out of a gardener's glove with a few sharp things on it. Oooh. If i had a face like Freddy's i'd have to hide in shame. I would suggest a hockey mask but that was already taken by a good horror movie character. I know i was a Freddy fan but i switched to Jason, but how does that make me a band wagoner? I'm just curious. (and totally off topic, i would just like to say that i am dissapointed in the Scream movies. I thought he was a ghost type thingy. But he turned out to be a dude in a mask. But i digress) I admit that the movie Jason X was silly but most movie series have bad movies. Take Star Wars episode II: Attack of the Clones for example. Ew. So to conclude all this, in the epic battle of Freddy vs Jason, the man with the mask will emerge victorious.
  Beautiful, ain't it? He really put my in my place. Now let me put him in his. 
  First of all (see, I can spell "first" correctly--that's an immediate point for me), he spelled "Krueger" wrong. Usually when you tear into somebody, you make sure you can spell their name right so you don't look like an idiot. It's not that hard. Just Google it, dude. Jeez. 
  Also, you might want to make sure you can spell the name of the actor right, too. And you don't even have to Google that one, dude. It's scattered all over my blog. 
  So what if "Krueger" is the name of George's boss? "Vorhees" is also the name of a town here in Jersey. And a car dealership.
  I never said Freddy smells good, dude. He probably smells like overcooked bacon or something. So that doesn't bother me, if that was supposed to.
  As I recall, in at least one of his movies, Freddy does step back into the real world for a bit. And in the ending of the new one, where he jumps out of the mirror and kills a girl's mom. And it's not the fact that he can't kill you in waking life that's amazing, but the fact that he can go into your dreams and make you kill yourself like he did with the kid who plays Emmett Cullen is. Can Jason do that? Goal for me (insult to injury). 
  Freddy does not hide in shame (unlike J-Vor). And he doesn't have to. He puts his ugly face out there to terrify the living crap out of you. That's a true horror movie villain, one who shoves his ugly face right into yours and says "This is who I am and, like it or not, you're about to get killed by me." 
  You're right. I shouldn't have said that you're a "bandwagoner." I should have said that you are a flip-flop fan who has no real attachment to your chosen horror-movie killer and will switch sides without a second sequel thought. 
  When you're ranting about something, you really shouldn't go off and rant about something else entirely. It just makes you seem insane. Which you are anyway. But still. They don't need to know that. 
  I never said that the Freddy movies were Oscar movies, bro. I just said that Freddy is better than Jason. 
  Episode II is not crap. 
  So to conclude all this, just saying that your guy will win doesn't mean he will. In your stupid and grammatically incorrect ramble, you didn't give one concrete reason that Jason is better than Freddy. Yeah, sure, maybe it was Jason holding Freddy's severed head at the end (?) of their rumble in Hell, but it was Freddy who winked at the camera. As I am winking now at your utter failure, like I have a piece of pulp in my eye. 
  *Wink wink wink*
   
   

Dog Food

  Hello, people; I'm back! You probably...didn't even notice I was gone, huh? Either that, or you were getting ticked off that I wasn't posting. Well, I'll tell ya why: I was trying to get published. No dice yet, but I'm hoping for something by the end of the year. I'm posting now to let you know that a.) I'm not dead in my nest and b.) I'm having a domestic issue that I want to let you guys know about.

  You may be wondering why, exactly, this post is called "Dog Food," considering I don't have a dog (I probably would, except that our "apartment community" charges you extra rent if you have a pet of any kind. Even a gerbil or fish. Dang "apartment community"). It's because we are going to start rewatching all the old Disney animated movies at my house--Saturday we watched Aladdin, and yes, I smiled like a drunken romantic sea lion all through "A Whole New World" like I used to, and Abu was still as monkey-awesome as you remember--, and Dad and I disagree on a few (he likes Cinderella and I don't; I like Sleeping Beauty and he can't stand it--we could have a real debate on this stuff if he would ever get around to POSTING AGAIN ON HERE...hint hint, Dad), and the largest one is Lady and the Tramp. He refuses to watch it.

  I love Lady and the Tramp. "Pidge," "Miss Laaaady-ma'am," the spaghetti-and-meatballs thing (but that might just be because I'm flaming Italiano), all of it. Dad...doesn't. I don't know why; he just doesn't like it. And that would be fine because I'm a firm believer that everybody is entitled to their own opinion on things, except that because he's Dad and he doesn't like it, we're not watching it. I mean, I barely squeaked Pocahontas by him, and that's a fifty/fifty chance on that one. He might just make me watch it on my own. But because he likes Bambi, we're watching it at some point. And it's not that I don't like Bambi, because I do, but I don't feel like crying my eyes out like a drunken depressed sea lion, which I always have and always will do when I watch it. 

  Peg? The Siamese cats? The spaghetti and meatballs? How can you not want to watch it? Or at least go through with it for your daughter, who is going to go through Bambi for you?

  Now I'm a drunken angry sea lion. Roar.