Jennifer Crusie | Argh Ink | Blog

The story behind the firemen is up on Lucy March. With a picture.
Also, I am not a pimp. Pimps take money. I help for free.

I love movie posters. I must have a dozen of my faves framed, and there are a lot more than those that attain the level of art. But a lot of the time, they’re just misleading. A bad one can kill a good movie–some idiot put a giant thumb on the Innerspace poster and millions of people missed one of the funniest movies ever, plus Dennis Quaid, nude from behind–and a good one can become iconic overnight. The worst ones, though, are the ones that lie to you. College Humor revised some posters for some of the Oscar-nominated films this year so moviegoers would know what they were plunking down their cash for. Most of them are good (“Don’t bring a date. Seriously.”) but this one made me laugh because I’m such a Pixar groupie:
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News Flash: Mona has a new look. Go to LucyMarch.com to check out her summer style. And while you’re there, if you’re a good writer and want to be a better one, check out Lucy’s Story Wonk page. Discovery and revision classes are opening now for June, and she really is a terrific teacher.

And now back to my slacker-i-ness:

So not even close to my 10K goal but still some progress. In my defense, I revised a huge collage presentation for National, read my Rita books, researched diners, worked on the Lavender collage, did two month’s worth of laundry, watched Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang, and spent Monday afternoon separating Lucy/Lani from some firefighters. No, really, she has pictures and she’s going to put them up Thursday, I believe.

The good news is that since I have to report them here, I did put on a burst of speed at the end of the week while trying to find tax documents that Mollie’s needed for weeks. So the whole Monday Ticker this is working. Sort of.

Onward and upward in that word count.

Addendum: That damn Lucy March is at just over 30,000 words, and she’s upstairs writing now. Perhaps if I try to catch up. Not that I’m competitive or anything but, you know, just as an incentive . . .

Lani and I have not had a good couple of days–hey, they can’t all be keepers–so tonight we sat down with Chinese food and a movie. We have a basket of movies-we-meant-to-watch DVDs, and I had this vague idea of going through these not-new-releases and doing reviews here on Argh for the ones I like (because what’s the point of beating on something you don’t like; you don’t like it, don’t talk about it), and tonight, Lani pulled one out and said, “Him,” “him” being Robert Downey, Jr. So we watched Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang and now we’re chipper again because the movie was terrific.

I’m not a big fan of post-modernism, but when meta is done right, I love it, and this movie gets it right. It begins with a narrator, which I hate in movies, with a blustering faux-noir voice, which I loved immediately. He’s Harry Lockhart, he’s a petty thief, he’s Robert Downey, Jr, and he’s in way over his head. Also, remarkably disorganized as a narrator: read more >>

Courtesy of Rox, who, as always, rocks, is this video from the treadmill-dancing OK Go guys. It’s just . . . well, you have to see it:

Thank you, Rox, who got it from her husband, Michael, who also rocks.

And if you haven’t seen the amazing treadmill video, it’s here. I think they smash the television because they’d like to move past that one, but really, it’s one of the best music videos of all time, although I will say the new one is even better.

Have a good day, and if not, this too shall pass. Because this video says so, that’s why.