I don’t think there’s any way Milton will be able to convince Brad to see a documentary about yams. I’d watch one, though. I’d be all over it.
On second thought, I’d probably just watch whatever superhero thing they do next.
As Christmas draws ever near, I can’t help but think back to one of my favorite memories from last year.
I was goofing around with a remote control Hot Wheels based on the Tumbler from the recent Batman movies (someone knows me very well). The cats were going particularly insane at the thing; I think because it was about the size and speed of a mouse. They got so fixated on it that they failed to notice each other and collided in the center of Georgia’s playroom.
Georgia, who was one year old at the time, was so delighted at the spectacle, she ran to the center of the room and started dancing with all her might. It was then that I realized the best Christmases involve dancing and getting a few bumps and bruises.
It would appear that Brad’s taste in film isn’t quite aligned with Milton’s. Well, to each his own.
Personally, I never considered myself a film snob. I like any type of movie whether it’s action, drama, comedy, even a chick flick, so long as it’s entertaining. And I probably love all kinds of movies that stuffy film critics would consider to be horrible … like Troll 2.
What about you? Ever been to a film festival? Are they worth it?
It’s impossible to fill Hazel’s heart meter.
I can put her on my lap for hours at a time, pet her all day long and play with her, but the second I turn away for a second, she’s following me through the house grumbling at me because I’m not giving her enough attention.
Whoever said cats are independent obviously never had a Hazel.