A good weekend ... Lori and I actually went to the fuckin' mall on Saturday, like real people do, and bought pillows at Target. We took a long, healthy walk to Ballard to drink in a trendy wine bar (in which everything was made out of white plastic, including the patrons) with a batch of librarians that we never actually caught up with, thanks to a few inexact text messages. Times rehearsal on Sunday was a bit sluggish, but we also started clearing debris out of Kate's backyard in preparation for our August 25th recital (details of which are forthcoming).

But most of the weekend revolved around a spectacular boxset of films I grabbed Friday afternoon. Fifty films for fifteen bucks, and fifteen of the titles I knew right off the bat were jake ... lotsa Spanish sleaze like the incredible Voodoo Black Exorcist, Trauma, Werewolf Vs. The Vampire Woman and Vengeance of the Zombies -- Oriental-flavored blaxploitation via TNT Jackson and period-piece funk courtesy of Jive Turkey and Black Hooker -- the unique German television thriller Spare Parts -- an utterly maddening Mickey Rooney overdose called The Manipulator -- bottom-feeding classics like Don't Look In The Basement!, Invasion of the Bee Girls and the Santa-slaying British slasher Don't Open Til Christmas -- retitled Italian shockers courtesy of Dario Argento, and much more, including a few titles I've covered in the past like Legacy of Blood and Snowbeast. Many hours were spent trolling through this fine collection, and I've barely cracked the surface. Best find so far has got to be Wisconsin auteur Bill Rebane's 1987 action comedy Twister's Revenge, which steals the Knight Rider talking-car conceit and uses it for a monster truck.

It's been refreshing to be without internet at home. We can steal a little wifi now and again, but otherwise we're connection-free. So to all I owe emails to, I'll be a bit more diligent during the week when I have work-related internet access. Maybe I'll even start using the phone again ...