Bastet

That's a pretty good brief overview of what is and isn't at stake in the complaint, and why things have transpired this way (while first acknowledging this is really bad look). I love this song (always have, and its use as Delia's theme in Personal Velocity is a bonus), and in declaring its ranking "about right" agree with this: "Another example of how the genre’s men used to be able to sing about lust without being gross or sleazy. Lord, have mercy, indeed." I'm with the outlier who says this ranking is too high, not too low: "This might be the exact moment where Williams Jr. transitioned from artist to personality, as the entire conceit of the song is play off the far superior “All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down.” When my grandpa was being A Guy, my grandma would sing the chorus of this song at him and walk away. I agree with "Funny and forward-thinking for its time, but way Too High." This is rather stunningly too low; I would say it should be somewhere around #200.

I saw all of those at the time, and the only one I'll re-watch is The Full Monty. If we're tallying, I hate Titanic; it's stunningly beautiful visually, but centering this terrific real story around a five-minute "romance" between two archetypes - one of whom is eager to be a poor woman in the 1910s, which could be excused by the fact she's only 17, except she's still on about this damn "relationship" 80+ years later - makes it profoundly stupid narratively. I'm in for the captain going down with the ship, the Strauss-like couple going out together, the third class passengers who never had a chance, the shipbuilder's horror, Molly Brown's greatness, the band playing on - there are so many interesting stories given little snippets of time, but this star-crossed lovers dreck is put center stage.

This is me. Very few people even have my cell phone number - my parents, close friends, assistant, and, only recently, my boss (she had to prove herself; before that, my assistant was the gatekeeper). They have my office and/or home number, as appropriate. If you call my office line and I am busy with something else or it's after hours, leave a message there. If you call my home line and I am working, out doing something (back in the day, ya know), or otherwise busy, leave a message there. The only reason to call my cell, or for me to place a call from my cell, is if I am en route to you and one of us needs to let the other know about a delay or change. Or if I'm on vacation and it's an emergency (an actual one, and I don't think that has ever happened). Otherwise, my cell phone is in my briefcase, purse, or car (I often have to go searching) in need of being charged, so call it under any other circumstances and you're just leaving a message I won't hear for weeks. I hate when friends who only have cell phones call for a long catch-up conversation, because there's so much "what was that, you cut out for a minute there" clarification, loud talking to compensate for the overall quality, and having to call back because of a dropped call. Landlines are so much more reliable.

That's the first one I thought of. The next was one of the weirdest and most wildly fantastic "featuring" performances: Tammy Wynette on ELF's "Justified and Ancient". Then Aretha Franklin on The Eurythmics's "Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves" I switched to pondering some great session collaborations: - Kiki Dee (who'd dueted with him on "Don't Go Breaking My Heart") sang back-up on Elton's John's "Can You Feel the Love Tonight". So did Rick Astley. - Billy Corgan played bass on a few songs on Hole's "Celebrity Skin" album (he also collaborated with Courtney Love in writing some of the songs) - Lou Gramm (Foreigner) sang back-up on several Bryan Adams songs on the Cuts Like a Knife album; they were recording in the same Vancouver studio, a couple of Adams's vocalists had called out sick, and Gramm stepped in to help the desperate young lad - Janie Frickie sang back-up on Elvis Presley's cover of "My Way" - Flea and Dave Navarro (Red Hot Chili Peppers) played bass and guitar, respectively, on Alanis Morissette's "Jagged Little Pill" - George Harrison played guitar on Belinda Carlisle's "Leave a Light On" - Linda Ronstadt and James Taylor sang back-up on Neil Young's "Heart of Gold" - Eddie Van Halen did the guitar solo on Michael Jackson's "Beat It" for free, as a favor to Quincy Jones

It's just one of the great moments in the sister dynamic - Darlene is annoyed and a little bit worried by Becky's behavior, not wanting to have a boozer for a sister when she already has to live down her nerd legacy, and tormenting her with graphic descriptions of food. But she also had put her to bed and covered for her with their parents, and when Becky is about to get nailed because Dana's mom has showed up, she takes a shot at deflecting blame onto some girl she doesn't give a shit about, an effort to protect her sister everyone can see through. It's funny in its awkwardness, and also a bit lovely. I agree, she's not very good at playing drunk, but fantastic at playing hungover - hopefully, at her age, she had no experience with the former and was just mimicking other screen performances (most of which, at least on sitcoms, aren't very accurate, so if you go broad on something already overdone, this is what results), whereas she could at least draw upon having the stomach flu or similar to play the latter.

Yep. Filming here is just a fact of life, and often an annoyance when you're trying to get someplace or park. Especially when someone is filming yet again on your university campus, and you have to take the long way around to run/bike from one class to another. But even the most jaded born-and-raised among us will squeal when our school, office, house, etc. is used in a favorite show.

I love those Billie commercials - they're an explicit response to decades worth of commercials in which razors are advertised by women "shaving" already hairless legs. (Somehow, this is not a problem in razor commercials featuring men - they shave faces with, gasp, stubble on them. Ya know, showing the product doing what it's being sold to do.) The fact women have hair on their bodies is not gross, something to be hidden from delicate eyes; body hair is as natural and normal on women as it is on men, and everyone is free to do what they please with theirs.

That embedded video played with the CC on, and according to it - which sounds correct to me (her line is clear without, his is difficult to decipher) - when she joins him on the couch, he asks, "What do you want to do tonight?" and she replies, "Honestly, I'm really tired."

I remember that being a great celebrity championship; I was rooting for Curtin, but they were all good players.

I don't know what commercial you're referring to, but if you don't want to fat shame anyone, maybe don't identify someone as a "big girl" and label her behavior unhealthy based on 20 seconds of exposure to her life (during which, I'm sure, no medical records are revealed) because she's eating ice cream - and dancing, but apparently that doesn't count.

I don't eat cereal, so when I was a kid having spent the night at a friend's house where that's what the parents served for breakfast the next day, I always asked for my cereal by itself in a bowl and my milk by itself in a glass. Floating food in milk sounds thoroughly unappealing to me.

I don't have Hulu, so I thought the only episode I'd be able to watch is the Gullah Geechee, but I found an unauthorized upload of the Las Vegas Thai community episode online. I've been to Lotus of Siam (it's terrific!), but I had no idea the history of the Thai community there; what an interesting story about the war brides. From the two episodes I saw, I agree with the poster who said Padma is a gracious guest. It's the perfect tone for this series, and you can tell it's genuine. I don't really care to fuss with creating and canceling a free trial of Hulu in order to watch the other eight episodes, but temptation may win out.

That's how long it took me to be emotionally ready; everyone has their own pace.

That has been my thought for a while. It's just so tragic he wound up in that position - what a wild series of complications. At only 41, he should have had so much life ahead of him, and now he's only ever going to exist to his son in photos/videos and the memories shared with him by all those who loved Cordero. That is incredibly sad. It sounds like his family takes comfort from having been able to be with him when he died, and that's a chance not all loved ones of COVID-19 victims got, so I'm relieved for them they at least got that in the midst of this nightmare.

The "prostitute" label makes me see red, too. So many fundamental flaws here. First and foremost, as minors they were legally incapable of consenting to sex with an adult to begin with, so cops/reporters shouldn't even be talking about what they did and did not do. But once we do start that discussion, they didn't solicit money for sex! They didn't knowingly accept a solicitation of sex for money! They accepted an offer of a massage gig (often accompanied by the promise the dude seeking a massage is a powerful philanthropist who likes to help and could become a benefactor in an educational/training pursuit that would lead them to a better life). When they got there, they were stunned, confused, and frightened by sexual abuse at the hands of an older, wildly wealthy and powerful man who blatantly and calmly stated he's connected to the cops and can get away with anything. Any return visit(s) and/or recruiting of other girls, now knowing what "massage" was code for, must be viewed in that original context (and of their financial desperation, history of abuse/neglect, age, etc.).

Same here, and that doesn't normally happen. I went to my parents' house for dinner, as neighbors two streets over always put on a brief (and totally illegal) display we can see from the backyard; the cats are not at all fazed - they sit in the bay window and watch the sky. Driving home, there were more such little shows going on than normal (since all the official ones were canceled this year due to COVID-19), thus the low-lying level of smoke in the air. I didn't hear much beyond midnight, though, and I don't think that's unreasonably late on a Saturday night. The problem is, as I said earlier, that it has been going on to a lesser extent for about a month now, and that's not something people with PTSD and/or frightened pets can plan for/around (especially in a year when one can hardly go anywhere). I'd like to think tonight will be the last night, but I don't know; it has been an unpredictable year all around.

I vaguely remember that one - a little bit that I think their math was off, and mostly that her reaction upon the reveal was quite entertaining. The CC re-run I got yesterday was the hot sauce taste testing (which always makes me laugh, thinking back to Chris Kimball's oh my stars, heat! reaction to his hot sauce taste testing). My favorite is the runner-up, Tabasco (Frank's was the landslide winner), which is seemingly odd as vinegar is the number one ingredient, and I hate most types of vinegar. But it's also the spiciest (highest on the scoville scale), so I'm sure that's why I prefer it. I wonder, though, if I tasted those two on their own, as she did, rather than in sauces, if I'd taste too much of the vinegar in Tabasco and lean towards Frank's. Of course, the test audience had it in something and still far and away went with Frank's, so I guess this is just one of the few times I'm on a pretty different wavelength than ATK (I don't dislike Frank's at all, mind you).

She's on my outstretched legs in that photo; I'm in the desk chair with my legs propped up and she's on my thighs - I have interrupted petting her to have a paparazzi moment, and she is not having it. Here's what happened when my picture taking interrupted a nap: (She was actually quite a happy and friendly kitty; she just looked particularly amusing the rare moments when she was annoyed.)

I watched #Anne Frank Parallel Stories when it popped up as a recommendation on Netflix last night, because I watch pretty much all (factual) Holocaust films that come my way and it features Helen Mirren (reading passages from Frank's diary). But, oh dear, the hashtag is not just annoying in the title; part of the framing is some millennial silently traveling to various key locations in Frank's life and death, always posting photos to social media with painfully over-earnest reflections and hashtags for the world to solemnly nod along with. Go away, random emo! The rest of the film intersperses (along with scholarly commentary providing historical background and drawing parallels between societal attitudes then and now) the thoughts written by Anne while in hiding with the present-day recollections of five Holocaust survivors who were around that same age when they were taken to the camps. It's powerful testimony from a few of the remaining survivors, especially as they worry the world is already forgetting their stories. And while some may find Mirren overly theatrical in some of her readings, especially as juxtaposed with the survivors' accounts of their own adolescent experience, I think it works because she's not speaking as a contemporary looking back, she's speaking as a 14-year-old girl might have sounded in her own head when writing her feelings in real time. So it's a good watch. I just really can't stand the hashtag journey stuff (not to mention the fact I can barely make out the text of the social media posts on screen). That probably means it's meant for a younger audience and - again with the worry this history is being lost at a time when it's so important to remember its lessons - I should just say whatever works.

No, that's the late, great Maddie (Madeleine Alice). She was my cat at the time I joined pTV; she died the next year (and I adopted Riley nine months after that). Back then, I didn't know how to resize photo files, so that crappy flip phone picture was the only image file I had that was small enough to use as my avatar. That amuses me in some odd way, so the avatar remains.

In non-pandemic times, I give precisely zero thought to germs (and I now merely stay home for the most part and make sure to wash my hands when I come home [and don't touch my face until I do]; I am still not disinfecting daily, I just do my usual cleaning), so I couldn't even begin to muster up some interest in whether or not my cat gets on a counter or table. Every once in a while, she feels compelled to sit on top of the refrigerator, and the counter is just a springboard to do that. She likes to sit on the kitchen table to sun herself sometimes, but mostly she uses the loveseat in the study for that. With my previous cats, who were social (Riley doesn't like people other than me), I did train them not to get on the dining room table, ever; if it was always off limits, I didn't have to worry they'd potentially disturb someone at a dinner party by hopping up there to say hello - it was a manners thing. (The kitchen table was fine, because the only people eating there in addition to me would be one of my parents or best friends [when it's just two of us for a casual meal, I serve there rather than in the dining room], and none of them care any more than I do about a cat joining in - we just let them sit there or relocate them into a chair/our laps.)

The cat my mom had when my parents got married would leave the house when my dad played Hank Williams, and go nap on the next-door neighbor's couch instead, where they listened to classical music. Snob.

I thought this was pretty well done; it didn't really contain anything I didn't already know, but it laid things out very clearly and really got at who he was and how he was enabled for so long, and how vulnerable these girls were. Virginia Roberts escaping by marrying a guy she'd just met was a "yikes" moment. You do what you have to do. The survivor who connected her little sister with him (not the artist, the one shown later in the series) because she had no idea he was doing this to anyone other than her and didn't think it would happen to her sister - they kept showing pictures of the sister, but we didn't hear from her. I was afraid we were going to find out she'd died. But her absence seems to instead be because she's still angry with her sister (who says she doesn't blame her; she'd be angry, too). I would be, too! It's one thing to understand she was a victim, she certainly didn't intentionally set her up to be abused, etc. but forgiveness is another matter. That's the dynamic at play with this entire pyramid thing - victims recruited others, knowingly making them victims, and those girls did the same thing in turn. But they were girls. And victims. And desperate. It all started with, and thus lands on, Epstein, Maxwell, and the other two adults who started and ran the ring.

Oh, of course! I don't particularly like "Kids in America", but it was quite the debut for her; I can't believe I forgot that one.

I think the only song of Kim Wilde's I know is her cover of "You Keep Me Hangin' On", and that is my jam! As soon as I saw her name, I had to pull it up online to listen to it (I have it on some '80s compilation CD).