I've been sick, so we spent last weekend watching DVDs. Well, we spend a lot of weekends doing that, but at least this time I have the excuse that I was sick.

I bought all four seasons of Futurama and we started watching them. They are not as funny as we remember them being. Oh well. They still have to occasional good one-liner, and Bender is obnoxiously funny. Plus Mojo loves Nibbler, at least when it was finally revealed who he was and where he came from. I didn't realize how soon he was introduced into the show--he is acquired somewhere around the third or fourth episode.

We also saw Mojo's latest candidate for Stupidest Movie Ever Sat Through, which is now Journey to the Center of the Earth. This is not to usurp the place of the Stupidest Movie Turned Off After Fifteen Minutes When It Proved To Be Too Stupid Even For Mojo's Oh-So-Tolerant Favorite Husband, Who Can Usually Sit Through ANYTHING, Even Movies Mojo Has Given Up On. That would be the movie "remake"--or whatever they call it when they mine stupid 1970s TV shows for "movies"--of Charlie's Angels, which to this day we have been unable to watch past the first fifteen minutes. I gave up after ten, but my Favorite Husband continued, I suspect due entirely to the promise of boobies, but the annoying MTV-meets-an-ape-with-an-abbreviated-attention-span style of directing eventually won, even over the promise of boobage.  MORE Mojo! »

Or, to put it in a more precise way, NOT incredible weekend.

Let me hereby state for the record that I shall anticipate any and all future movies put out by MARVEL's production arm with dread and despair. Granted, I was not all that keen on the idea in the first place. But since the Spider-Man franchise had the misfortune of making money, we now must endure every super hero who ever donned pastel tights (or pastel skin) to come to living, breathing, grunting life on the screen.

And Mojo's Favorite Husband, who, let's face it, Mojo indulges far too much when he becomes nostalgic for things he enjoyed BACK WHEN HE WAS TEN and lacked the necessary critical thinking skills of adulthood--not to mention taste, since boys then, like boys of today, still think potty jokes are the FUNNIEST THINGS IMAGINABLE---where was I? Oh, I was dragged to see the latest in the Incredible Hulk franchise at the theater yesterday.  MORE Mojo! »

I got so wrapped up in complaining about the beastly little chipmunk I forgot about my walking out of a movie this weekend and hence forgot about what I was GOING to write about, which was the OTHER movies I saw and did NOT walk out on this past weekend. Well, not including the made-for-television The Incredible Hulk DVD that SOMEONE got my Favorite Husband for Christmas. I forget who, mercifully for them, although I suspect it was my Favorite Brother as a Cruel Joke At My Expense.  MORE Mojo! »

I must confess: these did not come from this year's substantial Craptacular haul. I found them in a shirt box when I was wrapping my own paltry gifts to give to my family (oh, sure, I might be unemployed, but stint on the gifts to the family? Heaven forefend!). They were still in their box tucked among the empty shirt boxes and wrapping paper in the closet. I guess I meant to return them and just forgot.

I have nothing critical to say about the shirts or their packaging, which is minimal. All I can say is there was a brief era when Certain Family Members had a brain fart regarding the size my husband wears, and bought him mediums instead of large. I meant to return them, but back in those merry days I actually had a job and I did not have the time, and evidently forgot about them.  MORE Mojo! »