...at least, lately....

So The Simpsons decided to honor a Certain Fan who has recently died by replaying an old chestnut, the video of "Do the Bartman". Mojo neither likes nor dislikes the Bartman; when it first came out it just sort of looked to me like one of many cashing-in opportunities. It wasn't until later that a Certain Fan's involvement was admitted, due to exclusivity legality issues, but it's pretty obvious, especially since the Certain Fan was also doing a guest spot on the show. Which was also uncredited, again because of legal stuff, although as Lisa Simpson says, "Of course they didn't use their real names, but you could tell it was them."

Anyway, I can take or leave "Do the Bartman", but one thing has always, always, ALWAYS bothered me about it. This one thing is just wrong, wrong, wrong. And that is, during the first chorus dancing (on the school stage), it portrays series Poindexter Martin Prince doing pelvic thrusts.

That's the sort of thing that gives Mojo nightmares.

Mojo

So Ratty Cat, bless his little walnut-sized brain, has decided The Place to Be in the morning is the warmest spot in the house. Which happens to be the edge of the tub just over one of the heating ducts. If the bathroom door is closed it's easily twenty degrees warmer than anywhere else in the house. It's also the place Mojo chooses to lay her head when she is attempting to take a relaxing bath, as she tries to do every morning. I must say this is an improvement from his initial spot, which was within the bath itself.  MORE Mojo! »

Ya know, I should just say, right from the start: Insert Your Own Joke Here.

When I was in college taking a screenwriting class I once submitted a script that was a parody of the televison show, The Waltons, which had jumped the shark by then and was edging slowly toward its painful lingering death. Not that my script was any sort of Great Art; it was just to complete some assignment and move on with my life. I don't remember much about it except that as one might imagine I was cruel and snarky and somehow indicated that the John-Boy character (I forget what I called him or her) was basically commercializing his fond family memories for a quick buck (hmmmm...), and as the family sat around the table they started discussing the residuals they would get when the show went into syndication. There was also a tiresome snotty precocious little girl out of the gazillion kids who, like a little barefoot and overalled Mojo-slash-intellectual snot-slash-Greek chorus, questioned every plot point and every utterance by the other characters that did not make logical sense. Sort of like a precursor to Lisa Simpson on The Simpsons, only with a Waltons-esque twang.  MORE Mojo! »