Monthly Archives: September 2008

Contest time

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Winner!

Yep, already! Adam R. knew the answer to today’s contest. The line, which goes, “‘Get out,’ I told her. ‘Take the child, and go to the spa and get your health back‘” was spoken by Constanze Mozart’s mother in the movie Amadeus from 1984 (it won Best Picture that year).

A big ol’ Hershey bar is on its way to Adam’s house…

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Ah, but I haven’t forgotten about you, contest hounds. After taking the month of August off, the RtB Contest is back.

RtB Contest #6!

Big fat ol’ Hershey bar (either in person or through the mail, and the Fink don’t skimp — you get the biggy) goes to the winner. Today’s fun:

In the second-to-last paragraph of this post, there is a movie quote (it’s the phrase actually in quotes, beginning with the words “go to the spa…”). Two-part question:

  1. What movie is it?
  2. Which character spoke the line? [A character description is fine — no need for names.]

Send your answers (it’s gotta be both and both gotta be right) to ratfink at finkweb . org to claim your yummy prize. First one to reach my inbox wins.

Please don’t post the answer here, because folks might want to research on their own first. Please and thank you.

Out-of-state players: that means people outside the grasp of my rat claws here in Ohio – the USPS and I are tight, so don’t be afraid to play — I’ll be happy to send your luscious chocolateness through the mail.

Winner will be announced in this space soon’s I get the right answer.

Finky days all around. I’m hittin’ the shower.

This is not funny.

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Does anyone *ever* laugh at those stupid Progressive Insurance commercials, set in some virtual “insurance store,” where there’s an annoying cashier girl who tries to be cheeky? They’re unfunny. Offensively so. I mean, they’re not even remotely entertaining. I end up not hearing a word of the sales pitch because I’m too busy a) fumbling for the widget to change the channel, or b) getting up to leave the room.

Bottom line: Even *I* could write funnier copy.

The spots feature actress Stephanie Courtney, who — I’m sorry if I’ve said this already — is decidedly not funny. And unfortunately, it’s not just bad scripts on moronic commercials that have her snake-bit. The stuff she writes herself isn’t funny, either.

She’s probably a really nice lady, though. But it BEGS THE QUESTION (heh, had to do that): why do people like this make it in comedy/television, and other people who are infinitely funnier/more talented do not? Like some people I know?

Rhetorical. But it’s still a head-scratcher.

F. O.

Things I can’t resist

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Do you have a list like that? I want you to name some off your list, and I’ll do the same, ok? (TRO — I know you can’t resist beautiful brunettes — think of something else!) :P

Things I Can’t Resist

  1. The smell of bread toasting. Every time the Thriller has some, I have to go make some, too. I’m such a pathetic weakling.
  2. Kissing my dog.
  3. Rinsing off the spoon after stirring my coffee. Bizarre.
  4. Jake.
  5. Making sure every hair is in place. (Thanks, Mother.)
  6. Rinsing off the dishes in hot water before leaving them in the sink or on the counter or putting them in somebody else’s dishwasher (I don’t have one of those fancical dancical machines).
  7. Milky Ways. Ok, I’ve been resisting them lately, but there was a time…

What about you? List a couple. Reveal your inner cravings, OCD tendencies, and general freakishness.

Yesterday

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Sure seems like it.

Lance gets married this weekend. And just as I did before Sean’s wedding in 2003, I’m sitting here on a quiet Sunday morning with my memories, amazed at how fast little boys grow up.

Lance Philip was a silly, happy, loud, creative child. (He is now a silly, happy, loud, creative man.)

He walked at 9 months, and his first word was “hot.” Over the first 8 years of his life, he had more stitches, head wounds and accidents than any other child I have ever seen, met, heard of, read about or imagined in my wildest nightmares. I still think the emergency room staff suspected me…

Lance was and is my “free spirit.” Sean was introspective and conversational; obedient and quiet, never wanting to upset things or make waves. Lance lived to make waves. He *was* a wave; an endless wave of energy, creativity, laughter and mischief. (And it got him in trouble a few times, didn’t it Lancey???)

In other words, he was just like his mother. *sigh*

And now he’s all grown up. I love this picture of him (one of his high school graduation photos). I know he’d rather I didn’t post it, but seein’ as how Lance and I are very much alike…I don’t care. HA

Seriously, though. Lance has grown up to be a wonderful, caring person, and I am thrilled to “hand him over” to the beautiful woman he will marry on Saturday. I know I’m not losing a son; I’m just losing my grip on his childhood, which went by way, way too fast.

So this is my blog-flavored sonnet to Lance, who will always — even when he’s 49 — be my baby boy.

*sNifFLe*

Schmenglish VI

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Having written a book myself, during which time my editor slashed over 10,000 words and red-lined my prose left and right, I thought there could never be an editor who would let slide any grammar that was less than perfect — especially when the book is printed by a major publishing house.

I was wrong.

Right now, Mavis and I are reading the Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton (come on, a girl’s got to have some reading material that does not involve research methodologies). I love all things vampiric; always have, ever since picking up Interview With the Vampire after seeing the movie back in the 90s. Her stories are great, and there’s always an unexpected deus ex machina moment, designed to assure the reader that the stories will continue. Total fun.

Anyway, while reading the first book, Guilty Pleasures, I noticed a couple of errors. You know, minor things, like transposed letters or a missing word in a sentence. I thought, that’s all right, just a typo. No problem.

However, with each successive book in the series, the mistakes began to pile up. Things like “I was loosing the battle,” and “He was smarter then that,” started to irritate me — a lot.

Hamilton’s rampant use of alright is bothersome, too, although the word has been so overused that it’s now a basically accepted part of the American lexicon. Still, why wasn’t it caught and corrected? It makes the word nerd in me absolutely howl.

Then there’s this, over and over and over:

“‘Oh, really?’ She made it a question.”

“‘You knew about this?’ I made it a question.”

“‘Are you in love with him?’ He made it a question.”

What does that mean? Of COURSE it’s a question. So, you’re asking a question, then telling the reader that you phrased the question as a question…STOP IT. I am going mental.

While I love the story lines, and Hamilton’s style is hip and smart-aleck, I can’t get past the myriad mistakes in usage and spelling, and her bewildering phraseology (not to mention an annoying penchant for committing paragraph after paragraph to describing what a character is wearing). Does that make me a bad person? I make this a question.

I went to LKH’s MySpace page the other day, and read that she doesn’t maintain it herself. But the site assures that she does read it. It also unfortunately says that Laurell “definately is enjoying MySpace.” Arg. More points off. Her own website — laurellkhamilton.org — is equally amateurish. **FAIL.**

Who knows…maybe Penguin Books thinks people who buy mass-market paperbacks won’t know the diff. But if I were a #1 New York Times Bestseller List author, I’d for dang sure make certain that everything going out to the public under my name was at least grammatically correct.

Hey Laurell — fire your editor and HIRE THE FINK!