Good morning. How ya doin’? It’s spring and the garden doth call. Doth it call for thee as well? Okay, before I descend into faux Shakespeare-King James Bible meanderings– I have a short story out in the Ghastling, number 13.
Jimmy’s Jar collection is a tale of two cousins in an Idaho graveyard trying to catch ghosts in canning jars.
Check it out! Also, go check out past issues of the Ghastling. If you like short stories that deal with the macabre and strange and spooky, or even if you don’t, you might find some writing you really enjoy. Cheers!
Hello again. I am experimenting with my new toy. So far have done two pieces. Drunken Bees and I Can See the Stars Now, where I used Soundcloud. No external mic yet and need to figure out how to edit but hey, a rough draft of delights to come, yes? Wheee! Below is about eight minutes. This is version three or four. That background pic is one I took of a sunset. Pretty!
Hi and hello. I am going to try to record my work in audio formats, which should be a fun learning experience for all. I am also going to stop being a chickenshit and get…A PATREON PAGE. Why not. I have stuff to offer. It’s a way to get my works out there.
I am not good with technology so this will be a challenge. And since the weather refuses to not be wintery, which is freezing all my plants…yeah, should jump with a WTF, let’s do this! rebel yell into the nearest canyon. All righty then! Onward, upward, woot woot.
I’ve seen all three Godzilla movies. Can’t name a single character or even bother to remember the actual storylines. Scientists and…I’m done, I’m out.
So, this last movie, where Godzilla smacks King Kong around and King Kong doesn’t like it much. Wish it had been two hours of the two icons battling it out instead of conspiracy theories are real, interchangeable stock characters and dialogue formed by throwing fridge magnets against a wall.
I love this current imagining of the Godzilla creature. It’s impressive, cinematic, theatrical, powerful, fun and gorgeous to watch. Well done! Yay! I like the old Godzilla, too. The Japanese one. The ancient, creaky, hilariously bad monster flicks that bring a smile of recognition at the sheer nostalgia for ‘simpler times’ when monster movies were viewed from a questionable, shabby couch, late at night, the lights turned off. And the notion that childhood would be forever, that everything would be safe and good and life not so hard at all to conquer.
Yeah, none of that happened and life sucks. Godzilla, you fucking cunt lying lizard shitweasel fuckface.
I had no high hopes for this newest money grab by cynical movie moguls trying to stay afloat in these interestin’ times.
I’m not invested in these movies. That’s a problem. I don’t care about anything that happens. I can’t remember who any of the characters are, even on a rewatch. I have no interest in watching any of these again. I’ve seen the Kong movie, with Loki and Captain Marvel, many a time now. It flashes by on basic cable, you stick with it as you putter about scrubbing the sink or whatever. It’s just background noise. I’ve seen the remake with Jack Black and Naomi Watts. Eh.
I’ve even seen the blasphemy that was the one with Matthew Broderick. Bigger is better, was the tagline or something like that. No! No, it was not!!
Oh my goodness. Happened to catch Mulholland Drive for the first time ever. WTF? How does Lynch keep getting funding? What the hell was that? I couldn’t stop watching, yet I was aware of my ‘this is crap wrapped in shiny foil’ impression the entire time. Lesbians just kiss awkwardly and grab each other’s boobies? Maniacal old people, bwhahahahahaha. Blue box of mystery is a snooze. I loved the singer near the end, that was great. Um…cowboy? I’m not a David Lynch fan, so that might be it as well. I always feel as if he’s a third-rate Fellini. Like he’s trying too hard to be strange and different, it’s not natural or organic with him. None of his stuff seems to spring from any real or honest place. Which might be his entire point but still…eh.
Oh yeah, Godzilla versus Kong. I don’t really have a long review here. Just…get rid of the people. More monsters. All monsters, in fact. Not unless there’s a startling new storyline that NEEDS TO BE TOLD. And there isn’t. Not here, anyway. It’s just evil scientists and conspiracy theories THAT TURN OUT TO BE TRUE. Fuck me, are you kidding?? Why not have this thing set in a New Jersey pizza parlor’s basement?? Fuck a unicorn, you lazy shit writers. Just have the two iconic monsters battle it out for ninety minutes to two hours. Happy girl here! I’d be extra happy and dance around like no one’s watching. To Harry Styles songs. Yep.
If you can, swing by and give me a review. And maybe buy my books. Or give them a whirl on Kindle or some other app or device like that. Yay! Support artists. I’m an artist. See where this is going?
ANN WUEHLER 