pain don't hurt; i had four hours of sleep last night; why does my husband sleep cook, etc.

It was super exciting to leave my house for three hours this weekend to go celebrate CatAn's birthday, you know, the blonde skinny internet one resplendent in plastic tiara. I drank someone else's beer! I talked about public transportation! IT WAS AWESOME.

Not as awesome: how shabbily I expressed my excitement at Roadhouse being shown that afternoon on A&E. And also, the blank stares I got from certain ladies as I tried to discuss Roadhouse. I did not do my own emotions justice.



Until Saturday I forgot how much I love Roadhouse. For the five people in the world who have not seen this film:

Roadhouse is a cinematic tour de force from the mid 1980's directed by a guy named Rowdy. This small tidbit of info should tell you a lot right off the bat. It stars Patrick Swayze's pants, which are the craziest high waisted pants I have ever seen, potentially back in fashion now if it weren't for the elaborate system of front-pleats. The movie's tagline: "The dancing's over. Now it gets dirty."

Patrick Swayze and his pants are named Dalton. Dalton's the best bar bouncer in the US of A. His nights are filled with fast action, hot music and beautiful women. It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it. Also IMDB reports "Dalton lives like a loner, fights like a professional. And loves like there's no tomorrow."

! ! ! THIS IS WHERE LOTS OF EXCLAMATION POINTS GO ! ! !

Dalton also lives in a really cool barn he rents from a guy who is the B-version of Uncle Jesse (Dukes not Full House) and does Tai Chi. In one of my favorite scenes, we learn he has a degree in philosophy from NYU. The chick he "loves like there is no tomorrow" is played by Kelly Lynch's stringy hair and whack white lace outfit (no bra.)

Really 92% of the movie is fighting (lots of broken glass and beer bottles, lots of inexplicably angry drunk rednecks, one guy has a shiv stuck in the toe of his cowboy boot), and the other few percentages are split between being shirtless and staring wistfully at the Bad Rich Guy's (named Brad, as all 80's bad guys are named; played by the same guy who was a lawyer on SVU a few times, holla; and who is a small town mobster or something and apparently his big claim to fame other than taking money from the townsfolk is "bringing a JC Penney to town" (?)) house across the river, giving himself stitches, and bro-hugging Sam Elliott.

Also in one scene a monster truck takes out a Ford dealership.

Anyway the end is really sad because the Bad Rich Guy ends up having Sam Elliott killed which is terrible because I love me some Sam Elliott. Sam in Fatal Beauty? Sam in Mask, one-half of the greatest cinematic couple ever, Rusty & Gar? Yes please. Yes please to Sam.

Jeff Healey played the wise blind bar singer. Wikipedia just told me that sadly Healey died this year but that also Healey was CANADIAN which I didn't know and somehow makes Roadhouse even more Roadhousey.

I have spent the past 15 minutes on the IMDB thread "Things I Learned Watching Roadhouse." Which might be the greatest internet forum ever.

So that about sums up my weekend, I just wanted to talk about Roadhouse and Sam Elliott on Saturday night and no one knew what I was talking about. The rest of the Sunday was spent wondering why my spouse woke up at 3 AM to cook a pot roast (true.)

Unrelated to movies from the 1980s and comforting dinner food: baby ape. Q: Who wants to go see that ugly shit? (A: I do.)

Now I will go do work.