Book Report: Victory of Eagles
In Which Your Humble Blogger makes a note and moves on.
In Which Your Humble Blogger makes a note and moves on.
In Which Your Humble Blogger tries to imagine how nothing at all could be so exciting, could be this much fun.
In Which Your Humble Blogger does not, in fact, have a little list, but points to somebody else’s list, which is just as good, really.
In Which Your Humble Blogger calls it a trilogy.
In Which Your Humble Blogger takes a bunch of stuff to write about movies, and flings them in the box, and closes the lid.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wonders why Jay and Silent Bob do not make an appearance.
In Which Your Humble Blogger writes about a Martin McDonagh play without saying fuck once. Except in the fucking pull quote, I suppose. Does that count?
In Which Your Humble Blogger leaves off the verses about the bridegroom’s right to be the first to get past the vestibule, and the other verses about blood in the vestibule versus blood in the chamber, and the rest of the verses as well, because Gentle Readers will have gotten the picture.
In Which Your Humble Blogger lacks self-restraint, and seeks restraint elsewhere.
In Which Your Humble Blogger started writing the post yesterday, and thought it was almost finished, and now today’s nearly done, so let’s just put the thing on the site and worry about clarifications and retractions later, hmmmm?