Far be it from me, a great American patriot, to turn down the request of another great American patriot in revealing some of my deepest personal information to you, the unwashed hippie masses, namely, the last ten flicks in my rental queue -- or, if you prefer, those that are heathen luddites, the last ten rented the old fashioned way, absorbing scowls and thinly-veiled insults from one of your fellow minimum-wage food stamp junkies behind the counter.
Oh, relax. As I once famously remarked, "I would hope that a wise white male with the richness of his experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life."
Touchez Pas au Grisbi
Martha Argerich: Evening Talks
Hellsing Ultimate vol. 1
Hellsing Ultimate vol. 2
Hellsing Ultimate vol. 3
Hellsing Ultimate vol. 4
Leif Ove Andsnes: Ballad for Edvard Greig
Most would assume that Priceless was the choice of my sometimes-better-half. Not so, for I haven't drooled over Audrey Tatou in awhile. The Hellsing Ultimate is some vampire anime gig for my lunatic offspring, the rest being a mix of frog gangster that for some inexplicable reason I've never seen so very sorry Sarkozy, old man music, giant radioactive ants and eye-talian horror from one of the masters whose best work is probably his daughter.
Ne vous inquiétez pas, mademoiselle, I'll save you from the rampaging zombie horde.
"After you finish drooling, tag someone."
Oh yeah, you, you and you.