If the Following is Incoherent, Mis-Spelled or Festooned With Sloppy Grammar, Then Know That It's Fucking Hot Out Today
That's right. Haven't checked the weather forcast, but it's probably 90 and muggy outside. Inside my apartment, it's probably hotter and muggier, and my central air is apparently on the fritz. Mark my word: I'm going to die a wretched, sweaty death.
In other news, the Philadelphia Weekly is on stands and on-line. Within, you can find my review of Guy Maddin's latest bugfuck, The Saddest Music in the World, as well as my usual deluge of Repertory Films. Not much to say about the latter except that I hope Sean Burns doesn't want to kill me with sticks.