I Blame The Butcher and Rex L. Camino

I blame the Butcher and Rex L. Camino for my wasted weekend. The Butcher is to blame for making me stupider by watching Alexander. Seriously, it's as if everyone watched hours of old Dracula movies before saying their lines. It could not be any more ridiculous. Plus, there's the problem of the enormous armies. The armies seem to be made up of millions of people. It's like the whole population of the earth at that time going to war. Now, clearly this is spectacular to view, but seems like it surely must be ahistorical. So, as the crappy dialog and shoddy directing swirl about my television screen, I grow stupider by the minute. Soon, I will be unable to remember why it's strange that people who are supposedly all from the same family have such widely differing accents. I will slip into a coma of stupidity soon, I fear. Then there's the fact that I'm only on dial-up and Rex L. Camino has led his readers (of which I am one) to a treasure trove of old blues. It seems to take about a half an hour to download each one, during which, of course, I cannot clean my tub or do the dishes, because I must monitor how much longer I have until I can hear, say, "When the Levee Breaks." Which makes me hopeful that, while I'm in my coma of stupidity, I'll at least have a good soundtrack running through my rotted brain.