co-operation

It’s worthwhile noting that while some people may well be afraid of Roumanians, for some reason we just can’t seem to let them go. Blackula, Count Chocula breakfast cereal and Sesame Street’s The Count.

<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/sunnybreaks/5454927805/” title=”countandmonster by esquimauxpie, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5295/5454927805_682be20b69_o.jpg” width=”317″ height=”235″ alt=”countandmonster” /></a>

(ref The Count & cookie monster.)

One thing I always wondered about Cookie Monster was, Where do the cookies go? Is there a hole there or something? And what kind of biscuits are they, because they break pretty easy.

* * *

I was watching the (1992) Francis Ford Coppola version of Dracula last night. It seemed rather dated. Where is Winona Ryder these days? Where is Keanu Reeves these days? They are, as it is so succinctly put, ‘past it’. In four years, 1992 will be twenty years ago. That’s alarming because to me 1992 seems like Not That Long Ago. The 70s– now that was a long time ago, it’s okay for things from the 70s to seem dated but not 1992.

The second thing that occurred to me when watching this movie, billed as ‘Bram Stoker’s Dracula’, was how badly it sucked. What a fucking travesty of a retelling. Stoker was rolling in his grave in 1992. He’s still rolling!
Rolling.
Rolling, rolling, rolling.

Rolling.