Is "Tripodial" a Word?

Spent the fourth with Tom “Denial is a River in Egypt” Cruise and a gaggle of scary robot things that sound like dying elephants -- yup, I saw “War of the Worlds,” and my gawd, FUN! Well, it wasn’t exactly fun shelling out five bucks for a child-size cup of Coke, but the film was mag, just brill (think I’ll shorten all adjectives during this post -- hope you don’t mind), and I truly lost myself in Spielberg’s imagery, and I mean lost myself, as in my suspension of disbelief was so complete, by the film’s end I was just about worshipping Hubbard.

Gorgie special effects and hideo tripodial monsters combined with what I believe was a fine and true portrayal of Wells’ vision, good acting, and a shirtless Cruise made for one hell of crazy good time. The only thing that kept me from changing my name to Kirstie Cruise Travolta and flying off to L.A. with a wad of tithe burning a hole in my pants was the ending scene. Gagorama, man.

But I can forgive that considering this is Hollywood we’re talking about here, the magical place where everything sucks ass.

Speaking of magical places, all things in Ms. Loriland, although occasionally suckass as well, were lovely over the holiday weekend. I was, of course, as weird as ever, bordering on too weird, if you can imagine. How weird, you ask? Well, if you must know, I wept while watching a pregnant robin hunt for worms. Yes, I sat on my patio steps one morning with my coffee, and I communed with nature as I sucked on my Skydancer Menthol Lights 100s (cheap Internet brand of cigs), and it was beauty. Then Lar walked around the corner bearing a broken garden hose and a frustrated look upon his face, and the magic ended. “What’s wrong with you,” he asked, and I said, “The robin made me cry.” Lar’s jaw unclenched, and the hard line of his mouth softened. “Jesus,” he said, and then walked away.