Review: Saturday Night Fever

For reasons that are not wholly known to me, I am filled with a seething hatred for one Mr. John Travolta. I can’t put my finger squarely on the problem, but I reckon that it has something to do with that smug look on his face, the fact that his acting has dwindled down to playing every character with the exact same mannerisms, and I guess we could always throw the whole weird Scientology thing in there too, although that doesn’t really affect me directly as a movie viewer…

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Generic Book Introduction

Hello, and welcome. On behalf of myself and all those involved in the telling of this tale, I would like to thank you for taking the time to look over this humble offering of a story. I realize that there are literally countless ways that you could be occupying your time (such as badmitton, eating onion rings with ranch dipping sauce, or perhaps taking out the garbage from the kitchen that is, even at this moment, threatening to collapse and destroy everything that you know and love), but you have decided to at least browse through the first page of this tome, and for that we can’t thank you enough. Well, we probably could actually, given our rather anemic and hastily thrown-together definition of “enough,” but let’s pretend for a moment that we can’t. So thank you. Really. It means a lot to us…

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Review: Pee-Wee's Big Adventure

Perhaps you’ve heard us going on and on lately about the young people of today. These troubled youths, the ones who flock to the skating rinks and the soda shops that are so popular amongst the kids, need some direction. They are bombarded with images to try wearing baggy pants and piercings in their ears and noses. They have no one to turn to that will be a positive role model in these dark times. Yes, the current tide of celebrities are really falling down on the job, what with their tattoos and long hair and all. But it wasn’t so long ago, back in the superior morality of the 1980s, that we had such a celebrity. Someone who could steer the kids away from the wine coolers and the chewing tobacco…

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The Streets

On any given day on any given street in any given town in America, you are likely to find a man wandering around, muttering to himself. His attire may at first shock you. I mean, sure, we’ve all thought about wearing a stained, second-hand dinner jacket with our sweat pants, perhaps tucking them into the tops of our hole-ridden hiking boots that are being kept together with twist ties from the produce department of the local grocery store. But seeing this brave man actually put wings to this plan makes you realize what a questionable fashion statement that really is. He comes up to you and asks you for a spare buck. And perhaps you give him one, if for no other reason than the simple fact that it’s worth a dollar to you to have someone else try out (and fail with) your own hangover-induced, Saturday morning fashion runway faux pas…

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Merry Christmas, I Love You!

One of the great things about Christmas that often gets left out of the rest of the year is the concept of tradition. Traditions are important for many reasons, largely because they help us remember things that can too easily become forgotten. They also help us simplify things that can too easily become complicated, such as menu planning. Most of the Christmas traditions in my family, and perhaps most families, revolve around food. Although we enjoy fighting as much as any group of relatives would, one of the few things that we can all agree on is the fact that we’re hungry and need some starch to kick-start our blood-sugar levels again. We don’t have standard gifts, we don’t have rituals about when we open them, and we don’t really even have the patience for thinking about such things. We just have food. Glorious, heavenly food that the angels ate directly after appearing to the shepherds on that silent night so long ago…

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Rusty Answers Your Questions

Q: Can Rusty eat his own weight in candy?
A: I wish that a simple answer for this question existed. If we were to be more specific and ask if it were candy corn, then the answer would probably have to be a resounding “probably, and I’ll get right on that.” However, if we were instead to substitute gummi bears into the equation (or really any kind of gummis) then the “no” answer would be thrown at you, often violently but definitely repeatedly…

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Learning To Love Rusty

Q: What is a Rusty and what does he do?
A: Because there really isn’t a satisfactory answer to this question (other than “the red-haired guy with the knowing grin and suave hairstyle that drive all the women crazy”), here is a false, unsatisfactory answer instead: Rusty is a 58 year-old bowling instructor from South Dakota. For the past three years he has been volunteering at the local roller skating rink, trying to convince them that “if you’d just take out this stupid roller skating rink, you could get eight, maybe even ten great bowling lanes in here.” …

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Rusty's Summer Vacation

Being the overly-ambitious student that I am, I have decided to prepare my first school assignment, the obligatory “How I Spent My Summer Vacation” essay. I want to get it out of the way while the subject matter is still fresh on my mind, and also because I twisted my ankle yesterday while practicing some pretty wild disco moves, so I might as well write a paper since I’m not allowed to be up and around for the next couple of days. So instead of selling lemonade for a nickel today, fully undercutting the other kids down the block who are still trying to sell the stuff for a dime, I present to you my essay…

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