13 weird things that I enjoy:
- Primus. I first heard Tommy the Cat on the soundtrack to Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, and I was instantly hooked.
- Crushed-up soup crackers in chocolate pudding lends that needed extra crunch.
- How I miss Freakazoid.
- Top of the Food Chain–one of the funniest spoofs of Golden Age SF movies ever. Set in Exceptional Vista, which ain’t been right ever since the nut factory closed down.
- Terror of Tiny Town–not the movie, which I’ve yet to see, but the now-defunct punkish band from Vancouver, so obscure I can’t even find ‘em on Google. They had a delightful polka (with accordion!) called “Kim Philby”:
Now Philby and his friends, Lloyd, Burgess, and McLean
They were the upper-class pride and joy
Britannia never suspected until they defected
She’d get screwed by a public-school boy
- I’ve always enjoyed walking backwards. I don’t know why. As a youth I practiced doing it till I didn’t have to constantly look over my shoulder. It’s kind of handy in judo, so I guess it all worked out.
- Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town is easily the weirdest novel I’ve ever read. I enjoyed it, too. As opposed to Doug, who seems to have disliked it for some of the reasons I liked it. Oh well. Diff’rent strokes etc.
- The Nature of Nicholas was one of the creepiest movies I’ve ever enjoyed. Not horror, not completely, but surreal in a crawly way.
- I’m a fan of etymology, and so when my sister and her family bought me The Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories, I was beside myself. My wife just kind of rolled her eyes.
- I don’t really care much for the myths of Rome and Greece, but I’m hugely interested in the myths of the north. I suppose that’s not so weird…
- Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter, a weird and offbeat little film from Ottawa. Best line: “If I’m not out in five minutes, call the Pope.” (Although my wife’s partial to the Virgin Mary’s line: “Lesbians, God love them. They get so much done in a day.”)
- Leaf lettuce, straight from the garden, rinsed and then sprinkled oh-so-lightly with sugar, is delicious.
- And the last one, inherited from my father: French toast with butter, salt and pepper, and strawberry jam. I always assumed this little gourmandic oddity came from the Welsh side of his family tree, but no; apparently he started eating it that way up in the north so no one else would try to steal it off his plate. Who knew?