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2 of my children are watching the phenomenally bad “Hercules and the Moon Men”, replete with bad acting, heavily oiled muscular bodies, and women shrieking. It’s an Italian movie, dubbed in English, and strikingly funny in it’s badness. #2 picked it up at StuffMart for $1.
One child is on the computer, taking photos of his drivers license and probably altering it for some neferious purpose.
One child and Sweet Daddio have gone into town in search of yellow cake mix and chocolate icing.
We had this lovely Sunday Dinner: roasted chicken stuffed with lemons, squash casserole-the kind with the cheesy buttery cracker crumbs on tops and almost as much sweet vidalia onion as fresh yellow summer squash, and pole beans cooked with a bit of ham and some fresh thyme. As we were finishing up, Sweet Daddio said he required something sweet. I opined that cake featuring chocolate would be ideal after such a tasty and expiditious meal. So he hied into town to fetch cake mix (I am stunningly bad at making cake from scratch, so the decision was made many years ago that cake would originate from a box).
(pause as I watch the steroid-enhanced body of Hercules get drenched with random water jets) Somehow he managed to get himself chained to a wall in a cave, even tho no one was around. If you ask me, it’s a gratuitous act of pandering to the Italian female population of 1965. that and the eensy miniskirt he’s wearing. #3 just pointed out (with horror in his voice) that Hercules Has No Nipples! And the Italian actress playing the female lead…well, her mascara is running. Herc looks like Burt Reynolds with Victor Borgnine’s body (well, when Vic was young like in Spartacus) I shall ponder the nipple controversy.
HA! The cake seekers have returned! Must go and supervise…
mmm….cake
