Here are BK's notes for today (the first part, ennyway) in "Redneck":
Wal, dear readers, yo' knows whut ah like about this hyar har site? Whut in tarnation ah like about this hyar har site is thet it’s up close an' varmintal, thet’s whut ah loke about this hyar har site. Thet’s whut ah “loke”? Whut in tarnation kind of wo'd is loke? Thet’s whut ah loke about this hyar har site. ah don’t knows whut it means but ah loke it, ah pow'ful does. Whar was I? Oh, yessuh, up close an' varmintal, ah reckon. We don’t shilly-shally aroun' hyar, no' does we shally-shilly. We tell it like it is, baby. We don’t beat aroun' th' bush although we does sometimes bush aroun' th' beat. ah like a nice two-four beat aroun' th' bush – a nice bouncy C. We lay it on th' line, baby, an' it lokes bein' laid on th' line, o' so it tells me. We is brutally honess an' honestly brutal, eff'n yo' git mah drif'. Not jest me, but ev'ryone. Thet is whut makes this hyar har site unique on all th' Internet, an', as yo' know, ah feel thet soon we will be the dawgoned-est popular site on all th' Internet. So, loke it o' lump it, we is whut we are, o', as Jeremiah Herman put it, We Am Whut in tarnation We Am, dawgone it. Wal, thet was ingit-up-and-gitatin', wasn’t it? Ju knows ah happen t'loke Noo Yawk? ah muss git back thar soon – it’s been exackly a year on account o' ah was thar an' thet is jest too too long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Speakin' of long, yessuhterday was a long day. ah don’t remember whuffo', pow'ful, but ah knows it was long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Th' day had its pleasures an' it also had its pain-in-the-booty cheeks. Th' pleasures were joggin', watchin' th' Kevin Spirtas lop on DVD (a few thin's t'fix, but not menny, at least fo' me – it plays pow'ful fine, acshully) - th' mos' trimenjus thin' we hafta does is t'lighten th' whole thin' a couple of stops – thet will pow'ful he'p ev'rythin'. Other than thet, thar were jest about three weird thin's thet ah's hankerin' t'fix. ah didn’t git aroun' t'watchin' th' Deceit check disc, so I’ll does thet this hyar mo'nin'. ah ate mighty reasonably, an' ah muss say th' weight lost is pow'ful showin' now – ev'ryone is noticin' it. I’ll take a photograph, perhaps by th' end of this hyar week. Shet mah mouth! ah also got an unspecked check in th' mail – not huge, but ah allus injoy gittin' unspecked checks in th' mail, ah reckon. Mah fineness, this hyar whole pareegraph is up close an' varmintal, isn’t it? An' ah loke thet.
Last night ah watched a moshun pitcher on DVD intitled Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! ah had only vague memo'ies of some Internet postin's ravin' about this hyar film, dawgone it. Whuffo' ah evah take a chance on films like this hyar on account o' of whut I’ve read is beyond me, on account o' th' varmints ravin' is usually twelve years old, cuss it all t' tarnation. Wal, this hyar film autymatically inters th' pantheon of ho'rible movies. Fo' me thar is nothin' wo'se than a film thet reckons it’s oh so clevah, an' winks an' nudges th' audience ev'ry two minutes t'make sho'nuff we knows how clevah it is. Th' problem is, it isn’t clevah. It’s smarmah, stoopid, unfunny, an' inepp. Th' film be hankerin' t'have it all ways – th' narrashun pokes yo' repeatedly tellyng us we’re jest watchin' a stoopid movie. An' then, suddenly someone will does sumpin an' git emoshunal an' th' film specks us t'give a flyin' Wallenda. We don’t. It’s acshully mind bogglin' in its awfulness. Th' acko's is strickly fum B-moviesville, an' ah jest sat thar fo' th' entire 103 minutes wif mah mouth agape. I’m sick of these hipper than hip, right fineer than right fine movies – they’re neifer hip no' right fine – they jest stink t'high hevvin o' low hell, ah reckon. Transfer was fine. Th' film was a huge box-office disaster, one of th' lowess grostin' majo' films in years. ah reckon thet’s on account o' thar comes a time when th' audience, even today’s audience, finally says, “I’m stoopid, but I’m not THAT stoopid.” An' thet is mah opinion on this hyar film, dawgone it. Others may injoy it, an' thet’s whut makes Ye Olde Houn'dog Racin'.
Whut in tarnation is I, Ebert an' Roeper all of a sudden? Whuffo' don’t we all click on th' Unseemly Button below on account o' we haf mo'e up close an' varmintal stuff in th' next seckshun.
