I'm actually sort of looking forward to Thanksgiving tomorrow. My family is scattering, so I won't be seeing any of them, which makes the day far less stressful (I guess that's my thing to be thankful about!), although I'll very much miss seeing my nieces and nephew.

Instead we're going down to spend it with K's dad in Maryland. My only big gripe about T-Day there (other than the drive) is her dad's stuffing, easily my favorite dish of that meal. So we told them that I'd be making the stuffing, my special sausage-and-apple stuffing (recipe after the ass). That actually worked out really well since her cousin is going to be deep frying the turkey and they couldn't have stuffed it in the bird anyway. I can't wait to taste a deep-fried turkey, not to mention witness all the wacky, emergency-room-baiting fun of getting the bird out of the hot oil. And if something goes terribly, terribly wrong with the turkey, I at least know that my savory stuffing eats like a meal all by itself.

Just in case I don't get around to posting tomorrow (which seems more than likely), Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

( Stuffing Recipe )

So, way back in August, laerm had a great suggestion and I'm finally getting around to implementing it. Well, technically I started last week, but I did so without any fanfare. And you know what a fan of fanfare I am.

Taking a cue from classic rocks stations all over the country (world?), Tuesdays will now be Two For Tuesdays... or Twofer Tuesdays... or Doubleshot Tuesdays. I'm not fully committed to any one name yet, but the idea is simple: Tuesday's picture will give you not just one, but two asses! Yes, two butts for the price of one! In fact, sometimes I might just go out of my mind and throw in three or more asses. But either way, with god as my witness, you will never go hungry for asses again... on Tuesdays.

Now, you fans of Wayback Wednesday are going to make out like bandits on this as well, because you see, many of the photos I've lined up for Two For Tuesday are retro ones from my overflowing Wayback Wednesday collection. So, in an act of thoroughly malicious Assmonkeydiary confuzzelation, some Tuesdays will be both Tuesday and Wednesday combined into one spectacular day.

In fact, since that's just the way I roll, let's do exactly that thing right now. Enjoy!

On Sunday, K. and I walked uptown for Indian buffet at Karma and a movie. Saw Pirate Radio (aka The Boat That Rocked) and quite enjoyed it. Written and directed by Richard Curtis (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Love Actually), it was a fictional account of one the UK's pirate radio stations in the mid 60s when licensed radio stations played very little recorded music, so illegal, offshore radio stations sprang up to provide round-the-clock rock and roll to the masses.

The film is more about wacky antics and small emotional moments than plot, but that doesn't really matter because Curtis is just so damned good at creating characters that you want to watch. Of course, it was helped along by a stellar case. Bill Nighy (Love Actually) plays the station's owner. Philip Seymour Hoffman (Almost Famous) and Rhys Ifans (Danny Deckchair) play the stations rock star DJs. Nick Frost (Shawn of the Dead) and Rhys Darby (Flight of the Conchords) on board as well to keep the laughter coming. Evil is afoot in the form of Kenneth Branagh (Henry V) and Jack Davenport (Coupling) as two government officials looking for an excuse to shut down pirate radio for good. Ladies get a bit of a short shrift in the film, since women are generally forbidden on the boat except for the purposes of cooking and sex, but Talulah Riley, Katherine Parkinson, and (the always fantastic) Emma Thompson all do well with their all too brief roles.

I just watched my two favorite episodes of The West Wing, the two-parter that ended season one and began season two. An American reconnaissance pilot has been shot down over Iraq, there's a critical malfunction in the space shuttle Toby's brother is on the crew of, Josh screws up in Leo's eyes, and Charlie gets his first line into one of the President's speaking engagements. But then as they're leaving the town hall meeting, a group of gunmen open fire on the President from a nearby building. Almost all of the West Wing staff end up on the ground as a secret service agents shouts "Who's been shot? Who's been shot?" In the second part, we learn that the president and Josh are both critically wounded. As their fates emerge, we flash back to some of the moments when the characters first became a part of Bartlet's campaign, a sort of secret origins story.

Despite being a huge fan of Sports Night, these were the first two episodes of The West Wing that I watched. I just didn't think I would like it. Silly. The first part has the same title as the season one finale for all of Aaron Sorkin's shows: "What Kind of Day Has It Been." I suppose the season finale shooting was partially motivated by the writers not knowing if all the actors and actresses would be returning next year, but of course they all did come back. Jorja Fox from CSI plays one of the secret service agents, something I didn't realize the first time around.

Now I'm watching Carpenter's The Thing. Later on I'll have to catch up AMC's The Prisoner. I do love working at home on Fridays.

Heather Locklear returned to Melrose Place this week and it instantly became better: more backstabbing, more hookups, more irrational zaniness! She's Ella's new boss at the publicity agency and like all the alumni from the former show (so far) she's being set up a big old villain. I suppose I could complain about ageism in their baddie-casting, but frankly I wouldn't want Locklear's character to be anything but a villain. That's what she was best at.

I'm still watching V and hoping that I'm not wasting my time. It's definitely not bad, but it's way short on drama and thus far from captivating. Maybe they need a Heather Lockear infusion as well?