I’ll be sleepin’.

Kinda. I attempted to snooze this entire shit week away but only succeeded in ridding myself of most of it.

Cause I caught a great big, badass bug.

Twas not the thunderous opening to April that I had hungered for.

But betwixt the hacking and sneezing and fever and general self pity, I did one useful thing. I watched documentaries. About two a day. I would wake up…feel crummy…lay on the couch and put on the TV…feel like my brain was overwhelmed…doze off, then watch one more after a nap.

Here they be, in order of viewing:

Back Issues: The Hustler Magazine Story

An equal parts intriguing and irritating view of how Hustler came to be and stuck around. It’s full of tits and lots of assholes…but aholes who made history. If you are in a BRIGHT LIGHTS on HOT PINK VAGINAS mood or want to watch a documentary with a Boogie Nights atmosphere, try it out.

Side note: I used to have a signed, F/F, first edition of Larry Flynt’s Sex, Lies, and Politics. I sold it some odd years back before a big move. I just freaked out like WHAT IF IT IS WORTH HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS NOW? But don’t worry, dudes, a F/F first is like 15 bucks. Whatever. I can live with that. Shit, ok so it jumps to like $37.50 after that lowball one and then to $50, $55, then $70, but WHATEVER I AM OK WITH MY YOUNGER SELF SELLING OFF A PORNOGRAPHER’S MEMOIRS. Ish. Damn it. Oh well.

Just eat the trailer. (Obvs, NSFW)

Harmontown

I have never watched Community.

I have now watched an entire documentary about the writer behind Community doing a national podcast tour after he was fired from the show.

I now want to watch Community.

Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me

Elaine Stritch was a terrifyingly honest woman who put her who self into her work. This was a portrait of a ferocious, funny woman who couldn’t give half a turtle shit about what people thought about her, so long as she could keep performing.

Frikkin loved this movie. It’s muses on Broadway, bringing art into the world, and kicking the dust from your heels when your time’s up.

Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia

Holy shit. Young Gore Vidal was a hottie. Yeah, take me to Italy, dollface.

Dude was flying planes by TEN YEARS OLD, publishing books by 19, a bisexual, politically in tune with the masses though he came from a privileged background, and never afraid to be controversial.

I knew shit about Gore Vidal before seeing this. I think it may have moved him up my neverending reading list. But which book of his? Any suggestions? The Essential Gore Vidal? Myra Breckinridge? The City and the Pillar? Burr?

This probably means I won’t get to him while I am still panting with enthusiasm. Which means it may be never.

THERE ARE TOO MANY BOOKS TO READ. #GoodProblems

The Overnighters

By far, the most depressing documentary I watched was The Overnighters. It’s about a small town pastor trying to help deal with the influx of homeless workers who’ve come to find jobs in the oil fields outside of Williston, North Dakota. His church has floor space, but his congregation feels “invaded”. It’s becoming hard to juggle his family life, church work, and now shelter work…let alone keeping up with if any of those seeking sanctuary are serious criminals.

It is a hard movie to watch because it is about a man who may have an ego but has a bigger heart and is losing parts of it to everyone around. You just want him to come out all right, but yer not sure he will.

Our Vinyl Weighs a Ton: This Is Stones Throw Records

What’s Stones Throw Records? I dunno. I can name abt ten record labels and they’re all punk rock shit. I watched this cause I saw Questlove in the trailer and adore him. Now, I gotta dig myself out of a pit of needing to listen to just about everything this label has ever put out. They’re the kinda record label that’s dedicated to outlier musicians who don’t fit musical norms.

Hell. Yes.

That was my sick week.

Before I unlocked the snot-pounding-brain-achievement, I got on the doc kick with Advanced Style and Life Itself. Both are thoroughly worth watching.

Now…

Now…I go to bed at 9:12 p.m. To make sure the mucus minotaur doesn’t split my chest back open.