Oh, right, this dog park blog. I've been cranking away on a manuscript--juggling the ancient Egyptians and the imperial Chinese. 2600 B.C., 1400 A.D., I don't even know what millennium I currently inhabit. Throw in a new software program (I'm on a first name basis with the good but terribly confused people at Adobe) and an "urgent" proofreading assignment this weekend, and I'm completely knackered. So I go to dog park every night, but I'm not really there. I'm thinking about how to explain to twelve-year-olds that imperial China's most ruthless and effective ruler was a woman named Woohu, who got her start in life at court as a courtesan from a common family. Soon she was running the place. She married up, she plotted, she connived, she assassinated, she overthrew her own son, and she renamed a dynasty. Cool. No wonder she was the only girl. She tore the place a new one.
Right, so dog park. Look, I'm just going to play my bad hand here. My head's just not in the game. I got nothing. Bupkis. So, I took a couple hours off on Friday afternoon to watch a movie on my computer. I may be the last person on earth to have discovered A Town Called Panic, but I loved it. It's like a mash up of Gumby, Monty Python, and high school French club. Small, plastic molded cowboy, Indian, and farm animal toys come to life, playing piano, taking showers, drinking cheap wine, chasing mermen, and falling to the center of the Earth. Intrigued? Check out the trailer below. There are no dogs in the movie, alas, but one sat under my feet while I watched it.