Space Cowboys and Aspirin


You guys, I’m so lonely.


South Park mob panicking



Calm down, I’m still married!  Jeez, panic much?  It’s just that, on my off days (non-haunting days, you know) I’m keeping my spirits up* by imbibing all the seasonally appropriate media I can cram into my day.  Or night.



Husband, as you all know, does not participate in this.


Closeup portrait of grumpy man, arms crossed, isolated on gray wall background

“I also hate pumpkin spice lattes and colorful foliage.  Humbug!”





ME:  Stay and cuddle with me!
HIM:  No, you’re going to watch things I don’t like.
ME:  I’m going to watch Halloween-appropriate things.
HIM:  Exactly.
ME:  And you object to everything about this season?  Seriously?  You can’t think of anything seasonally appropriate that you like?
HIM:  …
ME:  …
HIM:  … Candy.
ME:  … You want me to watch a show about… candy?
HIM:  No, I want to eat candy.
ME:  You can eat candy!  Sit down and eat candy and we’ll watch Gerald’s Game!
HIM:  It’ll be more authentic if I leave you to it alone.
ME:  (glares)  It’ll be most authentic if you have a heart attack and a dog eats your face.
DOG:  (looks uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has taken)


Dog eating... Gerald

Bad Dog.



Ohmygodyouguys.  Did you see Gerald’s Game?  If you didn’t, I give you permission to click off my blog—just this once—to go do that immediately.  I was skeptical when I saw the first trailers, because I loved the book** and I could see some changes had been made (uh… why is he her inner voice?) but then I remembered that some things need to be changed when we switch to a visual medium and gave it a chance.  99.98%*** of the changes were absolutely the correct choice and I don’t even care that they were made.



HIM:  (brings me bottle of water)
ME:  Thank you.  Sure you won’t stay?
HIM:  (already leaving) Positive!
ME:  But look!  (points at paused screen)  The Space Cowboy is about to show up!
HIM:  (stops dead)  Space cowboy?  What the hell is this?
ME:  Well, some people call him that.  Some call him the Gangster of Love.
HIM:  (comes closer)  What?
ME:  (unpauses)  See?  In the corner.
HIM:  What is that?
ME:  (huffs)  The Space Cowboy.  I said.
HIM:  (turns)  I’m leaving.
ME:  Chicken!
HIM:  You know, some people call him Maurice.
ME:  Not in this movie!



Scene from Gerald's Game - Space Cowboy/Moonlight Man

Don’t ask what’s in the bag… 






* Heh.

** Devoured it in one sitting and was so affected by it that at one point I pulled myself out because I was getting dehydrated, looked up to see a glass of iced tea sitting on my window sill where I had set it, and nearly wept because it was out of reach.  Yeah.  (Just realized that only makes sense if you’ve read the book or know the story, but seriously, that should be everyone by now.  Catch the fuck up.)

*** This post is named for the two things that bothered me enough to mention.






5 comments on “Space Cowboys and Aspirin

  1. bexoxo says:

    That movie was hella weird. I’m surprised it kept my attention throughout seeing as it was a woman handcuffed to her bed pretty much the entire movie.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So … I looked up “Gerald’s Game” on Wikipedia. I already suspected it wasn’t my thing, because I’m chicken. Then I saw two terrifying words – “Stephen” and “King” – those words ALONE are enough to give me creepy feels – but I was brave and I kept reading, having been captivated by the handcuffs. And then, ICK. UGH. NO THANK YOU.

    Seriously, what’s the appeal of Stephen King?

    Liked by 1 person

    • He paints an intensely vivid world, which I always admire. He explains the appeal far better than I ever could: “I recognize terror as the finest emotion and so I will try to terrorize the reader. But if I find that I cannot terrify, I will try to horrify, and if I find that I cannot horrify, I’ll go for the gross-out. I’m not proud. ”

      Sitting with his characters while they confront their demons (sometimes literally) is a wonderful experience; the things they see and the lessons they learn aren’t put aside when you’ve finished reading and the book is collecting dust on a shelf. I still avoid reflective surfaces at night, won’t ask for help in secondhand stores, and I know that sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hold on to.


      • That about being a bitch works for me. The rest? Not so much. I don’t even want to know why to avoid reflective surfaces at night. I guess my objection to books like his is at least partly because I don’t think fear or violence should be entertainment. I believe in evil, that it’s real … I’ve seen what it does. I won’t go looking for it.

        Also, as previously stated … cluck cluck cluuuuuck…


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