Becky's Greatest Hits Vol. II

 The facts are these:  There really was a "Cocaine Bear".   The bear apparently ingested cocaine that had gone awry in a drug transportation scheme. There is no real proof of any of the bear's exploits after he ingested the drug. The bear's remains were preserved in taxidermy and passed around among a "party crowd" of millionaires in the 80's and 90's. This is pretty much where the facts end and that fantastic cinema glory that is "Cocaine Bear" picks up. And y'all, this bear is living in the moment. I don't want to give too much away because there are moments in this movie that are raucous and ridiculous, and I want you to enjoy them as much as I did.   I can tell you that as a person alive in the 80's and as a Southerner that the clothes, the accents and the soundtrack are all on point for 1985.   And the fact that this was Ray Liotta's last film adds the chef's kiss on this already very tasty dish.    Before I saw it,

I don't always see Oscar-nominated films, but when I do, my opinion is the only one that matters. Being the busy woman that I am, I did manage to see two of the Best Picture nominations this year.  But can we pause for just a hot minute and talk about the use of the verbiage "Best Picture".  I mean, I love Old Hollywood, but are we still nominating Joan Crawford and Sidney Potier?  Who uses the word "picture" to describe a movie?  Further, do most people say films now?  Or just self-important iconoclasts?   Okay.  Done with that rant. Everything Everywhere All At Once is an incredible movie.  For a person who knows nothing of the "multiverse" and even less about martial arts movies, if even a nube like me can enjoy this so can you. To be honest, I don't remember a whole lot about what happens in "Everything".  The plot is very twisty and strange at times.  It's got a really fast-paced graphic novel aura and it's kinda long.  But w

The Young Becky of the late 90's and early 00's never would have said this.  But the (much) older and (maybe) wiser Becky of today straight up loves Ms. Anderson. She's a woman, like most of us, that took some time coming into her power.  But now that she has it, you fools better step the hell aside! I guess it all started with the Hulu show.  I remember the Pam & Tommy stolen tape controversy.  The Hulu series does a good job of explaining how little we all understood of the internet at the time.  But they also did a good job of showing the humanity of Pam and Tommy, the personal humiliation it brought them to and how everyone regarded the two of them very differently in the matter.   I remember it well. Tommy was a dumbass with a big dick. Pam was a dumbass with big tits. The end.   But watching this limited series made us remember that it was so much more.  They really were a young crazy couple in love.  They really did just want to live their best lives.  Of course

I should be working.  I should be producing and innovating in my tiny space of the world.  But I can't.  Because Alex Murdaugh is on the stand in his own defense and he keeps calling his late son by his nickname Paw-Paw.  Which I have no doubt his attorneys encouraged him to do.  He also keeps calling his wife Mags.  These are the two once-living-now-dead people Alex Murdaugh is accused of killing.  I have to admit  I never would have known a thing about this mess or come to follow it so closely if it wasn't almost local. And I mean local as in it being one state away from me.  I tend to not follow true crime as it truly seems to be exploitive and gross.  And I'll be honest, being the baby that I am, a lot of it gives me anxiety.   But this.....this thing here.....it's a different animal.    The documentary lays this out much better than the trial has, mainly because only so much evidence can be introduced in court.  Since this limited series came out last year, the ent

  Pretty meh.  This memoir reminded me a lot of Elizabeth Vargas' memoir in the sense that they both don't want to spoil their "good girl" images of telling too much or being too opinionated.  So they both tell just enough truth to keep their readers happy who also don't want to see them in a varnished light.  I can't help but wonder if Valerie's upcoming book will share a bit more after Eddie Van Halen's untimely death.   Also, I'm not trying to downplay or misunderstand the struggle because I struggle with it myself, but the constant focus on weight and pounds was pretty boring.  I think by today's standards (when you consider this book was written roughly 15 years ago) this memoir would be considered "fat phobic".   It's sad that woman as talented and charming as Bertinelli would store so much by her size.  But I suppose that's the plight of American women, especially those in the entertainment industry.

  This book has everything: old school Hollywood, celebrity  name-dropping, California to the nth degree and all the sex, drugs, art and rock n roll of the 1960's that a person can stand!  Why did I have such a hard time staying interested?  The only thing I can figure is that I just really don't like Dennis Hopper.  His public persona as well as his private one portrayed in this book.....well....neither one is very loveable.  But if a reader is really into this time period, particularly the artists that orbited the Andy Warhol set, they will love this book.

 Should I love my boyfriend's doggo as much as I do? Maybe you should shut up and mind ya business?