Boondock Saints

Just finally got around to watching The Boondock Saints.
One of those movies that everyone's like Oh man, you haven't seen that? That movie rules! It's awesome!

...

OK. Sure.

1) If you remove the word "fuck" there isn't any dialogue.
2) ... OK, have you never even been to a Catholic church? Opening scene, the priest is reciting the Our Father to a silent congregation like it's a talent show or something, and he says the Protestant version with the Glory Be tacked on the end. To Catholics, they're two separate prayers, and the congregation recites it all together. It was a really off-putting beginning, let's just say.
3) You don't wear a goddamn Rosary. You just freaking don't. Especially not when you're reciting it. How the hell are you supposed to keep count with the thing around your neck? What the heck? What kind of clowns are these two supposed to be, wearing a Rosary?
4) ... There wasn't really much else to say about the movie. Revenge fantasies, OK, fine; blood guts and gore, OK, fine. The scene where the brothers kill the first two mobsters was pretty cool because the one was defending his brother and was really worked up. When Rocco got shot and they were all so upset, I was like... whatever, he was a putz. It didn't work.

So, the movie didn't really do much for me. Parts of it were kinda cool. But most of it was, well, kind of dumb. Come ON, people. At least GO to a Catholic Mass, even ONCE. Jeez.

Yes, there were cool parts. But that plot could have been used to make a really powerful, affecting movie. They could have used the brotherly love, the familial ties, the moral and ethical quandaries, the religious overtones in such vivid ways, and they didn't. They just didn't. It was a movie with potential and it didn't live up to it.

And you don't wear a Rosary. It's not a necklace.

mano a mano with a badger

This is almost in the Things My Boyfriend Has Said To Me category, but it falls under the "weird" rather than the "sweet".

First, backstory.

Dave's decided he wants to start shaving with a straight razor.

You cannot blame this on me. You cannot. I liked him hairy. I told him to become a hairy man. I said he was cute with a beard.

But he's decided he wants to buy himself a straight razor. And a strop. And a brush. Of course you have to work up the hot lather with a badger-hair brush before you put it onto your face. It's a whole big ritual. Why he thinks he's going to be better at sticking with this than the usual plug in the electric and mow the face with it routine, which of late has proven too challenging, I don't know. I rather anticipate that I'll be buying him a new electric razor for his birthday. But if it makes him happy, then I will stand by quietly with Band-Aids and not say anything.
Anyway.

So he asks me, "What do they do with the rest of the badger?"

"What?"

"After they kill it, for the hair to make the brush."

"You fool. They don't kill them. I bet they just shear them or something."

"You don't just shear a badger. That's crazy." So he goes off, and I go about my business. Several hours later, he sends me this link.

FAQ: How many badgers had to die to make this shaving brush?

Nothing could be further from the truth. The manufacturer of these superior quality brushes maintains a flock of badgers that are more pampered and coddled than any badger in the wild, or any domestic animal for that matter.

Dave was impressed, but not entirely convinced. "I just can't imagine going mano-a-mano with a badger and a razor."

I wonder whether they shear them using straight razors and badger-hair brushes with warm lather.