Room for Rhombuses, Too

OK, I give up. There's no way I can even pretend that I'm not geeked about seeing this movie. Behold, Nacho Libre (via), starring Jack Black, directed by Jared Hess, and written by Mike White. I think my inner twelve year old boy just had an asthma attack of unadulterated giddiness. (Maybe these links will be of some interest to the good folks who occasionally stumble upon my blog while looking for actual wrestling information?)

As long as I'm admitting embarrassing things this week, I might as well admit that I have a real soft spot for John Mayer. (So does ?uestlove.) Um, does this Radiohead cover (via) earn him any cred at all? Or does it just make things worse? I think it's tits.

Go nominate a blogger you love for one of the Best Sentences of 2005 (via). The deadline to submit is tomorrow. Seriously, this isn't a boomerang-style hint to nominate me or anything; I would just love to see some deserving alterna-media folks get the credit they're due outside of something as relatively insular as the Bloggies. I know I've quoted it before, but this sentence about Franz Ferdinand from Matthew Perpetua's Fluxblog was the first thing to come to mind. It still makes me smile and is worthy of commendation (as is most of the rest of his blog, both the writing and the music he highlights).

Though twitchy funk is their bread and butter, I definitely prefer them with their Franz-o-meter set to Ultra-Jaunt, which makes them sound vaguely like late period Grant Lee Buffalo decked out in Dior.