The Onion's AV Club has released their list of The Best Films of the '00s. I've seen exactly half of them. And, from the 25 I've seen, I agree with most of their choices. A couple of them seem overrated, but I understand why they're there. The biggest surprise for me: The #1 movie on their list. Incredibly well-deserved, in my opinion, but wow. Awesome. A second surprise: The #2 movie on their list. I thought I was one of the few people who actually liked it. (Not to flaunt the "pretentious indie movie-watcher" badge too much. [I'm amassing all sorts of badges all of a sudden.]) So yeah, check out their list. See if you agree.

How about some poetry? I put my mp3 player on random today and a clip from the final Geek and the Greek radio show came up. For the last show, we did a retrospective of our two years on the air. The clip I heard today was a call-back to our slam poetry episode. (Unfortunately, I didn't tape that show. It was one of the best ones we did, too, of course. [Figures.]) Anyway, our second slam poetry attempt is all I have to offer. It's a woefully immature mocking of frat guys/sorority girls. And since I need some padding for this post (there's no way I'm anywhere near the dissertation-length of the past few updates), here goes:

Frat Guy #1 (written/performed by The Geek)

Hey, hey. Look at
me and you, girl, we got it going on.
Me with my one-quarter-turned baseball cap.
Me dancing with you to this song.
Me with my drink in a cup.
Let’s grab the
tap, tap, tap.
Who’s
there’s only one sororitute for me.
See, her name is Lee.
Gee, I hope she sees me.
Me. My name is Todd.
Me with my popped collar makes me closer to God.
Holla.


Sororitute (written/performed by The Greek)

Put some clothes on, sororitute.
I see you sprawled out on the Quad and you think you’re mighty cute.
I’d rather see the teacher than your stupid thong.
It bothers me so much that I wrote a slam... song.
You’re shivering in the winter in that mini-skirt,
waiting for Mr. Right in his popped-collared shirt.
Don’t try to talk to me. I don’t want to know your name.
Go back to Alpha Beta whatever, your BFFs forever -- or so they claim.

(That "your" might be a "you're." Yannos, [if you're reading this] do you remember which it was?)