fasten your seatbelts

It's going to be a bumpy ride this week folks. On vacation this week is J.C. Loophole. That's right. The trustworthy driver of this vehicle of all things pop culture and movies has let go of the wheel for a week and left it in the hands of your favorite bumbling back-seat driver Wolf Flywheel. I'm not sure we'll survive. This week will still bring you a few posts for your reading pleasure. I have been unreliable in that aspect in the past due to my job and family demands, but this week I promise to follow through. There will be no round up tomorrow. This is not because I am being lazy, but because there is nothing out there but "crap" (J.C.'s exact wording, I swear) this week. I will try to formulate a few thoughts I have been having lately into something resembling a post for tomorrow. Wednesday brings one of my favorite celebrations and we will have a re-post of last year's Independence Day thoughts which were received quite well and bear repeating. Thursday is my birthday and I am contemplating taking the day off. As for the weekend, I am currently working on a piece about GOP hopeful Fred Thompson which I hope you will find interesting. If you can endure all of those things, then you will be rewarded with the return of J.C. with a joint post of our review of an upcoming TCM special about some guy named Spielberg. I think he makes movies or something. Shortly after, we will be making our first attempt at Internet radio. Just think: J.C. and Wolfie bantering for a solid hour. If you don't value your sanity, tune in to witness the wackiness. (Oh the humanity!) Bear with us folks and we'll hopefully make it worth your while. Remember: I am only a sideshow in this circus. J.C. wears the top hat. I'm sure you'll all join me in lauding his return. The Shelf has a lot in store for the rest of the summer as we prepare for the upcoming fall and Holiday season which is this blog's favorite time of year. Tag along with us Shelfer's and we promise to give you something talk about.




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“Nothing that might be written about them could possibly be bad enough to describe them (yet) they had an hypnotic fascination, and the public could not get enough of them. Men and women gaped at them for five minutes steadily in the sideshow, then returned at the next performance for another look. What the appeal was I never discovered.”