NOTES FROM LONDON
Many years ago, during the first uprisings, King Falafel was deposed from his tiny sheikdom. After a tearful farewell, he moved his young family and old mother to London’s Camden Town to begin a new life.
He built a thriving sandwich business and dreamt of the day he would pass it down to his teenage son. But Prince Falafel only wanted to dance.
Rodney’s favorite films of 2011
My hair and makeup are in the final stages of completion. My Armani tux is back from the tailor. My driver has brought around the limo (the black one, not either of the other two). My stunning date has been CGI’d. It’s just about time for me to walk the red carpet.
I should apologize ahead of time for this review. I am in a snit, a tizzy, a bit of a funk and maybe even a little jealous. It’s all because I watched The Tree Of Life as the final missing link in my Oscars viewing. That’s two hours and nineteen minutes of my life that are gone for good, evaporated.
If you happened to be glancing up at the sky in Westland yesterday and noticed a suspicious helicopter buzzing around in circles, don’t worry. It wasn’t a cop chopper searching for nefarious evil-doers. It was just a goofy photographer and a very lost pilot, using their iPhones, GPS and the Metro Airport tower trying to find their way.
Haven’t we learned over the years that insurance companies know best? Why, just today I received a phone call from my doctor saying Blue Cross wasn’t allowing me to take a drug she prescribed. I’m glad that a faceless person in a call center somewhere denied me my medicine. Obviously they have access to all the most advanced medical technology in the world and can judge, far better than my doctor, what’s best for me.