It's a great book club.
Although I'm not quite halfway through this book, I am already thoroughly enjoying the similarities between her growing up in rural Texas between the 1980's-90's, and my growing up in rural South Dakota around the same time.
From deer guts, insane poultry, a loving father who doesn't always understand he is putting his childrens' life in danger, to trying to live in a most inhospitable place - my imaginary new best friend and I are hip to hip on some cherished childhood memories.
Jenny, if you ever read this - I too have fallen victim to nature's "OH NO! That was a Bull Snake and not a Rattler?" trick after killing the poor beast nearly beyond recognition. I'd like to think this happens at least once to the best of prairie folk. Ever since my teen self accidentally massacred the five foot creature, my father has reminded me, nearly every time I visit, not to mess with his big fat "pet" bull snake(s) hanging out in the yard.
Which reminds me, I once watched my father pull a bull snake out of our basement wall. It was so big it took my Dad and my two teenage brothers to carry it out. I tell people this story and they have the shivers - I'm still fascinated that this massive snake lived in our walls for so long. We never had a rodent problem. Ever. But that's another story.
Why am I bringing this all up? What's the connection between this book, South Dakota, and Horror Habit:
That's right folks. This B classic is what ties today's post all together.
In fact, partially into the book, I called my husband and asked him to please find a copy of this film because I wanted to watch it: TONIGHT.
"Why do you - what - I don't understand..." he began asking.
"Because I want to blog about it! There's this book and then South Dakota and Texas. Did you find it!?" I lovingly replied.
"Ah, yeah, I found it - still don't understand..."
"Excellent! I love you!"
He's very patient with my horror movie watching habits - and for understandable reasons he's very confused by them.
***
So, there's been some controversy about where this movie is supposed to take place: New Mexico, North Dakota, or South Dakota. Watching the movie they state they 'think' they are in New Mexico - for a second - but it's made clear they are in North Dakota. Which is sad and funny at the same time.
Funny and sad like when I tell people I'm from South Dakota, and the person I just spoke to introduces me to someone else saying: "This is my friend from North Dakota!"
Damnit.
How does this happen?! I just said I was from South Dakota - why does everyone think North Dakota when ever I say South Dakota? Why - always - every time?
So here we are people. This is essentially my review: Texas stories, leading to South Dakota stories leading to North Dakota stories leading to the unbelievably delightful tales told by everyone in between. And Leprechauns - it always comes back to these damn leprechauns.
Leprechaun, is a tall, ridiculous, horribly done story that is sure to please anyone interested in a cheesy, beer-run kind of adventure. I actually enjoy this movie. I enjoy how awful it is, how hilarious it is, how absolutely wrong it is about the Dakota's in general. But that's okay. I'm not expecting anything other than slap-stick entertainment - and that is what this movie is about.
Jenny Lawson's book, on the other hand, is a slap-stick on a whole different level. I highly recommend it for those of you interested in the dirty, nitty-gritty of life's beautiful lessons. Leprechaun, on the other hand, is what you watch when you want to forget about life's dirty, nitty-gritty beautiful lessons.
It all comes together.
This movie is wrong, awful, and delightful - most of you are sure to enjoy it. If you are Irish and live in the Dakota's (all three of you) then I'm sure this will be a side-spliter.
Suggested pairing: cereal. Lucky Charms, actually, sadly... AND while wearing one of my husband's Zombie Leprechaun T-Shirts!!
Order here: Top o' the Moanin'
You're welcome.
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