So I kind of forgot about the poll. Needless to say, The Dark Knight won in a landslide as the best Batman movie. I was quite surprised to see that the original 1966 Batman had so many fans and ashamed to see that Batman & Robin actually got votes.

So now it's time for our annual summer movie poll. I know some smart guy is going to write in "none" and that's cool. I started off strong with my summer movie watching but then didn't see anything after The Dark Knight. So I still haven't seen Pineapple Express or Tropic Thunder, both of which I really, really want to see. But, as most of you know, my hatred of movie theaters these days runs a little deeper than that desire. I did go see Burn After Reading this weekend with Phil and Janelle and I thought it was fantastic.

I think I'm recovering from another movie glut. I haven't even watched many flicks on Netflix. I've been playing a lot of Xbox and watching various TV shows. For no reason at all I watched the entire first season of Veronica Mars again in the span of a week. Even though I knew what happened, it was still just as addicting the second time around. So go ahead and vote in the poll. I'm kind of curious as to what the result will be.

Ringo Starr: Don't send me any more fan mail - Yahoo! News

The fan fatigue led the former Beatles drummer to post a sometimes angry sounding short video clip on his Web site telling fans that any mail sent to him after Oct. 20 will not be read or answered. British television stations broadcast the video on Tuesday.

"It's going to be tossed," he says on the video. "I'm warning you with peace and love, I have too much to do. So no more fan mail. Thank you, thank you. And no objects to be signed. Nothing. Anyway, peace and love, peace and love."

Okay, I don't think Ringo owes anybody anything and he has a right to not have to sign autographs and answer fan mail. I can't imagine what that must be like, especially since the guy has (sort of, heh) been in the spotlight for over 40 years. But man, have some tact. Do what Stephen King did. Instead of making a dick sounding video addressing the people who have supported you over the years, hire a freaking secretary or assistant to read your mail and answer it. There are plenty of people looking for a job right now, I'm sure you can find someone.

The sun goes down early in the fall,
burning leaves and cool
Autumn bite in the air.

We sit on the front porch
and one, two, three, not it!
our voices echo down the dark street.

The loser, now a gray wolf
lopes into the wild
behind the house, away from the streetlights.

Hidden, he howls.
His shriek carries through the neighborhood
to the rest of us, three or four kids, hunters.

We scatter
into the wild to find a wolf
before he finds us.

Silent minutes pass
as the the sky darkens.
No wolf.

Finally I approach the old garage,
crouched behind the house,
its gaping mouth open, forbidding,

darkness. I smell the burning leaves
again and reach for a dirty pitchfork
that leans against the wall.

I grip the rough wooden handle,
and peer into the gloom.
Silence. Then creaks

and breathing?
The wind? Or something
much worse.

I inch into the unknown,
fork extended to fend of
friend, foe,

whatever evil
might come at me
from the dark.