It's Grizzly MAN! Not Grizzly Woman!

This isn't exactly new, so while I will partially apologize if this is something you were aware of becuase it is "old news" then, like my good friend Maradonna would say, "Suck it and keep on sucking it."  I was home last night - and by home I mean my father-in-law's ranch-style house - and I was watching a big screen TV where I rarely wear the "In Charge of the Remote" hat.  Cable isn't something I've been used to over the past few years, so I was understandably thrilled when Grizzly Man was on the boob tube. 

Grizzly Man is the documentary style portrait of the late Timothy Treadwell, who was ironically and literally eaten by one of the bears he studied and protected for some obscene number of years.  In this film by Werner Herzog you will be confused whether to laugh hysterically, cry sympathetically, or stare in utter disbelief.  Same as with my said living arrangement.  And now I'm comparing my life to a man who lived in Alaska until he and his girlfriend got eaten.  Apparently, the camera was rolling during the carnage despite being knocked over and was able to catch some distrubing audio.  Perhaps I'm being hard on myself. 

Give the trailer a little looksie if you're curious.