YOU MADE YOUR BED, NOW LIE IN IT. TOY-O-TA: Apropos of nothing, remember the old Toyota jingle that went "you asked for it/you got it/Toyota"? Sometimes, when stuck in traffic or in lines, Spacewoman and I like to brainstorm alternative versions of that jingle. Here are some examples:

You reap what you sow. Toyota.
What goes around comes around. Toyota.
This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you, Toyota.

I'm sure you can think of others.

WORD OF THE WEEK: Sometimes, there's a title or piece of dialogue so ludicrous that you can't resist saying it over and over again, even in inappropriate situations. (E.g., "Is this because I'm a lesbian?") This week, that word is clear. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you MANSQUITO!

YES, YOU'RE STILL FIRED: Yesterday's "PTI" reminds us that yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of the firing of Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth on "The Apprentice." Obviously, Omarosa is one of the all-time great reality TV villains, arguably single-handedly determining the outcome of the first season with her incompetence. However, needless to say, she has competition from many folks--Richard Hatch, Sue Hawk, and Johnny Fairplay from Survivor, John Stevens from AI, Wendy Pepper from Project Runway, the "bitch that pulled beer in my weave" from ANTM, Jonathan, Mirna, and Colin from TAR. So, let's talk--who's your "favorite" reality TV villain?

IT'S BETTER THAN "TINY MOIST HAND:" There's really not a whole lot to say about The Jacket, which attempts to cover up narrative incoherence with rapid-fire editing and "surrealism," and which cribs a major plot point near the end from another, much better film in a similar genre. (Note: clicking that link, coupled with a little thought, could lead to spoilage, though not of a huge huge plot point.)

However, two questions of movie etiquette for discussion. First, behind me was a mother, father, and about 6 year old child. Leaving aside the wisdom of bringing a 6 year old to a movie that's (quite deservedly) rated "R," the child dozed off about half an hour into the movie, but then began to snore--quite loudly--throughout the rest of the movie. Should the parents have removed the child?

Second, and trickier--it's cold in New York right now, so people have coats and bags, etc., and, of course, movie theatres provide no place to put them. I customarily put my coat, hat, and bag on the seat next to me, but will move them if asked. Tonight, as the movie started, my coat and stuff were on the chair to my right, and the person two seats down had their coat and such on the left. While the theatre was crowded, no one asked me to move over before the lights dropped, during the pre-show advertising, or during the trailers. However, shortly after the movie began, a couple arrived, and asked that I move over. I said that because the movie had started, I would not. They loudly pled, and, realizing that they wouldn't shut up, moved over, but whispered to them that they should consider showing up on time. Question: how should I have handled this situation?

FOR THAT DEAF, DUMB, AND BLIND INNER CHILD: It's the Internet Pinball Database, where you can find out about seemingly every pinball machine ever made, and enjoy adventures in really bad ideas in movie licensing, such as the machines based on "Twister," "Apollo 13,"and yes, that classic film, "Space Jam."

YOU COULD SEE THAT PIERRE DID TRULY LOVE THE MADEMOISELLE: In a generally negative review of Be Cool, Roger Ebert makes the following curious point about a Travolta/Uma dance scene in the movie:

Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction knew that Travolta won the disco contest in Saturday Night Fever. But Tarantino's scene didn't depend on that; it built from it. Travolta was graceful beyond compare in Fever, but in Pulp Fiction he's dancing with a gangster's girlfriend on orders from the gangster, and part of the point of the scene is that both Travolta and Thurman look like they're dancing not out of joy, but out of duty. So we remember Fever and then we forget it, because the new scene is working on its own.

Now, I always thought the point of the scene was that both Vincent Vega and Mrs. Mia Wallace were both already wasted on heroin (but didn't know the other was), and that their dancing was, as a result, just ridiculously funny as their tried to twist through their drug-induced haze.

Or am I wrong, and Ebert right, as I imagine often is the case?

THE VERY LAST WORD ABOUT THE 2005 ACADEMY AWARDS: It's come to my attention -- and I'm sorry I missed this -- that the Necrology segment somehow left out Spalding Gray, whose death was not confirmed until after last year's ceremony.

That's just wrong.