From the Editor:

I apologize for the horrific picks I submitted last week. I am ashamed. My family is ashamed (although this doesn’t really change much from week to week). My pet turtle won’t talk to me. The mailman’s dog expressed his feelings on my doorstep (though props for the size; it was spectacular). And my imaginary friend, Duncan Adam Knorflinger, refuses to be seen with me in public (Duncan, why must you torture me so, why!). I promise to put much more of myself into this week’s effort. I vow to spend all of my spare time breaking down film, reading the papers, scouring the internet, and eating mass quantities of cured meats and aged cheeses. I swear to deliver the most outstandingly mediocre free picks from a 35 year-old father of two that you will read this week or my alias isn’t Garth Algonquin Elgard, III!