Ghost effort

I went out to the Parkway tonight with Sunspot, Showtim, and some guy the locals call "Drew". He seemed nice enough. Totally non-related to anything, I realized I need a hobby. I'll get right on that.

We went out to the world's most awesomest theatre that I don't go to nearly enough to see Talladega Nights. I was really, really surprised. I was kind of expecting another Wedding Crashers (which was terrible). Instead I was pleasantly surprised, much like with the 40-year Old Virgin. Oddly enough, Judd Apatow was involved with both. He also wrote and directed Freaks and Geeks. The guy knows what he's doing. Anyway, it was good times.

Mushaboom.

It's all so fucking hilarious

Gambit pointed out that I refered to him sans x-men code in a previous post. Despite "factual evidence" I deny ever doing this. But now I feel like Dignan at the end of Bottle Rocket.

Some movies you all should watch: Road to Perdition, L.A. Confidential, The Science of Sleep.

I've been enjoying a TV filled, bed-bound evening. Catching up on TV and such. Two thoughts, the first being that Scrubs was WAY better than anyone thought, and people thought it was pretty good. Congrats to all cast members on being syndicated. They can all live comfortably now. Secondly, I watched Heroes on NBC. Not sure how a show like that ever gets made. I enjoyed it. But I feel like it was made for me and my friends, only they tried to water it down with enough stuff for, you know, regular people. But I may never watch another episode because I just can't seem to invest a specific hour a week to a tv show. I need tivo. But if you're into that sort of thing, you could check it out. Who am I kidding? The people who read this don't watch tv...but you can watch the first episode online.

It's been a weird day. Actually it just started off weird, which has made the day seem off. Its actually been a nice day. That doesn't make any sense. Screw it.

My life as ice sculpture

Two fucking weeks since I last wrote anything??!?! That seems preposterous. And I don't believe blogger.

What have YOU all been up to?

I came across a film the other day, one I did not watch, but one that struck a chord of some sort. I think it was called, with a delightful play on words, "Santa's Slay". You can probably tell just what sort of movie this was. Anyway, the plot, as far as I could tell, went thusly: Santa Clause, as we know him, is only that way because of a 1,000 year pact with the devil due to a lost bet. In actuality, Santa is a muderous monster (played in this case by none other than Bill Goldberg, former WCW and WWE champion). The devastating swath of his evil is then forced upon innocent children, one would assume. One could also assume that the band of adventurers ultimately responsible for restoring the order of things to Christmas would tickle my fancy in a way not tickled since "Aliens". Are any of you wondering where this is going? I should tell you now it's not going anywhere. The movie just piqued my interest and I thought I would share that with you....Ok, look. Russ posted his entire physical library. Who's to judge?

I had this other thought. But I truly don't remember it. If the weekend goes as planned, I'll end up with baked s'mores and well groomed feet.

Run left! No, no, run right! Ok, ok, just lay down and wait for it to be over!

I was walking in Alameda the other day and overheard a little girl telling her brother not to shoot pudding at her. The poor girl.

Also, one of my biggest complaints about myself is that I am an extremely picky person. I'm particularly picky about the people I spend my time with. So normally I can walk down the street and not get that excited about what I see. However, the other day I saw an attractive blonde eating ribs alone at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. She struck me as the kind of person I'd like to meet.

Dear J

I hope this day finds you well at home. I'm sure the weather is foggy and depressing, as it usually is this time of year. I hope for your sake it is one of those uncommonly warm days that we liked so much. Perfect for soccer in the park.

I am enjoying the coast of South Africa and all it has to offer. Adele and I fight nearly constantly throughout the hot days, bickering over the smallest things. The cooler nights usually find us wrapped together, as loving a couple as you could ever hope to see. It is an odd thing. She asks me to send along her love.

J, I must ask, how goes the revolution? News is hard to come by here, anything specific anyway. The papers don't seem to have much interest in the turmoil of such a small country. I haven't begun to regret my decision to leave, but I worry for everyone's safety. But I don't think I have to explain why I left. You of all people would understand. I often dream at night that I have developed a way to turn the tide and could return triumphantly, to see my friends and end all of the destruction.

We shall see.

Warmly,
T

PS: I don't know if you have heard, but the French are doing amazing things with electronics. Perhaps it's worth looking into?

Behalf

I purchased this today. And Gambit is working on getting me some new music. Color me excited.

There is nowhere for me to hang out in Hollywood. I often wake up on my floor wondering why I keep staying in and drinking by myself, listening to Rufus Wainwright. It is because Hollywood is a giant high school, and I am the well-pimpled, cubby goth chick, who sits alone in the cafeteria writing poetry in her notebook about killing unicorns.

I only wish.

Gambit and I, contrary to what some people may say, did not order "the romance special", and we did not continue our man-date (mandate?) with a romantic italian dinner. And we certainly did not enjoy any of these things we did not do. You can rest assured of that.

I can safely say the Wolverine is better at darts than me. That isn't saying too terribly much. We discussed girls, and Africa. And how he is not the people he tries to explain things to. And redundancy. Such as, "I agree with what you're saying...and I also think you're right." Jaw dropping stuff...

There were several questions about what the menu would be for Tuesday night. I didn't know. I still don't know. It also seemed way more important than I had originally thought it might be. Have I painted myself into a corner I can't cook my way out of? We shall see.

Thank you, Admissions Day. I will enjoy you as much as I can. Will there be pedicures? Only time will tell.

Feel what this hurricane can do

Fangy, cookie-mouthed, mook, jick.

I don't know. It all made sense earlier. Well, actually, it had me doubled over with laughter on Russ' kitchen floor.

I stopped to purchase gas for The Greatest Story Ever Told and a guy asked me for two bucks. I couldn't really understand what he was saying, other than he had no car and he was trying to go somewhere. I had my wallet out, paying for the gas, and then he said a five would get him across the world. I appreciated his enthusiasm, so I gave him a five. Exchanges like that are so awkward. The money doesn't mean anything to me, and I certainly won't miss it, but I wish there was a way I could have given him the money without having to actually give it to him. No one else at the oddly busy gas station gave him any money, and then he disappeared. Poof.

Thank you, Rogue, for the chocolate covered strawberries. Perhaps we can all do marshmallow fondue sometime soon.

Cross you arms so no one can see your heart

This night is strange. My Island is covered with people, far more than is normal for a Saturday night, and yet their cars are nowhere to be seen. Go figure.

Perhaps something strange happened while I was out picking up a legitimate copy of 'Emergency & I' and learning about Chiodos. You know I love my screamy vocals over "metal".

I challenge someone to explain Carlos Mencia to me. Don't get me wrong, I actually like the guy. In interviews, he's hilarious. Ask him to run a sketch comedy show and I start to lose interest. And then you add the fact that the whole show seems to be viciously crammed down my throat. No one likes to be comedically raped. It just seems like such a cliched recipe these days: mediocre product, over-hype it to death, and then keep that up for WAY too long.

I am the world champion and may start wearing a belt that says as much.

Marshland

Hey all.

I'm realizing this space would greatly benefit from some pictures. I need to get on that, right away.

In other news, I think I may be incredibly sunburnt. Sunburned? Does the fact that it's my flesh which has been burned change the end of that word? I don't know these things and am also far too lazy to look them up.

I miss a certain friend of mine. He's very faraway and this time of year always makes me miss him. We were big into football. I guess back in high school, especially towards the end, we spent a lot of time, generally up to no good. I remember the night his mom died he came over to work on this math project we had to do and just couldn't do it. I told him not to worry about it and ended up doing the project. It was such a small thing, and our teacher wouldn't have cared given the circumstances, but it felt good to be able to do something practical for someone in so much pain. Kind of a selfish thought I guess, and I don't normally get nostalgic for high school. But it's Saturday morning, so I'm not going to question it.

Though I think I may have heard of it once before in my life, I read a sterling review of 'The Wire'. I guess it was a show on HBO? But Bill Simmons over at Page2 was raving about that and the 'Kicking & Screaming' DVD. Related to that, I'm glad no one who mentions that movie feels the need to differentiate it from the Will Ferrell bomb of the same name. Even though I just did. Shit.