There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Only 9 "work" days to go!!

Last night I had a nightmare that I don't remember, but it's a damned good thing I was sleeping alone (except for my woobie), because I woke myself up with all of the air-punching I was doing. When I realized what I was doing, I was already fully awake and waving my arms around. I fell asleep during the first quarter of the Super Bowl because it was like 12:30 a.m. so I missed the halftime entertainment, which is the real reason I stayed up, anyway. I wanted to see what the organizers would do to remedy last year's "wardrobe malfunction." I was hoping they'd bring back Up With People for one of those fabulous revues they used to do when they couldn't get pop singers to perform at the Super Bowl. It had to be something ultra-conservative just to be on the safe side, and I'm pretty sure the Mormon Tabernacle Choir doesn't do halftimes because they're sponsored by beer companies and by the devil. I always want to call them the Moron Tab and Apple Choir due to a seriously unfunny joke I heard a decade ago and can't excise from my brain no matter how much I drink. I'm pretty sure no one in Up With People even had boobs, much less would arrange to show them on global tv. They were some kind of androgynous clone/drones, spawned in a Petri dish and raised in a Skinner box in a lab somewhere. Or Mormons. Could go either way.

Here's how I know I am musically retarded: Any CD I'm listening to is my new favorite. Right now I've got Me First and the GimmeGimmes on and I can't stop bobbing my head around.

I saw Sideways this weekend in a very crowded theater, only they were spelling it "theatre." No, they just called it a cinema. Never mind. Anyway, I liked Sideways a lot, primarily because the Thomas Haden Church character IS the greggers's friend Randy. It was eerie, the resemblance. Not physical, just personalital. Randy is, with women, the same way I am with music. Whatever I've got at the moment is my favorite. But then I get something else and I completely forget about that other great thing. That's Randy.

Another thing I thought was hilarious about it was the fact that the main character's job was so symbolic and iconic of his loser-dom. It was something that just labeled him as a big dorky loser who would never get the good stuff in life. His job? English teacher. Given, it was 8th grade... There was a very brief shot of Paul Giamatti in the hot tub of the crappy hotel, grading papers. It's very close to the bone. I have graded papers in bars before. "No, sweetie, that's just a coffee stain. It does NOT smell like vodka and smoke!"

Oh shit, now Eddie Spaghetti is my new favorite. I have musical ADD. How many kids with ADD does it take to change a lightbulb? LET'S RIDE BIKES!

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