jackshoegazer: (Toilet paper in the desert)
I know I haven't properly updated. I hate prefacing posts like that.

Jacquelyn and I went out to see Clerk II this evening with [livejournal.com profile] brdgt and [livejournal.com profile] strangedasein. They were over for dinner this past week as well. Did I mention that? No, because I haven't updated properly. Well, they did and it was great. I must have had one too many beers because I got brave and dug out the weird yearbook pictures and proof of my past raverdom. Conversations, laughter, you know, that old chestnut.

Clerks II, what can I say, to put this a delicately as I can... ummm... it was o h m y g o d f u c k i n g a w e s o m e. Yeah. I said it. It wasn't a five star masterpiece, but it was good. Four, four and a half. Who knew fucking Randal could act? Where the blooming shoehorns did that come from? This is definitely a Kevin Smith movie, but it's a landmark film. It's a beaut. He perfectly wraps up the Jersey Chronicles with a hilarious movie with a lot more depth and maturity than any of his other films. Pillow Pants. That's all I'm saying, Pillow Pants.

I will now attempt to change topics with no segue at all. Are you ready? Ok, and slide...

I like making icon posts. It's nice. I like people to have pretty icons and a wider choice of avatars, outside of the plethora of pop-culture/fandom icons available. And it relieves my junkie-like Photoshop cravings. Oh, and I, on a very egoic level, really enjoy getting a hundred comments saying I'm awesome/talented/skilled/amazing. I've gotten like five marriage proposals. I've put Jacquelyn in charge of deciding who I’m going to marry because I just can't make up my mind. None of them so far have met her exacting standards and thus I remain unmarried.

I imagine this egoic petting is similar to what doctors feel when they save a life or do a good rhinoplasty. Except mine is safer because there's little chance my icons will kill anyone, since they're - you know - not trying to keep anyone alive. Because people don't go to LJ icon communities when they're fatally wounded. Because that would be stupid. And fatal. Unless I made icons with instructions on how to, say... remove a bullet and stitch yourself up. But still - for something like that - the [livejournal.com profile] iconomicon officially advises its subscribers to seek professional medical attention immediately.

I hate starting sentences with I. Hating starting sentences with I is something I hate. Is that better? No, I didn't think so. Think so, I did not. Nope, too Yoda. Hmmm, I'll have to work on that without resorting to using, "Hmmm..."

Thus, I will leave you, hopefully a bit wiser, a bit smarter, a bit more under my unconscious control. Good night, and good luck.
jackshoegazer: (Toilet paper in the desert)

As you can see by my previous post, or for those of you reading in reverse chronological order, the next post, I have made a separate post of my FIFTY BOOK CHALLENGE list which I will just update every time I finish a book rather than reposting the list every so often.

Good idea, methinks. Jacquelyn's idea. I stole it. Smart girl.

Jacquelyn is gone. To Vermont. She'll be back for a few hours on the 18th and then she's off again to Indiana for a research trip until the 24th or so. All in all, she'll be gone for about three weeks.

Why are you looking at me like that? I miss her, so what? You wanna fight about it?!

We kissed goodbye as she boarded a VanGalder bus headed for Chicago's Midway airport in a sleep-deprived blurry early morning.

As far as keeping myself busy while she's gone, I had the initial intention of starting a novel, but more and more ideas are coming to me about it every day now. It's solidifying in my mind in a way I've never experienced. Each day it expands and grows and I worry I should be keeping notes, but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Perhaps I'll write a short story just to be practical. Maybe I'll have it be an audience participation piece. You offer up three characters, names, characteristics, likes dislikes and maybe a setting and I'll tackle it. Don't be a hog now, don't suggest the whole story, just a thing or two. Let everyone have a turn.

Speaking of which, when you were trick-or-treating as a kid 1) did you ever do the trick part for those who didn't cough up the treats? and 2) when those people left out the bowls that said "Just Take One!" did you ever 'just take one'?

Watched the film version of The World According to Garp. Because watching the book is boring unless you're turning the pages. John Lithgow plays a good tranny. I still can't get Robin-Williams-the-coke-fiend out of my head, so it was hard to imagine him as a young kid. He looked old even then. Read the book, it was so much better.

I also watched The Aristocrats. Hilarious if you're not offended by the most obscene humor you will ever hear. I suppose if I were going to tell this joke, I might tell it like this:

jackshoegazer: (Tireswing)
Cleaning, sorting, and packing is my game, Jeremy the Exhausted is my name.

I went through four boxes of my past; mementos and knickknacks, letters and cards from old girlfriends, an insane multitude of aging rave flyers, ancient bills and crinkled tax booklets, these have been disposed of and those things that made the cut, compressed and compiled into a single box. 

This is a spring cleaning - physically, emotionally, spiritually.

In the dumpster near my home, therein lies a forty-to-fifty pound bag of my memories, headed to a landfill near you.

Hundreds of pounds of books lie stacked neatly in cardboard next to my bed. Ethan's books, toys and art supplies are tucked away, anticipating their upcoming journey.

A Leinenkugel's Creamy Dark Lager sits at my desk whispering "relax" into my ear.

I haven't even started on the electronics or decorations. That's for tomorrow, I guess.

For now, I will watch The Curse of the Jade Scorpion, a Woody Allen movie in which an insurance investigator and an efficiency expert who hate each other are both hypnotized by a crooked hypnotist with a jade scorpion into stealing jewels.

I'll let you know how it goes. The movie and the moving.
jackshoegazer: (Fnord Mind Extraction Brainwashing)
Finished A Prayer for Owen Meany... most heartbreaking book I've ever read. Cried like a baby. Hate John Irving. Fuck you John for making me care.

Watched the 1963 The Lord of the Flies... nature documentary cinematography, bad child actors.. needs to be re-done, but won't because it's two hours of naked boys. Oops, I guess it was redone in 1990. Guess I'll watch it and hope. Maybe I should read the book.

Watched About Schmidt... Jack Nicholson doing the Bill Murray thing... older guy learns about his wasted life... pretty funny, odd, endearing. Beware... mullet alert and a naked Kathy Bates.

Tried to watch Futurama... still convinced that's a crap show. I've never giggled even once.

Played more Baldur's Gate II... completely stuck... there's still missions to do, but I can't figure out how to trigger them... don't want to sail away yet. Bastards.

Don't know what to read now... might dig into the Satanic Verses if I can't get my hands on the second George R.R. Martin book.
jackshoegazer: (Fnord Mind Extraction Brainwashing)
The RUE21 store at the Johnson Creek Outlet Mall has a sale with jeans, jackets, t-shirts, and more on sale for $4 or $5 depending on the item. My God-In-Heaven, it was difficult not to walk out with half the store.

I haven't written two poems in a single day in, well, I can't ever remember doing it, actually. One was spur of the moment, the other was tweaked and edited for an hour. Any guesses which is which?

I was doing dishes this morning and one of Jacqui's plates *asploded* on me and now I have limited use of my left pinkie because part of the knuckle is in the sink somewhere. Ew. Well, maybe not. But there is a definite chunk missing. About the size of half a dime. It will leave a scar. From the scars on my hands, I will forever remember the days when a plate broke, when a beef gravy can attacked me and when I lost a pillow fight.

Yes, I have scars from a pillow fight. I think I might be the only person in the world with permanent damage from a pillow fight. Pillow fighting is pretty innocuous, except when you don't notice that there is a glass light cover between you and your target. Yeah, someone call Guinness. The records people, not the beer people.

Oh wait, they're the same people. Even better.

I just secretly ordered Chinese food for my roommate who has had a horrible day and thinks he's coming home to scrounge the fridge for old hot dogs or something. I am teh evil.

I watched The Anniversary Party and it reminded me that I love Alan Cumming and Jennifer Beals. They are terrific and should be in more movies. I would cast them as a husband/wife team of paranoid conspiracy theorists who run a bar in Laredo, Texas. Alan would smoke too much pot and make pottery in his spare time. Jennifer would smoke too many cigarettes and be very cynical of Alan's pottery. Gary Busey and Quentin Tarantino would arrive as Men In Black after Alan buys a block of clay which contains an alien fetus. Then Warwick Davis and Scarlett Johansson enter the scene, claiming to be the child's parents from a planet orbiting Sirius B, where children are implanted into clay to incubate after conception. There will be everything you need for a popular movie. Sex, drugs, violence and car chases.

I can make it a Jack Shoegazer movie! Johnny Depp would play Jack! I would call it Jack Shoegazer and the Mystery of the Clay Baby.

Yeah, that's the ticket. See you at the Oscars.
jackshoegazer: (Winter Neu Artsy Twine)
I am about to start making alfredo tortellini, but I am lounging while Ethan designs his Olympics brochure for the country of Moldova. Yea, I didn't know where it was either, tucked between the Ukraine and Romania like that.

Would it surprise you if I told you I want to spill the Secrets of the Universe, but I know I'm not allowed and even if I was, you wouldn't believe me.

My state of mind is much less oppressive when I'm not financially destitute. Though, I have to be careful not to put myself back into that position. I've already bought some things I didn't strictly need, once again affirming my attatchment to the world. How unBuddhist of me. So I will paint on my new canvas and I will watch DVDs I bought for $5.00 each. Come on, Cool World for five bucks. I had to have it.

Okay, I would like to write more - I'm so in the mood, but alas, dinner is calling me and there is a home of people who need to be fed. I bid you all adieu and a fond fairly hairy farewell.

Until we meet again, on the sands of the Ganges, flossing with string theory, dancing with Shiva Nataraja in our BVDs.
jackshoegazer: (Shiva Samhara Flame In Hand)
I fell asleep watching The Big Lebowski last night.  Man, that is a great first five minutes.  Did you ever notice, at the beginning, when the Dude is writing a check at the store, after the narrator talks about Saddam and the Iraqi's and Bush Sr. is on the TV talking about it, the date Dude writes on the check in September 11th.  1991, but nonetheless, it's pretty odd.

For those of you not watching the news, or living in America, the car companies here have been in steady decline for years and years and Ford just announced that it's cutting another 30,000 jobs in th next few years.  Gee, why are American car companies failing so horribly, but foreign automakers are thriving quite nicely?  Well...
According to a separate survey that was reported in the same day's Wall Street Journal, the average American CEO earns 475 times what his average employee earns -- not counting executive perks that aren't required to be reported as salary, yet, so the actual number is probably higher. The average Japanese CEO earns 11 times what his average employee makes.
Hmmm, coincidence?  Obviously those CEOs aren't doing what they're supposed to be doing.  Unless it's written in their contracts: Squeeze the company dry and run it into the ground while simultaneously lining your pockets, you rich, smug, bastard.

It's almost time to take the boy to school.  He's all caught up on his work, finally.  Ethan's pretty aware of the outside world, knows the names of actors and directors, famous people in the media, and yet, he chose to do his Hero Project about me.  I thought that was quite flattering.  I asked him if other kids picked their parents and he said a lot of them did, which surprised me.  I wonder, at what age do kids stop looking at their parents in that light and begin to identify with strangers on the world stage?

jackshoegazer: (Gas Mask Funk Creepy)
In President Dwight D. Eisenhower's farewell address in 1961 he said:
"In the councils of government we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist."
Eugene Jarecki's documentary, Why We Fight, examines America's relationship with the privatized military corporations of today and how they influence American foreign and domestic policy. Winner of the Grand Jury Prize at last year's Sundance Film Festival Why We Fight includes interviews with John McCain, Richard Perle, Bill Kristol, and Gore Vidal.

See the trailer HERE. In theatres January 20th.
jackshoegazer: (Default)
There is a terrarium of turtles next to my desk.  And one fish named Firefox.

Today is the day of work, without the job part of it.  I must wash dishes and laundry and clean up from the rambunctious weekend, finish my application for the University of Wisconsin-Madison.  I still have to figure out what I'm going to write in my essay.
Yeah, hi.  I want to go to your school.  I promise to not slack off and publish a lot and bring high prestige to your institution.  I totally rule, I swear.
For the record... The Transporter 2 has beautifully clever and choreographed fight scenes.  The rest completely blows chunks.  The chase scenes in The Island were better. The required-by-law "hot" girl of the film was fubckIng nasty.  Save your money.  The first Transporter was waaaaaay better.  Though, we did come up with a good marketing tagline....  UZIs : Ugly Guns for Ugly Girls. So, I hereby award this movie with a boat-load of stinky fish and a super hot chick.

Also, Amy's Vegetarian Chili is great.

I think it's too early to wax philosophical.  I have a wine headache that registers .4 on the Richter scale.  That means it's small.

Fine, enough procrastinating.


jackshoegazer: (Winter Neu Artsy Twine)
I have officially joined the ranks of Those Who Have Seen Titanic.  I fought it long and hard.  Back in 1997, when it first debuted, I waged a massive campaign, sent out a horde of evil beasts and mercenaries to destroy every living human.  Oh wait, that's when I was Sauron.  Anyway...  

It had become readily apparent that this was The Chick-Flick of All-Time, as well as the highest grossing movie.  It broke attendance records that were held by Star Wars for something like twenty years.  Demographics showed that every woman in America, age 30-50, had seen this five times apiece.  (Of course, I'm only slightly exaggerating.)  I decided then and there that I would not see it.  James Cameron, the mediocre bastard who gave us Terminator II and True Lies, did not need anymore fame or money.  This whole Titanic bit had clearly gone to his head.  

So last night, I finally watched it because I could do so with the knowledge that I was not giving a damned red cent to anything related to that film.  Because I checked it out from the library.  And you know what?  

It was pretty good.  

I could have done without the modern-day beginning, narration, and ending, though I can understand why they were in there.  The acting was fantastic, the sets were beautiful, and apparently pain-stakingly accurate.  I even got teary-eyed a couple times because of the intense emotional charge.  Especially when the band stayed to play, when the couple slept on the bed as their room flooded, and most of all, when Rose blows the whistle.   That scene is so fierce, as it is the fulfillment of her promise and there’s just this I-WILL-LIVE ferocity in her eyes.  It was beautiful.  

I'm very happy this movie was made.  It allowed Leo DiCaprio to not work for a long time, and gave him the freedom to choose his roles much more carefully and allowed him to only do what he wanted and, unlike a lot of actors, not take crap roles just for the paycheck.  It also gave us Kate Winslet, who has become one of my favorite actresses of all time.  

So all in all, it was good, and I'm glad I waited eight years to see it.  I wouldn't have appreciated it back in 1997.  I'm a much more empathic and emotive person now, which allows me to enjoy life and its many accoutrements with a greater depth and breadth. 

I hereby anoint this movie with a large golden violin and a lifetime supply of towels.  

jackshoegazer: (Happy Dead Solar Rays)
I'm drinking a FUZE Banana Colada while [livejournal.com profile] antarcticlust and [livejournal.com profile] kiwikat make curry in the kitchen. I am virtually useless at the moment, with the exception of having to get the food processor down from the high cabinet top. I have to leave for work in half an hour and that is teh suck because food won't be done before I have to go.

Yay! Kat will give me a ride, so I can stay an extra hour!

A UPS guy just showed up with a package from 1800FLOWERS for Jacquelyn. It's a stuffed dog with a cup cake with a flashing candle that plays the Happy Birthday song. I signed a false name for the package and Jacqui gave him some oatmeal raisin cookies. The package has no card or return address so we have no idea who it's from.

Ah, the mysteries of the Solstice!

Last night I watched The Passion of the Christ which was two hours and nine minutes of Jesus getting the shit beat out of him. It never shows any miracles, so if you didn't know anything about Christianity and watched this movie, one might think the whole religion was based on a magician who refused to admit his tricks were all sleight of hand. Who got whipped with chains and beaten for twelve hours with nails in his hands and feet.

Which reminds me of that bad joke: Why couldn't Jesus have walked on water? Because of the holes in his feet.

Bu-dum tssss!
jackshoegazer: (Dark Serious Mood)
Is it just me or is Stanley Kubrick insanely overrated?

I'll give him A Clockwork Orange, that was a fantastic movie. I even read the book by Anthony Burgess, and Kubrick had excellent source material to work with.

However, Kubrick called Eyes Wide Shut his best movie ever. Double-you Tee Eff? It was terrible. I could barely watch. I had no connection to the characters, no sympathy for their plight, the acting was noxious, the plot contrived and shallow. Who is he kidding?

I didn't care much for Dr. Strangelove, though it had some good ideas which, yes, seem common-place and antiquated now. I didn't find The Shining to be anything special, except in the capacity to spawn an obsessively-repeated cultural quip of "Heeeere's Johnny!"

Here's where my big stink is, where I find the feces festering, where the chafe has set in and I'm ornery. 2001: a space odyssey. This is billed as a masterpiece, one of the best movies ever. I swear, it was the worst piece of pretentious, over-hyped, boring shit. I could barely stay awake. It's as if the whole movie takes place in slow motion. Had it come out today, it would be billed as an art film for aging hippies.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of psychedelics and transcendentalism, deep time, the origins of consciousness, and the projection of that into the future as any aging hippy, but I couldn't imagine finding that movie interesting in any way unless I was spending the evening with my head full of lysergic acid diethylamide. Then, I'm sure it's a hoot and I'll find the answers to life, the universe and everything will be much more than forty-two. But to say this is a masterpiece of filmmaking, I must protest.

That movie fucking sucked. Pardon my French. Which is funny because fuck is from the Middle English, attested in pseudo-Latin fuccant.

So perhaps someone out there can explain why I'm wrong, but until then, I cam going to read Arthur Clarke's book and then adapt my own screenplay for 2001, something that people who aren't acid burnouts can enjoy.
jackshoegazer: (777 Pyramid Eye Sun)
I just had a dream that I was in a film making class. The instructor was Michael Hammond, one of my instructors from Madison Media Institute, who also wrote a book on synchronicity and recognising and acknowledging signs in our life. We were watching a film, and took a break. I was the first back to class. When I walked in, I took off my coat and kicked off my shoes. As I prepared to sit down, Michael says to me, "Jeremy, did you go to school?" And I know he means elementary through high school. "Of course, yes I did," I replied. "It doesn't show," Michael retorted. And I know he isn't insulting my intelligence. He's making a comment on my unconventional ways, my lack of traditional brainwashing. In an off-the-cuff manner I said to him, "You should read my book." Then the rest of the class came in, so it was hard to hear what he said, but I could tell he was explaining to me that he doesn't read books, and he's only read one book all the way through and it was like a religious experience for him. Then the class did some exercise in which we were somehow morphed into the young version of famous directors and had to answer questions from their perspective. I was a young Steven Spielberg.
jackshoegazer: (777 Pyramid Eye Sun)
It's Harry Potter, so I lurved it, of course. But...

My only pet-peeve was the complete lack of an actual World-Cup match. That felt really WRONG. Everything else they handled quite well, though I do think they gave one too many clues that Moody was Barty JR. They had the tongle-flickering scenes too close together, which I felt made it too obvious. Otherwise, I thought it was WONDERFUL.

I thought Voldemort would be a little thinner and understated, almost physically weak, and more silently-hissing/menacing, but Ralph did a great job of convincing me. Wormtail should have whimpered and sobbed a bit more. They did an excellent job of making the death of Cedric very sudden and painful, emotionally. They didn't try to soften the death for the audience. I started crying when Harry's parents came out during Priori Incantatem, and was continually a water-works until Moody led Harry away after he returned with the Cedric and the Cup.

It's a tough call for me which I like better, this one or PoA, because I love the European art-film feel of PoA, but this one was much more emotionally gripping, much more adult (well, teen, anyway). This is seriously a series that just gets better and better (with the arguable exception that CoS wasn't as good as SS.)

I can't wait until OotP the film, it's going to be a very different movie, considering that it's almost all in the school, under the heavy hand of Umbridge. It's going to be more of a psychological thriller, where as this one was an action/thriller.

All in all, I give it a brazillion golden Snitches and a jolly-roger. And now I'm going to see it again.
jackshoegazer: (Default)
Only a quick update, I think. Though, one never knows how these things go.

I've been addicted to LOST the past few days. Literally addicted. I can't stop watching it. I only slept for four hours on Sunday because I was up watching Season One. I'm in the middle of disk Five (of six total.) This is seriously the best show ever. It's brilliant. The writing, directing, acting, everything is top-notch, muthafunkin' QUALITY. Robert Pirsig would be proud.

The only other show I've felt this strongly about was TAKEN, a sci-fi mini-series on the SciFi channel a few years ago. It was about aliens and abductions, but it was done over the course of generations and how it affects the families and lives of those involved. It was absolutely beautiful and moving and for something done by Steven Spielberg, I was impressed. He's good with actiony suspense movies, but I've never had him pull my heartstrings before while also grabbing me with the intensity of that story.

Speaking of heartstrings, Jacquelyn and I went to see Thumbsucker, a story of a teen who still secretly sucks his thumb. Sounds exciting, right? This movie is so fucking good. At first, I was thinking, oh this is a good movie, but it's failing to emotionally grab me, and then almost at the end, like a sniper hiding on the grassy knoll, there are two shots that ring out, one from the father and one from the mother, and my tears, like a certain president's grey matter, start flowing like great waterfalls of intensity. If I were a Mike Meyer's SNL character, I would say I left that movie verklempt. Shall I give you a topic? Sexy is sexy; tautology is sexier. Discuss.

Ok, I'm better now. And yes, I know that analogy was in terrible taste, but hey, that's what came out and I refuse to censor myself. Except when it makes me look the fool. Which I do often, so I've concluded that my censorship function is broken, like an FCC official on the five-second delay button who's had a few too many to drink.

my life is like blood-
a warm wet cliché
tenderly wrapped
in a thin skin,
like a desert toad
on a peyote button,
on a cactus in the wind-
clinging to life,
yet bloated
with moisture
and joy.

Alright, I'm off to watch more LOST!

P.S. Is it easier to save others than to save yourself, Jesus wondered.
jackshoegazer: (Default)
I just finished watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the ten-billionth time. In case you haven't heard me mention it, it's one of my favorite films, definitely hanging around in the Top 10, and definitely in the Top 5 of best relationship films.

Several times throughout the film, I'm on the verge of tears, and it still gets me even after ten-billion viewings. I feel sad, and nostalgic, and I miss being in love. Correction: I miss being in Love. It's been so long and often I ponder whether I've still got the capacity to fall in love.

Like Joel in the movie when he says, "Why do I fall in love with every woman I see?" and I think to myself that maybe that's not love then. I used to never have commitment problems. I was strictly monogamous and always willing to dive into a relationship. Now, I find myself unable to imagine narrowing myself down to just one person, and I feel that I've lost something.

I keep wanting to find the One, but everything I've learned has shown me that there is no One to find. Most romantic love is anima projection, which vanishes when the illusion is revealed. I try to be whole, individuated, and look for another whole being to compliment me. I don't want to be completed, I just want a companion. Real, true and deep intimacy.

Am I really hiding from love? Do I keep myself so distant; hide my true self so well that no one can find it? I apparently flirt all the time, but I keep things from developing deeper. I wonder if I've been damaged so deeply that I won't let anyone else in there. I keep everyone at least an arms-length away and then cry at my loss and loneliness and lack of love. What a fucking hypocrite I am.

Perhaps I'm waiting for someone who can see me through all the layers and shells and shields and is persistent anyway, like my love is a prize for the clever one who can get through my maze. Either way, I have no room to whine and complain like this. This is all my own doing. I should be able to change this. Why do I find it so hard?
jackshoegazer: (Default)
So, yeah, those movie reviews are still coming, I think. I drank a bottle of wine during Ocean's Twelve, which means I was so drunk I didn't even finish Sideways. You might get a review and a half. Maybe.

I am now in proud possession of four Bright Eyes albums. Lately, I have been on a steady diet of the Dresden Dolls, Modest Mouse, and Bright Eyes. I feel a thread connecting them all and I've yet to pinpoint what it is exactly. I'm working on it.

Another reason the South sucks: Nissan and Honda have encountered difficulties getting new plants up to full production in recent years in Mississippi and Alabama due to an untrained - and often illiterate - workforce. In Alabama, trainers had to use "pictorials" to teach some illiterate workers how to use high-tech plant equipment. So they moved the plant to Canada.

Sounds good. I want to move to Canada.

I interviewed for a promotion at work. It went well, as far as I can tell. I was very forward and honest rather than the common tactic of telling them what they want to hear. I'll let you know if this strategy works or not.

You'll have to pardon me, I'm not feeling terribly verbose today. I am lacking in grand analogies and train wrecks of adjectives and metaphors.

I want to dance on the head of a pin. Is this an exclusive province of angels? If so, I have a lot of work to do.

Today the sun gave me the impression that it was really a black hole. It looked like any ordinary sun, hanging like Kilroy on the horizon, yet it said, "I'm a black hole."

Identity crisis?
jackshoegazer: (Default)

There's no one here but me. And I could use some company. I spent the day playing Civilization III and reading Truth by Terry Pratchett. Terry Pratchett is the equivalent of literary television for me. It's not exactly profound or thought provoking (at least not to my over-extended esoteric head) but it's highly entertaining anyway.

Now, I will dive back into the wine and watch Oceans 12 and Sideways. Movie reviews will be forthcoming. I'm going to watch Oceans 12 first because I want to be good and drunk when I watch Sideways, since it's a wine movie. It's also supposed to be one of those "What's it all mean?" movies, and that's what I'm trying to figure out.

Right now, I want to know:

Why am I alone?


jackshoegazer: (Default)

February 2012

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