This will teach me to stop doing research on my possible future car:
Click here to say to yourself, "WTF?"
It's something I came across when doing some background research on any common design problems on my hopefully future car. Makes me want to just go back to updating my Jukebox and pretend the above doesn't exist.
The Big Hit is on the tele, and I just tuned in to the part where China Chow's dad in the movie is talking about the "Trace Buster Buster." Not the "Trace Buster Buster Buster," but the "Trace Buster Buster." We haven't gotten into the whole "A Catholic and a Jew?!?!" Lainie Kazan explosion yet. Awesome.
And, despite having one of the best lines ever, I still think Lou Diamond Phillips is a tool.
Anyway, another Friday night has come and gone, and I again find that I didn't do much. Surprising how little you go out and venture when you are constantly broke. Anyway, since I haven't done so in a while, I am going to make some random observations:
"There's about forty people standing around, and they're all waiting for lunch!" -- Jenna Jameson, on what it's like on the set of a porn film.
Speaking of porn and smarts, you should probably call the Jerminator and wish him a Happy Birthday! He gets old like the rest of us today!
This picture was taken right after Jeremy decided to call his beloved wife "A-Hole." The extreme grin was apparently designed to hide the sheer terror he silently harbored in anticipation of the shellacking he would receive once the rest of us left the house.
I don't know why, but now I want to watch Orgazmo.
I think I may have only three or four episodes left, here. Granted, I didn't go on a three-day, three-season Alias bender like Danhole did last year; I took my time, hurried up, and broke it up into three or four episodes a night. But, I find the end is nigh, and I'm starting to wonder if I need to break the seal and head to Ballbuster to see if they've got Season 2 available. Why I bothered buying Season 1, I don't know, considering all that non-money I'm trying to save.
I know I've seen all these episodes before during their original runs, But it was twenty well spent, in my opinion. And I'll just consider it a wash if anyone decides to borrow it. So, feel free to ask.
Although, I do enjoy the "pause" feature quite a bit when Martin gets that "scrappy mischievous agent" look on his face...
Or when he's just looking pretty.
It's also a hoot whenever he and Sam have that whole "Ooh, sexual tension!" thing going on. Color me doubly amused when they're carrying.
The So-So White Fed All-Stars, packin' heat! Two times! What the hell am I saying?!?
Apparently, I have that whole "hot do-gooder" thing going on: Vaughn, Fitzgerald, Stabler. Wonder where that comes from?
There I go, trying to analyze myself again. What's the saying? Isn't it, "You can take the girl out of the therapy profession, but sometimes a cigar is just a cigar"?
No, that's not it.
So yeah... there's another friggin' hurricane coming our way. Brilliant!
Remember last year, when we had four headed our way in rapid succession, right around the time I started up the blog? Man, those were times, huh?
Sometimes makes me miss the old job. They at least gave me a couple of days off because of the hurricanes. Oh, wait, that wasn't them; it was the school I visited that had enough sense to not let those crazy little punk bastard delinquents roam the streets during an impending washout. Genius.
Off to continue my Without a Trace: Season One Marathon. I heart Eric Close. And I keep wanting to call Anthony LaPaglia's character "Tony," and I keep half-expecting Brenda Fricker to come from around the corner and try to make out with him. I also keep thinking Debi Mazar is going to show up out of where, since, well, she's always in movies with him, right?
Debi Mazar's hair is, as always... impressive.
Anyway, on with the show!
I'm going to punch that kid in the ass, I swear.
So, I am about to go to bed, once I can tear myself away from this self-imposed Without A Trace marathon. Granted, I've seen all the episodes to date, but you just can't pass up a complete first season collection for twenty bucks. I was so close to getting that and finally buying the first season of Nip/Tuck, but then the fact that I have just paid every damned bill that's due, added to the fervent desire I have to be able to eat for the next two weeks...
Well, you get my idea.
Anyway, I am getting a crick in my neck from simultaneously blogging and watching, so I'm getting back to it. But before I go...
"Never let go, Jack!"
Sorry, I couldn't help myself.
Last night, in a fit of post- crappy football psychosis, I decided to audio blog a little, despite (or possibly because of) the fact that my voice was just about gone from screaming for all kinds of reasons at Beef's. I started rambling into the phone at about 1:30 this morning, mostly like I was leaving a really long and obnoxious drunken message on someone's voice mail. Then, I suppose I passed out and hung up (the order of which, I am not really certain).
Point is, I never saved the entry for posting, and it obviously didn't show up here, and we may never know what fantastical pearls of wisdom I planned to impart on poor Lex (yeah, you were thisclose to having a blog entry -- audio, no less!-- directed solely at you. I can remember shit else, but I do remember that I was trying to tell you something. Now, don't go and get a big head about it).
The funny thing? I wasn't drunk. At all. Haven't had a drop in about a month. I was just fucking exhausted. Apparently, crappy football nights will do that to you. And make you sound like Selma Diamond (RIP) from Night Court. Sassy!
I also turned down the prospect of $2.50 mimosas this morning. Who the hell does that at a beautiful Sunday morning breakfast with your favorite gays?
What is happening to me?
You know that Intel Centrino commercial where the idea is that w/their technology, you have multimedia stuff more readily accessible (read: "in your lap"), and they use guest appearances by celebrities like Lucy Liu and Seal sitting in people's laps to get their point across?
Well, whether you know what the hell I'm talking about or not, one thing is certain: I'd give anything to be that dude who had Michael Owen in his lap. Damn it.
I want to grace your lap with me bum! Right!
That's it. I'm shutting this damn thing down.
So, Danhole was all mad because his DVR failed to record the Monday night CBS lineup. Of course, this included the viewing of How I Met Your Mother. So, being the nice person that I am, I volunteered to look it up on LimeWire.
This, my friends, is what I got:
Screw this "being nice" stuff. It's for the birds!
Can't believe I'm quoting that movie. Well, it is on cable again this month. Chris Parnell needs a breakout role.
I am clearly delirious.
So, tomorrow (now today) is another "Jeans Day" at work. To think I'd get to the point where I was actually excited, nay, stoked to wear jeans to work, when such a thing was so readily available at the previous employment, just boggles the mind. The bad thing is that you can't wear t-shirts when you wear the jeans. So, I guess I'll have to keep my "Spooning Leads to Forking" t-shirt in the closet for another day. Damn.
Currently thinking of getting a personalized plate if when I get the new car hopefully in December.
(Yeah, I can beat a new trick to death, can't I?)
If you have any ideas for a regular plate (maximum 7 characters) or a UF Plate (maximum 5 characters), let me know, because, as I said earlier...
I am clearly delirious.
The Quote of the Week Month!
Okay, first one who guesses who said this gem correctly (other than the person that said it, of course), gets a prize. Of some sort. Not really sure what, though. Kind of low on the dough this month.
Here it is, in all its glory:"The rest of me is just along for the ride, really; It's mainly up to the ass."
All right... Start guessing!
It rankles me to no end. I mean, it's enough to be talented in one area; but to be talented in several, and making it look as easy as a fart after Sonny's Real Pit BBQ, is a wholly different thing.
Disgusting, talent is.
Abhorrent.
With that in mind, take a look at Grantasm's artwork. The ruddy bitch!
Click on one of the images to be taken to the Flickr website, where you can download the images in various sizes, suitable for printing and framing.
Then, after you're done admiring, feel free to kick Grant in the pills when you see him. 'Tis only fair.
And that, my friends, is "Pumpkin Escobear."
Will catch up with blogging in a little bit. For now, I'm watching the first part of the Crossing Jordan/Las Vegas crossover. Ah, the sexual tension between Jordan and Danny is so... palpable amusing!
I think good old Ed Deline is trying to catch a grab. Feisty old bugger!
All right. Back in a bit.
Go see Serenity and look at the pretty people, will you?
I saw it tonight. This movie kicks my ass. Let it go kick yours.
After all, they aim to misbehave.
