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LIFE, THE WEEKEND, AND STUFF LIKE THAT.
Apr. 7th, 2008 08:28 pmLast day to be out of my apartment: April 28.
POD-packing day: April 26.
And where is the new place, you ask? Dunno. Looks like crashing at Mom's for now. I'm gonna have to sleep in a hammock strung from the ceiling, because there's nowhere to set up a bed amidst all the clutter.
Unless the bid on the new house is accepted. Yes, Dad got a bee in his bonnet and is buying a house. I picked it out! Yay me! Everybody send us good wishes for success! *crosses fingers*
When I rule the world, there will be a new category for movie ratings: DD, for Dog Death. I rented I Am Legend and bawled my fucking eyes out. And of course they spend most of the movie getting the viewer all BONDED with the dog, and INVESTED IN ITS SURVIVAL, and then WHAM, DEAD DOG.
I'm instituting a new rule for myself: if there's a dog prominently displayed on the cover, DO NOT RENT. I'll just end up wanting to slash my wrists.
By contrast, I thought that Sweeney Todd was positively cheerful. I laughed my head off during the song where Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett are looking out the window at the passersby and concocting ad copy for each professional person as a meat pie.
I still have to watch Ratatouille, which of course should be lighthearted, and also a cheesy horror movie, The Plague, which I expect will be quite amusing. I'm not a huge fan of Van der Beek, but I've enjoyed the movies he's appeared in, and I liked his guest spot on Criminal Minds.
It's a little more difficult than I thought it would be, to pack and watch movies at the same time.
On the plus side, I have so. much. less CRAP now, that packing should be a comparative breeze.
'Cause last time, it was pretty much what I expect hell would be like. Minus the flames and pitchforks, I suppose.
Some guy just messaged me and demanded to know what my match.com pic was all about. Dude, if you can't be fucked to look at more closely, maybe enlarge the damn thing, or READ THE FUCKING TITLE, you don't deserve to know that I'm standing with a stuffed animal lobster draped over one shoulder. It's conveniently titled POSING WITH LOBSTERS. Jesus. He didn't have to be so damn rude about it, either.
Okay, now my music player is playing "Oklahoma State of Mind", and just listening to Christian Kane's voice is a lot like turning on a vibrator. You know it's gonna get pretty good in a couple of minutes.
Damn, still have no idea why. I mean, he's SHORT. Comparatively speaking, that is. I like my men built like trees, tall and solid. Still, HOT.
Almost time to leave! Must dash!
POD-packing day: April 26.
And where is the new place, you ask? Dunno. Looks like crashing at Mom's for now. I'm gonna have to sleep in a hammock strung from the ceiling, because there's nowhere to set up a bed amidst all the clutter.
Unless the bid on the new house is accepted. Yes, Dad got a bee in his bonnet and is buying a house. I picked it out! Yay me! Everybody send us good wishes for success! *crosses fingers*
When I rule the world, there will be a new category for movie ratings: DD, for Dog Death. I rented I Am Legend and bawled my fucking eyes out. And of course they spend most of the movie getting the viewer all BONDED with the dog, and INVESTED IN ITS SURVIVAL, and then WHAM, DEAD DOG.
I'm instituting a new rule for myself: if there's a dog prominently displayed on the cover, DO NOT RENT. I'll just end up wanting to slash my wrists.
By contrast, I thought that Sweeney Todd was positively cheerful. I laughed my head off during the song where Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett are looking out the window at the passersby and concocting ad copy for each professional person as a meat pie.
I still have to watch Ratatouille, which of course should be lighthearted, and also a cheesy horror movie, The Plague, which I expect will be quite amusing. I'm not a huge fan of Van der Beek, but I've enjoyed the movies he's appeared in, and I liked his guest spot on Criminal Minds.
It's a little more difficult than I thought it would be, to pack and watch movies at the same time.
On the plus side, I have so. much. less CRAP now, that packing should be a comparative breeze.
'Cause last time, it was pretty much what I expect hell would be like. Minus the flames and pitchforks, I suppose.
Some guy just messaged me and demanded to know what my match.com pic was all about. Dude, if you can't be fucked to look at more closely, maybe enlarge the damn thing, or READ THE FUCKING TITLE, you don't deserve to know that I'm standing with a stuffed animal lobster draped over one shoulder. It's conveniently titled POSING WITH LOBSTERS. Jesus. He didn't have to be so damn rude about it, either.
Okay, now my music player is playing "Oklahoma State of Mind", and just listening to Christian Kane's voice is a lot like turning on a vibrator. You know it's gonna get pretty good in a couple of minutes.
Damn, still have no idea why. I mean, he's SHORT. Comparatively speaking, that is. I like my men built like trees, tall and solid. Still, HOT.
Almost time to leave! Must dash!
