Watched Gone in Sixty Seconds with Gus and Nick. The actress — I forget her name — is there for eyecandy only: she serves no purpose in the film. Annoying. On the QEW Toronto I saw a VW Golf sitting ass-forward on the shoulder, front crunched in like it had a piano dropped on it. A couple cop cars, lights on. The whole highway stopped to look, but at that point it was light traffic; the delay was momentary. Later, on the 403 Toronto, I was nearly rear-ended, a combination of three complete idiots doing 100 kph across all three lanes and an even more complete idiot behind me going at least 160, a person who didn’t seem to understand that driving a Sunfire that fast requires twitch-like reflexes. The lady that served me at Tim Hortons was far too cheerful for that time of night; why do they get the B-52 and I just get regular coffee? Operating a franchise restaurant must be at least as dangerous as driving a car. Listened to Mae’s Embers and Envelopes, the Pipettes’ selftitled disc, The Postal Service, Bright Eyes’ I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning, and just a very little Death Cab for Cutie. Just revewed this paragraph. It’s very long.
I’m contemplating making up one of those viral surveys that goes around the blogosphere every once in a while. Of course, I haven’t the faintest hope of it actually being viral: you know me, with the hard questions and long answers.
J.D. at the end of season 4 (I think). Interesting situation he finds himself in.
Have you ever taken a moment to celebrate the women in your life? You should. So should I. They’re wonderful… well, not quite people, you know, but… something. Creatures. Okay, you may hit me with your rolling pins for saying that. Digging myself out of a hole doen’t work? What?
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