I'm just a teensy bit frantic this morning, as I look around my house and see four floors' worth of shit.
How in the hell am I going to get this stuff out of here in the next week? There just seems to be so much, in every corner.
We've got an enormous pile of crap in our "living room" that is set to go to Goodwill... but still. Even assuming that goes this weekend, I still have appliances, clothes, entertainment stuff, furniture, junk I actually want to keep... the mind boggles.
I think I still have a lot of work in front of me.
Just wondering... how did last night's barbeque with Chris and Noel turn into the midnight edition of The McNeil-Lehrer Report?
Maybe it had something to do with watching Good Night, and Good Luck (again)?
Last weekend, as I was introducing my Dad to my iPod (family's gotta meet family, y'know), he asked me whether one's hearing could be damaged by excessive iPod use, especially if it was turned up too loud.
Seems that Apple was listening.
The NME is "reporting" that the Smiths were offered a sum closer to $10M to reunite, rather than the paltry $5M that had been reported only last week.
Does this mean that Morrissey is holding out for $25M? Does the Mozfather play like that?
You know, it continues to amaze me that noted Grumposaurus Rex Harrison Ford is able to stay in character for months, even years at a time. He's worn that same frown for, what? Decades, now?
Well, now word comes that, in addition to hating kids that run on his front lawn, Han Solo hates the internet.
What??? I am personally offended.
How can he possibly hate the internet when it gives us oldies but goodies like this?
Have you received your tarot reading from the Flaming Lips?
A companion piece to something I posted on a week or so ago: I wants the gold.
By the way-- I have two fanshmabulous games for you today: "Don't Shoot the Puppy" and "How Much?"
Try not to throw a brick through your computer screen.
Rest in peace, Professor Ferguson.