Parker Posey was in town for the Sundance Film Festival here and I completely forgot to stalk her.
In Which I Can Taste the Purple in the Air
Cold meds do wierd things to my brain spaces. Why am I only ever sick on the weeknds?
This was the same approach my friend Jon Deal detailed in an article explaining...– Me, on TUAW just now, about everyone’s friend they hate-to-love, Jon Deal. I wish I could have used this picture for the article: (via tj) You guys, TJ secretly loves me!
In Which I Give You a Warning or Two
In mid December I sat on my glasses. Snapped the temples right off one of the hinges. If you’ve ever been in my physical presence, the fact that I killed a pair of glasses won’t surprise you in the slightest. My glasses frequently sit on top of my head. Or next to my keyboard. I often tuck them in between the buttons of my shirt as if they were a pair of sunglasses and I were a...
In Which I'm Not As Worried About the Future As I...
I feel asleep watching “How I Met Your Mother” on Netflix. The 17YO is still up reading a Dickens novel. And he got accepted to college on Friday. Hey, at least I can grow a beard though, right?
McSweeney’s Internet Tendency: Monologue: Mitt... →
“I know some folks derive a kind of sick enjoyment from the quadrennial pageant of televised intelligence-abatement that is the United States presidential election, but it’s time to stop the charade. There is no primary. There is no general. There is only this: I am Mitt Romney’s haircut. This is my year, and I will not be denied.” From the “things I wish I’d written” file.
Either my downstairs neighbors are having wild, gay sex or they are just agreeing with each other *way* more than usual this Thursday evening; I’m pretty sure that they’re having a *much* more enjoyable night than me, given that all I’ve done tonight is write approxiamtely 850 words of a novel no one will ever read and fixed a co-worker’s laptop. But hey, it’s...
I’m alone, quite tipsy and not wearing any pants. Seems like kind of an awesome way to start out the New Year. Wooohoo! OK, seriously… where are my pants? I’m probably going to need those at some point later this year. I should head home back to my place soon, I think. Someone call me a cab.