Drip drip drip goes the toilet
We had snowfall in Boston on Saturday. It has begun. Boo.
So there’s some unruliness happening at the White House, huh? I am what you might call a disgrace to journalism. That has less to do with the fact that I’m not making any use of it in my current work situation and more to do with the fact that I don’t touch newspapers, don’t watch television, and keep myself more or less out of The Loop. It’s not apathy; it’s very deliberate. But the guy with whom I’m sharing an office, now he knows a thing or two about what’s going on in our big, bright world. So consider me informed.
Two notable things happened this weekend!
(1) I saw my very first, pre-Basic Instinct movie starring Sharon Stone. She appeared in 15 or 20 movies before the uncrossing and, despite my fixation on the woman, I never had much interest in seeing anything that came before. I rented Total Recall last month but I… just… couldn’t make it through the film. Arnold. Yuck. So this weekend, I watched Year of the Gun, a 1991 terrorism thriller starring Andrew McCarthy as a dopey American writer living in 1978 Italy and Stone as a danger-fucking opportunist photojournalist. (I want to put that on a resume, dammit.) It was a pretty dopey movie but my girl did alright.
(2) I met vergence in person. The snow came down just when I started walking to meet him at his downtown hotel. And we both wussed out and hung out at my apartment instead of, you know, building a snowman or something. Then again, it just wasn’t that kind of snow. Otherwise, I’d be all over the snowman thing. Anyway, Mr. Mike is funny and tall and handsome just as I hoped he would be. Lucky me. Also, I met his friend Russell, who I believe is known as euroholic in these parts. I didn’t get a chance to talk with him very much but he also seemed like a nice guy.
And apparently these Atlanta fellows consider Bostonians to be very friendly indeed. Who knew?
So there’s some unruliness happening at the White House, huh? I am what you might call a disgrace to journalism. That has less to do with the fact that I’m not making any use of it in my current work situation and more to do with the fact that I don’t touch newspapers, don’t watch television, and keep myself more or less out of The Loop. It’s not apathy; it’s very deliberate. But the guy with whom I’m sharing an office, now he knows a thing or two about what’s going on in our big, bright world. So consider me informed.
Two notable things happened this weekend!
(1) I saw my very first, pre-Basic Instinct movie starring Sharon Stone. She appeared in 15 or 20 movies before the uncrossing and, despite my fixation on the woman, I never had much interest in seeing anything that came before. I rented Total Recall last month but I… just… couldn’t make it through the film. Arnold. Yuck. So this weekend, I watched Year of the Gun, a 1991 terrorism thriller starring Andrew McCarthy as a dopey American writer living in 1978 Italy and Stone as a danger-fucking opportunist photojournalist. (I want to put that on a resume, dammit.) It was a pretty dopey movie but my girl did alright.
(2) I met vergence in person. The snow came down just when I started walking to meet him at his downtown hotel. And we both wussed out and hung out at my apartment instead of, you know, building a snowman or something. Then again, it just wasn’t that kind of snow. Otherwise, I’d be all over the snowman thing. Anyway, Mr. Mike is funny and tall and handsome just as I hoped he would be. Lucky me. Also, I met his friend Russell, who I believe is known as euroholic in these parts. I didn’t get a chance to talk with him very much but he also seemed like a nice guy.
And apparently these Atlanta fellows consider Bostonians to be very friendly indeed. Who knew?