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So, this is what it has come to. My thirst for obscure French psycho-dramas has become so all-consuming that Netflix has resorted to shipping my DVDs from Denver. If you're not into François Ozon, you should really check out his movies, starting with 8 Femmes (8 Women), Swimming Pool, Les Amants Criminels (Criminal Lovers), Le Temps Qui Reste (Time to Leave) and Sitcom. Here's a short he made in 1994, Action Verite (Truth or Dare).
Fucked up shit.
On another note. If anyone ever tells you that being sick is fun, they are lying. Don't listen to them. My head has felt like it was made of bricks since Saturday, and my stomach refuses to cease its relentless gurgling. I deeply regret hauling my decrepit carcass into work today.
Finally, if you haven't picked up the latest issue of Vice you should, because they finally got around to printing something worth reading: the Ficiton Issue. Loads of cool stories, from the likes of Neil LaBute, Chuck Palahnuhik, Richard Hell, etc. I know, I actually read a copy of Vice! Out of control.