Sometimes I like the word vendetta
Watching Sin City this weekend didn't bring out my dark, violent side.
No, not at all. Really. And I swear by all that is holy that there is no sword in my underwear drawer, sais in my t-shirt drawer, or a small arsenal of projectile weapons behind my shelves.
Speaking of holy things, the Pope died. It's really kind of freaky, but that's only because I just finished reading Angels and Demons by Dan Brown (the DaVinci Code guy.) In that book, the Pope dies and all kinds of crazy shit goes down. Now the real Pope dies, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from calling the Vatican and telling them to check the necropolis for antimatter before they lock the cardinals in for conclave.
Nothing really productive went on this weekend. Got in a fight with my father over apartment stuff; picked up my sister's prom dress; hung out with Tom for a bit, because I haven't seen him since I've gotten back from WA; went to work and found out that the choir director got fired; watched the CSI from Thursday night and wasn't very impressed; watched a little bit of Lara Croft 2 and was happy when the parts that mattered (read: that part on the boat with the handcuffs) didn't skip; walked through a mud puddle... twice, actually.
Thought for about three hours that going to school for investigation and shooting for a spot in the FBI was stupid and pointless and considered going to Plan B. I would so make a kickass mermaid. Then I figured I could work as a mermaid and moonlight as an FBI agent.
[I really wish it was eleven o'clock]
The Weeki Wachee mermaids should really look into getting tails made by
Tail Man instead of the fabric ones they have. Or if they have his fabric ones, then they should switch to latex. I'm sure they could get a discount on them (but how much could a discount matter when one tail retails through Neiman Marcus for about ten grand?)
[I really wish it was eleven o'clock]
No, not at all. Really. And I swear by all that is holy that there is no sword in my underwear drawer, sais in my t-shirt drawer, or a small arsenal of projectile weapons behind my shelves.
Speaking of holy things, the Pope died. It's really kind of freaky, but that's only because I just finished reading Angels and Demons by Dan Brown (the DaVinci Code guy.) In that book, the Pope dies and all kinds of crazy shit goes down. Now the real Pope dies, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from calling the Vatican and telling them to check the necropolis for antimatter before they lock the cardinals in for conclave.
Nothing really productive went on this weekend. Got in a fight with my father over apartment stuff; picked up my sister's prom dress; hung out with Tom for a bit, because I haven't seen him since I've gotten back from WA; went to work and found out that the choir director got fired; watched the CSI from Thursday night and wasn't very impressed; watched a little bit of Lara Croft 2 and was happy when the parts that mattered (read: that part on the boat with the handcuffs) didn't skip; walked through a mud puddle... twice, actually.
Thought for about three hours that going to school for investigation and shooting for a spot in the FBI was stupid and pointless and considered going to Plan B. I would so make a kickass mermaid. Then I figured I could work as a mermaid and moonlight as an FBI agent.
[I really wish it was eleven o'clock]
The Weeki Wachee mermaids should really look into getting tails made by
Tail Man instead of the fabric ones they have. Or if they have his fabric ones, then they should switch to latex. I'm sure they could get a discount on them (but how much could a discount matter when one tail retails through Neiman Marcus for about ten grand?)
[I really wish it was eleven o'clock]