So I realized, in the middle of swiping a customer's credit card through the till today, that I am working retail during Christmas, and therefore I am asking for pain and should just accept it without question.
Despite this, today I rang up
Paul Scheer. I realized it was him half way through and smiled goofily at myself when I came to the realization. He probably caught on, too. Heh.
So I'm really into Watchmen right now. I cannot put this damned book down. Allan Moore! You slayeth me with your writing. The plot is one thing, but the narrative. Oh the narrative. Especially the one chapter with Dr. Manhattan on Mars. Ahhhh. (What a great contrast to the chick lit I read the other day - The Nanny Diaries - which was a sort of release from school meant to turn my mind to mush).
Does anyone have a Kaboodle?
Here's mine! Show me yours.
This joke (of sorts) was mentioned in Watchmen, and, although I don't know what page it's on, was illustrated in such a meticulous, well done manner - when I saw it, I knew this book was better than just good:
Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel.
Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague
and uncertain. Doctor says the treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci
is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up. Man bursts into
tears.
"But doctor . . . I am Pagliacci."