Weekend

Well now. Intriguing as this weekend has been, I remember surprisingly little of it. Perhaps it is due to the added stress that comes with the anticipation of report cards, which, now filed, are due to arrive any day now. And until my grades do come and reassure me that I'm not as big a failure as I believe I am, I will just have to sit here on my fat surplus and wait patiently. Just wait patiently... while a single number sears itself into the back of my head and makes the anxiety almost as torturous as that of waiting a week for a certain individual to deny an invitation to the high school promenade. Likewise, it is not the result that kills you but the waiting. Waiting and thinking. And worrying. And waiting.

But I mentioned a number, yea, that's grating against my better judgement to digress. I've been described as "Master Lazy 2k" by a panda bear who is so identifiable by this statement that naming him is repetitious. In maintaining this title, I've come to the realization that I am more willing to work when it could lead to doing less work later on. Vis-à-vis, I am motivated by tasks that increase my ability to be lazy. This leads me to what I call "optimized inefficiency": doing the least amount of work possible to get acceptable results.

I'm babbling now. Prattling on. Bullshitting. My suspicions will be confirmed when the letter arrives. Until then, no use rambling. Agreed? Agreed. Balls.

So Thursday is a blank after 2:30 PM and Friday is a large blur. I do have a lesson to draw from this, however. Should you ever get drunk and decide that it's a good idea to go through the woods, walk, do not run, and avoid jumping (kicking dirt into your face) and walking straight into thorny bushes. And it's generally a good idea to avoid sprinting and/or racing a sober pal. My hamstrings are definitely killing me, but that may be because I could feel virtually no pain and for some reason tried to touch my toes. Yes, good, whatever, respect my authoritah or I'll kick your ass.

I rented Good Night, And Good Luck because it's such a great film. Or at least I think it is. I may be biased due to my first viewing of it (the experience more so than the company; don't flatter yourself, hon'. Well, flatter yourself a little... lot). So yeah. It's not anti-Bush or anti-American at all, unless you can somehow make a connection between Bush and McCarthy other than the obvious "They're both Republicans" argument. John F. Kennedy and John Kerry are both Democrats. Kay? The film's got a much more profound message concerning television/mass media that I agree with completely. And I got it to make my claim more credible to the guy at the desk. I get to rent Memoirs of a Geisha for free, which just tickles my fancy. Tickles it pink. I avoided an "Andy's Hot Pink Mom" joke here since few people would get it and nobody would laugh. Yeah, I'm that fucking courteous.

Inside Man makes many racist remarks, but it's okay because it was directed by a black guy. Black people are allowed to make white people look racist. And there were Nazis. Racism and Nazis, who would've thought? But one theme in this movie is that a lifetime of good deeds doesn't make up for a single atrocity. Spike Lee prolly thinks Tookie deserved to die. Good. If he doesn't he's a fucking hypocrite. "That's one hell of a shit hole." And Denzel definitely called Jodie Foster Ms. White and told her to kiss his black ass. A minority of the people in the audience laughed. Minority majority, racial comment, don't lynch me please.

Thai egg rolls are better than Vietnamese egg rolls. They were both called "spring rolls" but Jeanne yells at me for calling them that because she thinks she's more Asian than I.

So yeah. I have shit not to be doing.