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(Last night's entry... Windows� ate it. Let's see how much I can remember from 2 AM) A half-lidded stumble through Zombieland. Though, it must be said that I wasn't the only one. Surely this will cause a ShitFit somewhere, but among the differences I've observed between most men and women is the tolerance of, and enthusiasm for... shopping. Case in point: propped up by a cart behind Miss Jane yesterday. To her credit, it was a hit-and-run event, so I can't bitch excessively... plus, I was nursing self-inflicted wounds of the alcoholic kind. Still... it's like walking through hell in gasoline drawers. Shrieking kids. Big, surly asses strategically centered in the aisles. Deep Discounts From Hell. And then, I noticed the eyes of the passers-by... Women, the steely hunters. Men, the comatose followers. It sent me scurrying for the uneven footing and wildness of the woods, just before sunset. Hackin' through the bracken... chasing out poachers who find it clever to set up tree stands on posted property... rediscovering boundary markers reclaimed by the undergrowth. Quality time. Sufficiently poked by briars and wreathed in darkness, I made my way back home for an anti-climactic Saturday night. Work on Sunday, to pay back for Wednesday. Feck. Made the best of it, though. Played with one of my presents, the laser-level... which, as an added bonus, drives the cat insane. I shot a dot at the floor, after loading the batteries... which Uni immediately leapt for. Snaked it across the floor, the cat following at a tear through the house. Switched off, and I swear that the cat crouched on claw-tips for an hour afterward... head darting spasmodically. A-Hah, my Secret Weapon! Nightcap, double feature: Santo vs. La Invasion De Los Marcianos... masked Mexican wrestler against nefarious aliens... en espag�ol with subtitles. Iron Chef... Morimoto clashing yet again with the Ohta Faction. God, the lameness of my amusements. Damn Right. Return Of Digital PrePress Zombieland, in a matter of hours. |
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