Before I forget, ridiculous book club is tonight! I mean, I already HAD forgotten and some organized person in the comments mentioned it and I was all, oh crap.
Anyway, bring your deep thoughts on The Thorn Birds back here at 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time. Wear your ashes of roses finest. I would like to once again point out we had ALL SUMMER to read this book, this deep deep book, so what's YOUR excuse, bub?
In other news, I talked to my friend Charlie, the one who slipped on a goddamn log and broke his neck last month. He gets out of the hospital this coming Wednesday and will continue physical therapy. I am not clear on what he's able to move or not, and it seems somehow tawdry to talk about specifics anyway. I mean, if I had broken my neck and had paralysis, would I want everyone yammering on about the particulars? I don't think I would. I haven't asked him how he feels about it, I just kind of tried to put myself in his place and I think it'd feel like, I don't know, morbid curiosity or something.
You know?
But what does matter is he is still in excellent spirits, and every time I even THINK about complaining about my stupid foot I say: You know, asshole, Charlie is in good spirits and he'd be DELIGHTED to be limping around on a sore heel. So why don't you very kindly go fuck yourself, you whining pee-hole.
Maybe my self-talk needs some work.
Speaking of talk, Ned lives high up, and yet when people downtown are drunkenly parading down his street, we can totally hear them. Sometimes people walk by too fast and I'm all, I wanted to hear the rest of what they had to say!
Anyway, today we were talking about how men talk to each other, and the things they do talk about and the things they don't, and Ned was saying he recently got together with an old friend and they talked at length about the bitches they were dating.
"I didn't think men even discussed their relationships," I said. "Sure they do..." Ned began, and right then someone stampeded past his house, on his phone.
"You show them bitches more love than they show you? Them bitches take advantage," said old Confucius or whoever it was out there. Spreading his wisdom. In his ungrammatical way, he was right, of course.
"See?" said Ned, proving his point like he'd hired the guy.
In other news, we went to see The Big Lebowski with Dick Whitman and his girlfriend, who did not officially give me permission to splay her on my blog so I won't.
See. Now I feel bad. I have Whitman with his bitches except I cut her out. I really like her. I feel awful.
Anyway, they were showing the movie at that old theater we like, and they served white Russians, which is only funny if you know from the movie. Oh, and happy birthday, Sue. Whoever the eff you are. Whoever the eff that bitch is. I need to get over calling women "bitches." That guy was just such an influence.
DW did his thing where he ate three peanut M&Ms and was gonna toss the rest before I once again rescued them.
Oh this is good! Here is the back of The Girlfriend's head and me being earnest. You know how I am. Anyway, she can't get mad I showed this, right? DW got up and took this. Because he needs to capture everything on film.
Including whatever the Sam Holy Hill I was talking about here. Do we really want to know? Do we?
Yesterday, Ned and I went to see that new Michelle Williams movie, where she's married to Seth Rogan, which, what are the chances of that, ever, in real life? Anyway it was a really good and also depressing movie, which means Ned adored it. There was plenty of naked Michelle Williams, which means Ned adored it. There was also naked Sarah Silverman, and don't nobody never need to see any of that mess.
First of all, for some reason Sarah Silverman bugs the carp out of me. I am unsure why. I think maybe it seems like she thinks she's the funniest person ever and she really isn't. No, I DON'T see any similarities, so why don't you very kindly go shut up and stop talking about your heel?
Anyway, it turns out she has kind of a disproportionate body, as well. And that is not good to see on the silverman screen, up yonder.
I know you are all obsessed with the Edsel story, but now I have spent forever trying to upload these pictures, which for some reason gave me trouble because DW emailed them to me and it was a whole thing. Anyway, he comes back in the end, Edsel does, but I will still tell the story maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. What're you gonna do?
Them bitches take advantage.
