suavely deranged

Sadly, oncet the TV gets shut off each night, the demons come racing in to fill the void. After all, nature abhors a vacuum.

Me, I hate TO vacuum. Or sweep. Or dust. Or scrub. Basically, I simply can't be bothered to clean. Unless there's company a-coming. Even then, it's halfhearted at best. Yes, I do have dustbunnies as big as tumbleweeds rolling across my hardwood floors. Whyever dost thou ask?

 

Song of the Day: Urge Overkill (yes, the same band that covered a Neil Diamond tune for Pulp Fiction)- Bottle of Fur. It's not as well known as Dropout (their best song) or Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon; but this is the kind of mood I'm in today in the wee smalls of an autumn Sunday. I'm fairly distraught over my beloved Houston Astros losing game 1 of the World Series. I realize that Fate and Shoeless Joe's ghost are against my boys, but hopes remain high. Sure, Roger Clemens got rocked, but we've still got Pettite and Oswalt; we'll be just fine. We WILL, dammit!

 

As I was watching the 1st 4 episodes of Veronica Mars yesterday afternoon, I realized that I'd never seen the 1st, expository episode before then. I'd been under the impression that the episode in which Paris Hilton (video) guest starred was the pilot; but, as usual, I was mistaken. I'm quite grateful that UPN decided to play this episode 2 consecutive weeks last year, as I originally had no intention of watching the show; but, since they kept hyping it and I was taping Eve right before it anyway, I figured why not? And I'm obviously appropriately glad that I did.

Now, y'all need to follow my example and take a chance and watch Dead Like Me (http://www.petitiononline.com/dlm1218/petition.html), tomorrow night on Showcase. Intelligent TV (there's an oxymoron) is quite rare and must be preserved, lest we turn into a generation of mindless automatons. Mmmm...pablum. To drop a little conspiracy theory on y'all: reality shows are the Devil. If we allow them to, that's ALL that the networks will air. Chumps seeking their 15 minutes, cash and prizes are a great deal cheaper than actors/actresses, after all. Not to mention writers, directors, and auteurs.

I do wish I'd come up with the concept behind even one of these vile fucking programs, though. Just think of all the coin I'd have to blow on hookers and heroin. All from my new crib in Las Vegas. Sigh.

 

To continue my constant half full VS. half empty debate: I'm now missing half a filling, and yes, it's quite annoying. I simply can't avoid running my tongue over the jagged edge. It can be quite unpleasant when food, cold liquids or even smoke get in there. Yes, I have dental. Yes, there's a dentist like 15 minutes from Stately Deranged Manor. No, I will not be visiting my local dentist until said tooth begins to fucking HURT, not just irritate. I've a quite high threshold for physical (emotional's an entirely different kettle of fish) pain. Well, that, and the office is closed today.

 

I ain't got much today, all my thoughts are focused on the fact that Garden State (LOVE me some Natalie Portman, although I'm not really feeling her latest magazine cover; I think Glamour), which I keep meaning to tape, but it hasn't been on at times when I've been home and awake; is on this morning. I'm even going to skip the 1st 1/2 hour or so of the early NFL games for the movie, so she'd best look the way I expect her to. Sadly, my beloved Seattle Seahawks (4-2 with a bullet, baby!) don't play until 2 p.m., long after my bedtime. But I'm with them in spirit.

 

Apparently, some community-minded folk hereabouts are organizing some sort of mass leaf raking ritual for this afternoon. Needless to say, since there was no mention of human sacrifice or an orgy, I'm going to opt for the ever-popular fuck off, I'm sleeping. Well, that, and I don't know for actual and factual that my lovely neighbor is participating. If I did know this beyond any reasonable doubt, I'd be out there raking my little heart out. It's all for the good of the community, after all.

I just hope they're relatively quiet or at least rake behind the crib whilst I'm still awake. Boiling oil is such a pain in the ass, and pouring it off the 2nd floor just doesn't quite have enough of the desired effect.

 

Y'all will have to forgive me if I repeat myself on occasion. After all, there are only like 7 stories in existence in all of creation, and everything else is simply a variation on one or a combination of several of them. Sadly, I'm not privy to what they ARE, so I'll be rumblin' bumblin' stumblin' My Way around for the duration.

 

The list:

 

1) Kitty Pryde (my 2nd favorite X-Man, after Rogue, naturellement. hopefully, whenever X-3 is released, she'll have a bigger role.)

 

2) Garcelle Beauvais (as Mix-a-Lot said: L.A. face, Oakland booty. bee-you-tee-full Nubian queen. I saw her in a catfight, whilst wearing a leopard Halloween costume, on one of the 1st episodes of the Jamie Foxx Show I've been fortunate enough to watch this weekend.)

 

3) Tina Majorino (occasional role as Mac, computer expert, on Veronica Mars. if I'd known there were hot computer chicks, I'd have actually taken that Intro to Computers course I registered for and rapidly dropped on more than one occasion in my university days. sadly, but understandably, given the life I lead back then (why, yes, I VERY much miss being that guy, the one your mommies warned you about; please don't rub it in too much, though, I'm Sensitive and I'd like to stay that way); I found it much too taxing to be awake in time for its noon start 3 days a week.)

 

4) Michele Merkin (leggy, blonde (nice tat on her lower back, too) and fine hostess of the Game Show Network's (I dropped Lone Star for GSN yesterday morning; all I watched thereabouts was Wanted Dead or Alive, anyway. McQueen's the fucking BOMB!) Extreme Dodgeball. somehow, I kinda doubt she does too much dodging when the balls are flying at her nose and chin and ass. mark me down as skeptical.)

 

5) Bonnie Somerville (star of Fox's Kitchen Confidential, yet another program which I'll never watch. she's got kind of a Kyra Sedgwick-lite/girl-next-door vibe going on, which I dig.)

 

All right, a shower, then my traditional Sunday breakfast and perhaps some more TV. I'll do my bestest to resurface again before bedtime. Enjoy your Sunday, y'all.