And no, I feel pretty fucking far from fine and am buying a condo in the neighborhood of dead inside. Good schools. Close to public transit.
But I digress.
Patrick McGoohan has left us. He was awesome in A View To a Kill. No, kiddies, it wasn't just a Duran Duran tune. He'll be missed.
And, Ricardo Montalban is Gone. No more Fantasy Island. No more Wrath of Khan. No more Senor Senor Senior. No more Rich Corinthian Leather.
I would, too. If'n I had any emotions.
As if that weren't enough, John Mayer will soon have his own variety show. Fucking CBS (shakes fist angrily)!
And then folks wonder why I'm always such a fountain of positive.
Oh well, for tonight, I'll wallow. The Running Man's on TV. I have chocolate cake. With white chocolate chips. I've booked me a cheap flight to fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada for my birthday in May (still have to book a hotel, likely the Palms, and Asian and African American hookers to keep me company simultaneously; what? it's my birthday).
AND, this humble little crime against humanity was rated 7 out of 10 by, I believe, blogger.com, the other day. I may just be able to sleep tonight.