Well, had Thanksgiving @ home with the family. I like to help, but mother pretty much takes over the cooking and leaves no one with any direction on how to do anything to help. Since I don’t want to be accused later of being a freeloader, I find something to do. Usually it’s cleaning up.
This process does not begin at the end of the meal, though; I start cleanup while everything is going on, that way I’m lookin’ busy, and also it keeps the workload more even. See, this way I can get a load of dishes and pots out of the way (maybe two loads) before the main course. Then when the main course is over, it’s just rinse and put in the washer. Easy as pie. French Apple pie…


...You Communist Terrorist Double-Crossing Bastard Spy
Also went to see the new Bond, Casino Royale. The movie was acted and shot well, but hell if I know what the fuck actually happened. Really, at this stage, all I know is that James Bond lived, a couple hot girls died, and Bond knows everything I do not.

Now, I can’t rate it lower because I’m too dumb to follow what’s going on. I’ll give it an easy A, and just make sure I stick to movies that tell me the plot well in advance. You know, stuff like Star Wars and Tombstone, where you know who the bad guys are and what’s going to go down well in advance.

Though I’ll give myself some credit for knowing the pretty girl was going to die (had to if this the first Bond, right?), figuring that she was either a double agent or caught in the middle of something bigger. Yay to me.


What’s with Dallas?
Suddenly they’re not half-bad? Hogwash. I want them to report to my chambers immediately; this is not according to plan. I swear, it’s like the ultimate reversal of what I had intended: Terrell Owens stinks like something I’m bound to leave in the bathroom later today, and Dallas is doing OK.

Along those lines, actually, I’m thinking I’m going to abandon Owens’ bandwagon. Dude’s dropping balls like his hands are taped closed. He used to have a ball-dropping problem a long time ago. But seriously, you should have practiced your way out of that by now. Sionara, sucker.



Dumb Southerner of the Day
I know I have yet to make it to work this morning, but let me place a bet that at least 3 –count them, THREE – dumb southerners will call and ask this question once I pick up the phone:
“Y’all open today?”

Nope. Once again, just happened to be near my office on my day off and thought I’d stop in and answer this ONE phone call, so that I could tell you this story and you’d know that in fact we weren’t open, even though I was here and answered the phone.

Peace.

Tags: hate