"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


The implications of the double negative

I can think of few things I love/hate more than being forced to choose between two (even three) friends. I'd be flat-out lying if I said having my company begged, guilted, and ordered by two dear, old friends at once didn't appeal to some massive pocket of vanity stuffed deep down in my being. But having to actually choose between said friends utterly kills me. That said, Chad and I had a fantastic time on Friday night. It's easy sometimes, given my current financial and educational status, to forget sometimes that I am no longer nineteen, and that I should be effecting the behavior of a lady of some age. If there is anything that is effective in reminding me it's a martini in one hand, a dashing man on my arm, and a conversation in which The Iliad and the Bible are quoted to demonstrate why Neil Gaiman and Daniel Quinn should be invited to the next White House State Dinner. Or something like that. I heart you too, Chad, I hope you have fun in New York.

My sincerest apologies to Adam and Eric. I hope they'll find it in their hearts to forgive me. Just let me know my penance and I'll submit happily. I am your slave, do your will (but may I commit the sin of begging your most holy mercy?).

I got to talk to Anna and Randy! I got to talk to Anna and Randy! I can't wait until they come back so this burning fire of jealousy will subside. And, of course, I miss them horribly. And I got the good news Ryan is coming for a visit!

Over beer and Big Fish, Anna Rockanova and I lamented this idyllic summer of jobless recovery can't go on. But man is it nice.

After a full viewing of the uncut version of Kill Bill, vol.1 I rescind my earlier statement, that movie does rock a little. Now I would very much enjoy a viewing of the second installment, but I may just wait until I can get my hands on another uncut version, as the fight scenes were vastly more impressive with the addition of a bit o' the old ultra-violence. Maybe I should call that ├╝ber-violence. Who doesn't love entrails?

Listening to: Bebe Neuwirth reads "Snow Glass Apples"