"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 Animals Came Two By Two

D-Day. I got an e-mail from MoveOn today advising me to wear blue to the movie tonight, complete with talking points in case of reporters. I am a fan of MoveOn et al, but I should hope I'd be able to come up with my own talking points (not to mention wardrobe, though blue was already on the agenda, lest you think I succumbed). If I couldn't, I'd be a Republican. What I'm hoping for is protesters. White House staff was having a field day trying to discredit Michael Moore on the morning shows today (I've been having bouts of odd 6-8am insomnia lately) but, after switching to Comedy Central, I fell asleep right after Jon Stewart said Michael Moore was coming up next. Damn. I do love the assertion (assumption?) that this film is going to radically change the political landscape. Or the notion that the film is or is not journalism. Michael Moore can't tell me anything I haven't known about Georgie liar pants since day one, and George W. really needn't worry about losing my measly little liberal vote over it. I do, however, expect to be fully entertained, because that is what Moore does best.

In case my multiple attempts at notification have failed, the 7:50 show is sold out. Don't even try it. We're going to the late show. I'm sorry if this affects anyone's curfew, or house arrest stipulations. My personal vote for dinner falls in the Sushi or Indian categories, but I can be down for whatever.

If you need me, I'll be out back, finishing up the Ark. Now taking applications for those who want to live through these rains. I fear I may run out of pitch.

Oh, Ahnold.