The Lord Told Me To Join The Army. So I Did.

Well, we're a bunch of posting muthas these days.
Chiropractic care is my new job, except I pay them. Discovered I have not one, but about 9 different reasons to have a headache. My assignment this weekend is to "change the space between my ears." and get my hope back.
I was not given any specific instructions as to changing "the space between my ears." I hope it involves booze.
We're watching Amadeus tonight because it's been a couple of months, and also it's his birthday. NPR hasn't missed a chance to tell us that this week.
I still haven't seen Brokeback Mountain, for which I feel ashamed, but here's the rub: it looks like a chick flick. A chick flick with hott guys who kiss each other, but a chick flick nonetheless. If the story was about a man and a woman it wouldn't even be on my radar, so do I go see it just for the cause? Or because Oprah told me to?
Because she did, earlier today. She looked right at me and said, "Go. See. It."
Fuck it, I loves me some Jake Gyllenhaal. Sprechen ze, sexy?
While we're on the topic of movies (when are we not?) I just saw a preview for The Pink Panther, and, as much as I love Steve Martin, Kevin Kline, and Befuckingyonce, would it have killed them to say Jean Reno's name, seeing as how he is featured in 75% of the ad?
If I were the French, I'd hate us too.