Call.

h2o-heaven-knows-im-miserable-now.mp3

Beacon Hill Noir

Frosti

It doesn’t get snowy here so much as crunchy.  But you have to admire the night-for-day effect when clouds reflect the light pollution.

The Curious Case of Jennjamin’s Butt

Since I hate everything, and I like to posit from a shaky pedestal that the 90’s were Where Everything Went Wrong with regard to the Academy Awards, I’m going to try to see all the nominated films this go-’round. Even though I have to sit through B. Button and Milk, which I presume I will yawn through, having already seen the damn good documentary.

After that, I will start watching all the films nominated for Best Picture ever, in chronological order. Hold me to this, will you?

So next year, I’ll be either abashed (either because the Academy has always sucked, or because I end up finding The Green Fucking Mile palatable) or even more of a snide, pretentious hellcat.

Also, my camera’s broken.

“Moo-ray? Oh, Murray.”

I do that all the damn time.

“Newty-pee? What kind of magazine is that?” “That’s NewType.”

“Ray-moh-knees. What did you write on here?” “That’s a Ramones cd.”

Non-believers

I don’t mind the phrasing. I am just thankful to have been included.

Nope

Intentionally-obvious Auto-Tune is a quick and easy signal that it’s time to change the radio station. See also: Muse.

Fluorescent and starry

In high school I was as I am now: fairly smart but without ambition.  When I got my D in Algebra II in 1oth grade, I put math behind me, and had a free period at the end of the day as a junior. Sometimes I could drive home, eat Ramen, and come back for my friends, but on the days Chris Wilkes drove, I’d have to sit in his car for 50-plus minutes until everyone else in the carpool finished class.  And when I did, I would listen to New Adventures In High Fi, on cassette, alone in the parking lot in a blue Chevy Nova.

So, thanks to Fig-face, today has sounded a lot like 1997.

(That’s what keeps me down.)

Pthbb

Doubt is a waste of film.  There’s just nothing novel or interesting there. Spent most of the two hours wondering where I could find one of those jet-black nun bonnets.

I love P.S. Hoffman, but he has to stop accepting every Round Guy in Pain role.

Copyediting AND a “your face” joke?!

Or, Jenn As Cat.