this may turn your stomach...

How lovely. Tyson agreed to stop using carbon monoxide in its packaged meats. Hooray for Tyson!

Am I supposed to be glad about this? Instead of feeling glad I'm even more freaked out at the prospect of buying meat in a conventional grocery store. If companies are resorting to this type of thing, what else are they doing?

When food has to be shipped across the country (across the globe, in some cases...eek), companies resort to doing all they can to keep it fresh - or make it appear fresh. This is but one of the reasons I decided to only buy/consume meat if it comes from local farmers, not huge farm conglomerates like Tyson. Firstly, it comes straight from the animal to me, only traveling a hundred miles at most. Secondly, I am more apt to trust a local farmer on how he's raised and fed the animals than the factory farms, who are in this solely for the money, and as we see above, will literally do anything to increase the bottom line. Thirdly, it just plain tastes better, and I can be happy about supporting my local farmers.

Sheesh, though, I guess this could be considered a big step for Tyson. What's next? They stop shearing off chickens' beaks so they can't peck each other to death while crammed into small cages? They stop giving them feed found to contain arsenic, ammonia, and other chemicals? Wow. That's a whole lot to ask.

Man. Eating chicken is so not worth it.

guinness - magic ingredient

I made Guinness ice cream this weekend. It's amazingly good. It's made with Guinness, of course, molasses, and the regular ice cream ingredients. Highly recommended. I was telling a guy here at work about it, and he said the best ice creams are made with molasses, and I believe it.

I got the recipe from this site. She used the ice cream in a float with Harp - aka a black and tan, only with Guinness ice cream as opposed to Guinness itself. I haven't tried this, but it also sounds delicious.

So we're up to two things I make with Guinness - beef roast and ice cream. Both are very good. Can cooking with Guinness be wrong, I wonder? I think not.

for we're a jolly good fellow...

The hub-unit this morning called me to tell he he'd just realized the date - 8-23. Ten years ago today we had our first date. Or no, maybe it was ten years ago today that we first kissed. I say 'we', but really it was me planting myself on him. Probably by surprise, albeit a good surprise. Boy was shy. Yes, we kissed first before our first 'official' date. It was college. That kind of thing was commonplace. We went to see Money Talks with Chris Tucker. Again, it was college. You have to forgive the bad taste. I'm sure we hung out afterwards, but I don't remember that part. Sorry, honey - you know I have a bad memory. It's a miracle I even remember the movie.

I knew the big 10 was coming up. It's kind of mind boggling - like when you try to think about death, and your brain gets all murky and your head spins. I've been with the same person for ten years. I haven't been on a date with anyone else (well there was that one guy, but that didn't count, and the hub (boyfriend then) knew about it), haven't kissed anyone else (well, there was that one guy...just kidding! ha ha), haven't really even thought about anyone else in ten years. That's insane.

The best part is that it doesn't feel weird at all. In ten years we've had really only one big blowup fight, and that was barely a fight - we never yell and scream. We just get along so darn well. Best friends, really. I know, sick, stop, you're making us gag. I'm proud, that's all.

Here's to another ten! Maybe more, if the hub continues to behave himself.

no further commentary necessary

Here's a great comment from R. L. White of the NAACP:


'White also said he didn't understand the uproar over dogfighting, when hunting deer and other animals is perfectly acceptable.'



He uttered these genius words while explaning why the NFL shouldn't ban Michael Vick. Dear readers, I will spare you my assesment of this comment. I won't insult your intelligence. I myself have never hunted in my life, and I understand the difference between hunting and dogfighting. So he can't use that excuse.



Throw that nasty dog abuser in jail, already.

sweet justice

I saw something at lunch today that totally made my day. I went to Schnucks (after not finding onion soup mix at Wild Oats - grrr) on what could arguably be the hottest day of the year, walking to my car parked at the very back of the lot under a tree (this lot, unlike most in St. Louis, actually does have a tree or two). I see a big old nasty Mercedes SUV parked in the fire lane, and a cop pull up behind it and turn on his lights. The siren made a little blip - that's why I noticed it.

I finally made it to my car, hot and sweaty, feet sore from high heeled stilettos. I was pulling down the lane when I saw the cop finish up the ticket and walk towards the empty SUV. I was then lucky enough to see a woman hurry out of Schnucks towards the SUV clutching a bottle of water (side note - plastic). The cop handed her the ticket, and to her credit, she didn't appear to argue much, just took it and went. I gave the cop a round of applause (is it called that when you're alone?) and smiled bigger than life.

Why was she so special to get to park in the fire lane? Does she assume the rest of us like parking far away and hoofing it on a hot day? I went in there for one thing, just like her, but I did it the right way. Stinky bitch. First of all, you shouldn't park in the fire lane. But come on - if you're going to do it, don't be gone long enough for a cop to finish writing out a ticket. I've yet to encounter one who did it quickly. If you don't want to get out of your overpriced box on wheels, go through the McDonald's drive thru. I hear they've got a pool-sized soft drink for $.89 - what a value!

the lake

The lake was a blast. CB & V joined us for the entire time (and also joined us in a near-death canoeing experience, which was something, let me tell you), and N8 & MT came down for a day or two. It was so wonderful and relaxing. I tell you, there's not much better than spending your entire day relaxing on the water, coming home and grilling, and sitting around playing games the rest of the night. I need that kind of life. All this traffic, and rushing around to be places on time is for the birds. Work? Who needs it? I find myself growing more and more intolerant of these things.

I know, I know, you're saying 'But Norma Jean, you have to work! It's a part of life. In order to get the good things later on you have to put your time in now.'

And to that I say oh hell no. I say this hustle and bustle just isn't worth it. Why should I spend a good chunk of my life working for someone else, at a place I don't really care about? I mean it's a great company, and they're all great people, but let's face it, it's just not all that interesting. Spending 8 hours a day taking orders from other people and doing work for other people is not all it's cracked up to be. Shocking, I know. Don't get me wrong. They give orders in the nicest of ways. I know I'm treated well, very well, and the perks are amazing. I definitely know and appreciate that.

I've just come to the conclusion that this type of work just isn't for me. I don't like it. I don't like having to be somewhere for 8 hours a day if I have 2 hours of work. It's ridiculous. It's the system. Not everyone can be trusted on the honors system, so we all have to suffer. Why should I be here for 8 hours a day with 2 hours of work and not be allowed to surf the internet (you can see how much merit I give to that rule)? What the hell am I supposed to do? I know, help others. Find out what I can do to help. The tricky part is that my bosses pay me, not the company. So if I help the company I'm doing work for them while my bosses pay the price. Blah. I'm sick of thinking about it, and I'm sure you're sick of reading about it. All I know is that soon I'm going to cross the threshold of inability to keep these thoughts to myself at work, of inability to act as though I'm happy and satisfied, and that I give a crap about what we're doing (mom, dad, and moo excepted, of course).

Anyway, what I'm really trying to say is that we had a blast at the cabin, and coming from a week of spending wonderful, relaxing, quality time with my loved ones to work really sucks.

off to the lake

This afternoon we're off to our annual Fourth of July party at the cabin on Bull Shoals Lake. I've seriously been looking forward to this trip for months now. This year there are six of us going - the usual co-conspirators V & CB, and first-timers N8 & MT. My sis Cootie and her hubby might join us later on as we're going to be there through Sunday.

Doesn't it look amazing? It's the most gorgeous lake I've ever seen, which isn't saying much since I'm not a big lake fan. In fact I usually won't swim in a lake, but Bull Shoals is different. It's crystal clear, and clean, and refreshing. Not muddy at all.

So beginning tonight we'll be spending our days lounging on the lake, drinking beer, eating barbecue, and repeating. Delicious. And it'll be so great so share this with N8 & MT, who I'm sure will suffer 'lake addiction' once it's over just like the rest of us.

party like it's your birfday

Yesterday was my birthday. Yes, the big 3-0. No, I don't feel any different (does anyone on any birthday?). My sisters and brother-in-law decided to fork my yard in the shape of a big '30' with an exclamation point, which was funny when I saw it the next morning. The neighbor kid across the street told Q the forks looked like graves. They did.

It was a nice day. I went to lunch with friends from work, got some nice gifts (including a gift cert to one of my favorite places, Square One), and, best of all, got to spend the afternoon/evening at the hospital while my sister underwent an emergency appendectomy. Karma for the forks/graves, perhaps?

I did get to go to dinner at a yummy Mexican place near the hospital and got a good margarita while we waited for her in recovery. So that was nice. It was funny - after she went to her room and was all drugged up and cottonmouth, balancing a barf tray on her chest, she said she wanted to hear about my birthday. I told her she was looking at it! Really though, I'm just glad she's okay. Word of warning - when your stomach feels like it's going to explode, go to the ER. It might be about to do just that.

As my mother said last night - at least it'll be a birthday I won't forget.

six years and beer

On Saturday Q and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary in true 'us' style. Before eating dinner at Kobe Japanese Grill in Westport (a tradition as this is where we ate the night of our wedding, though it was Robata's then) we went to tour the O'Fallon Brewery.

O'Fallon is a small microbrewery in, you guessed it, O'Fallon, Missouri. It's actually a small pre-fab building buried in some industrial park off the highway. But when you walk in the first thing that hits you is the smell of brewing beer...possibly one of the best smells in the entire world. The tour is actually given by one of the co-owners, Fran. She and her husband own the brewery and call themselves co-owners - so cute.

Anyway, you actually get to see how the beer is made, though Q and I already know a lot about that from brewing our own. But it's cool to see how a small brewery does the same thing we do on a larger scale, but not as mammoth as Anheuser Busch. Plus we got to ask questions, taste the malt, see how they bottle, and sample each of their beers plus a few seasonal beers. Yum. I highly recommend the pumpkin beer when it's available in September. I don't usually like pumpkin beers, but this one is subtle. When the beer hits your tongue you taste a bit of pumpkin, then after you swallow you're left with cinnamon. Delicious. And we got to talk to one of the brewers who explained the process of making cask ale, and told us their cask ale is available at the Iron Barley, one of our favorite restaurants. I can't wait to try it.

It was a lot of fun. I highly recommend going there and doing the tour. The Anheuser tour is fun, of course, and it's cool to see some of the insides of a huge brewery, but this one is so neat because you have the opportunity to really see and understand how beer is made and actually talk to the people who make it.

the horror

WARNING - IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BABEL, DON'T READ THIS - SPOILERS!!!

Q and I watched Babel last night. I was excited to see it, especially after it won so many awards. I should know better by now. What a horribly depressing and sad movie. It was well acted, I suppose, and well done, but crap - talk about getting smacked in the face left and right with sad. There wasn't a moment where I wasn't wondering what horrible thing was going to happen next, or that I could even sit and relax and watch the movie - I was tense the entire time.

I just don't find that enjoyable anymore. I don't handle very well movies that deal with such tragedy. To watch the Mexican woman in such pain over not being able to see the kids, kids she's probably had more of a hand in raising than their own parents, was borderline unbearable. I almost got up and walked out (of my own living room) during the scene in the police station. Not so bad on it's own, I suppose, but after she was forced to leave that adorable boy in tears and his sister half dead under a tree in the desert, it was too much.

And the little boy being killed in the desert. Shit. That was awful. I kept waiting for the police to shoot the youngest one as he surrendered. The movie did end on a somewhat positive note, I suppose, for the Asian and American families, but even so. Life for them will never be the same.

I think I have such a hard time with movies like this because they're so real. I somehow internalize what's happening, and it literally makes me sick to my stomach to imagine that happening to me or my loved ones. It's just too painful to watch. I wonder afterwards, why did I sit there for well over 2 hours feeling tense and depressed? I do that for 9 at work every day for the love. That's enough for me.

I know there's probably some deeper meaning that I missed, some political spin, but to be honest, I don't care to think about it any more than I already have. If only all movies could be as great as Knocked Up - oh Judd Apatow, how you've spoiled my movie and TV watching experiences.

my dad

Sunday is Father's day. In the spirit of the times, I decided to write about a few of my favorite memories of my dad.

My dad was the sole bread winner in our family, which meant he worked a lot. So the times we shared with him were special. My mom dealt with us (my little sister and I) all day long, so pawning us off on Dad on his day off was a welcome change for her I'm sure. I remember Dad taking us (me and Cootie) to Wet Willy's, the coolest water slides of all time. The slides still exist (though are horribly run down) in Fenton, right at the intersection of 141 and 44, on that huge hill above the Steak 'n Shake. There were three slides (or two? I can't remember), and you went down them on a raft of some sort, and it was most fun to see how much weight you could pack on the raft to go as fast as possible. We'd go down, get out, run up the countless stairs, and repeat over and over until our little bodies couldn't take it anymore. We loved it.

Dad took us first to Naugles, the old taco joint (which I think has subsequently morphed into Del Taco, but I could be wrong), which seems now like a bad idea (tacos then waterslides?), but we loved it. Mom doesn't eat mexican, so for Cootie and I this was a special treat. Then we'd head down to the park, pay our money, and slide like banshees. We'd take turns going alone, or going with Dad, or just us girls. Cootie and I would go first, then wait excitedly at the bottom for Dad to fly out of the slide like a bullet into the pool below, always with a huge smile on his face. I remember Cootie and I being so excited about the prospect of spending the day with Dad. We always had fun.

Another favorite memory is waiting for Dad to come home from work. Cootie and I would hear the garage door open, and we'd take our usual places just behind the utility room (or junk room, as we called it) door and wait. Dad would close the garage door, come in through the heavy outside door, and we'd wait for him to emerge from the junk room then shout 'Surprise!' He acted surprised every time. Of course he knew we'd be there, but that didn't matter. His reaction kept us doing it time and time again. I remember so well the feel and smell of his trademark suits against my cheek whenever we hugged him afterwards.

My dad is a special guy, and I hope he has a great day on Sunday.

thoughts on plastic

This is a picture of a sea turtle nearly cut in half by plastic. His body has literally grown around it. This is what's happening with our plastic products nowadays - they're wreaking havoc in the sea, on land, and everywhere, and not just to animals, but to us as well.

This is from a great article called 'Plastic Ocean' in Best Life Magazine. Plastic never goes away. Every ounce we manufacture is here to stay. And recycling doesn't even help much since only 3%-5% of plastic is ever recycled, and it's actually much cheaper to make new than to recycle it, and everyone knows our big companies are out to make a buck and not to worry about how they might impact the world.

And there's no telling how it effects our food and our bodies. Studies have linked it to cancer (I know, like everything else, even delicious barbecue char) and even the obesity epidemic. Scary.

So read this article and think about it when you're out shopping. When you make your next purchase take it without a bag. Even more importantly, think about it at the grocery. Think about all the foods that come packaged in plastic, and about what alternatives might exist. Think about the environmental footprint you want to leave behind. Get your produce without the plastic bag. Opt for paper at the check out line. It's actually easy to find products packaged without plastic if you take an extra minute to look, and I think you'll find these products usually are of better quality and taste better. It's worth spending an extra quarter or so.

Also consider what you put into your trash can. Could it someday cause a world of pain and suffering to an animal? Take the time to cut your milk rings, or six-pack rings. One thoughtless toss into the can could change the life of an animal forever. Or in the case of the ocean, can produce more plastic than plankton for the fish to eat. If we're all a tiny bit more aware of how our actions can impact the entire world it'd make a ton of difference.

I'll leave you with this last picture, taken by Gregg Segal, a man who has dedicated his life to spreading the word about what we're doing to our oceans and animals. Our seabirds are eating things like lighters, tampon applicators, and bottle caps, and each and every one of us is partly to blame.

a very long year and a half

CNN apparently has changed their site to include a banner that says 'CNN ELECTION CENTER 2008' across the top. Are they seriously going to leave that up for a year and a half? That's ridiculous. Talk about extreme overkill. I'll probably have to change my homepage now. It'll annoy me too much.

Q and I went to the Tower Grove Farmers' Market on Saturday. We got some yummy bratwursts and pork steaks. They were more than we'd spend at the store (if we actually bought meat at the store), but it was well worth it. Not only are we getting good quality, hormone free meat, but it's raised by local farmers. A win-win situation. They had lots of other great things too, like cheese, lots of different lettuces, and even bison. Very cool. We're definitely going to go back. And the new grocery store, Local Harvest, opens up on Friday, so I can't wait to go.

We also made another batch of beer, this time an English brown ale. It'll be ready just in time for our annual trip to the lake over the fourth. It's bubbling away, which it did with the second batch but not so much with the first, so here's to hoping it turns out good. I'm sure it will. Now if July 3rd would just hurry up and get here, that'd be great. A whole 4 days at the lake, not including drive time. Fantastic.

a church i'm on board with

The Church of Stop Shopping. Nice.

working for the weekend

Being at work this week so far is difficult. We went camping with V & CB this weekend and after having such a great time it's even more difficult than usual. I find myself staring out the window, wishing I was lounging in the sun in a camp chair holding an ice cold beer. Or splashing around in a spring-fed creek. Or playing a game of ladder golf. Or discussing the creepy guy in a nearby site laying around by himself in his tent wearing jeans and a button-down shirt and waiting for him to kidnap (adultnap?) us while we sleep.

We went to the Paddy Creek campground in the Mark Twain National Forest - twenty or so miles from Licking, MO. It's very remote, without even running water or cell phone signals, which was great - we had a huge campsite to ourselves so we could be as loud as we wanted (overruling Q's paranoia). The weather was picture-perfect. Not a cloud in the sky for three days straight - the most amazing blue sky framed by huge trees. The night sky looked like a planetarium there were so many stars. Days spent relaxing, chilling with friends, drinking good beer, eating great food, nothing to worry about - I could get used to that.


The funniest part of the weekend (there were many - there always are when the four of us get together) was attempting to hike what we thought was the Paddy Creek Trail, a mile or so hike to a good swimming spot in the creek (as opposed to the concrete bridge - well not really a bridge but a spot where the creek flowed over the road). We got a little ways in and the trail ended at the creek, but definitely not what I would describe as a good swimming spot. So instead of taking the trail back we decided to wade the river back to the bridge. We had Chay with us. Chay's not afraid of getting wet (she'd already plopped herself down in the creek by this time to cool off), but wasn't especially happy about trudging through the water and kept trying to take off for dry land. But she kept going like a trooper. There were a few deeper sections that went to my waist that Chay wasn't able to navigate, so Q picked her up which was a feat unto itself - she does not like being picked up and hadn't ever let us do it. She put up with this twice, then put her foot down - no more. So Q had no choice but to lead her in and see if she would swim.

We've never seen her swim before, and weren't sure she could even do it. Greyhounds are so big and lanky. Some can swim, but some can't. Chay's been in the water, even up to her neck, but that's it. Her instincts took over and she swam like a pro. She made it to a part where she could stand, and stand she did, with her head held high. She totally knew she'd done something new, and was so very proud. Chay swimming is darned adorable with her pointy nose poking high out of the water. Such a cutie. We finally made it back to the bridge where we lounged around for a few hours like complete hoosiers. Letting our true colors shine through. Chay was toast the rest of the day after her little ordeal. I'm curious to see whether she'll try it again this summer at the lake.

Another interesting moment was waking up the first morning and not finding Chay's metal food bowl that I'd put a secure lid on the night before. After asking everyone if they'd put it away, we determined it'd been stolen by an animal. Yum. And animals getting into the trash cans across the way. Can't blame 'em for wanting a tasty treat, I suppose. As long as I'm not the tasty treat I'm good with it. Have at it.

I've got to find some way to live in an amazing, secluded place without a job - at least not a corporate job. Anyone? Ideas? I'm feeling an odd need to reconnect with nature and give up most of my worldly belongings including but not limited to pantyhose and heels. Early mid life crisis perhaps?

blink an eye and they fly II

It seems the frequency of my posting correlates directly with my workload here at the good ol' 9-5. Or 8-5. Whatever happened to 9-5, anyway? Dolly? Seriously, I think I've had maybe five substantial things to do this entire week. Come on. I like the internets as much as the next person, and am constantly amazed by the fantastic content out there like this site (good for at least a daily cackle), there's only so much aimless surfing one can do.

Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of the death of my friend, Shorty. Do you call it that? An anniversary? I guess, even though it seems kind of weird. To me 'anniversary' evokes good feelings. How about death day? Like 'yesterday was Shorty's death day?' I suppose there's no good way to say it. It's awkward no matter what.

Kind of like figuring out what to get to put on her grave. Flowers? They seem so cheesy, and Shorty wasn't a flower kind of girl. Plus the crappy Snoocks I went to didn't have a great selection. The cheapest ones were over $6. Somehow spending that on something that will sit and die on Shorty's grave didn't seem right to my frugal (that's one way to say it) self. So I opted for a small potted plant. It had reddish leaves and big red blooms. Not flowers, more like a cone shaped thingy. A botanist I am not. This one set me back $2. Much better. And it'll probably last a lot longer than flowers.

The awkwardness followed me again to the cemetery. This time I found her grave without much trouble, unlike the past few times (once I had to get someone from the cemetery to help me - seriously awkward. Apparently I'd made a mental note the last time that it sat under a small tree, and there it was. It was just like last time. The little dog was still there, looking a bit worse for the wear. Stuffed animals + outside elements = not a great combo. There were some fake flowers in the little vase on her headstone, and a bunch of red roses that had been there for some time. They were one step away from being reclaimed by the earth.

It was a beautiful day. To push away the awkwardness, I set to work arranging her things on the headstone. I brushed off errant leaves and whatnot, and cleaned the grass sprayed by a mower off of the vase. I got a pen from my purse to write 'Miss you Shorty' on the flowerpot. I took a couple of pictures (morbid, yes, but the light and angle were perfect to capture her last name, the flowerpot, the vase with fake flowers, and the dog keeping guard beneath it). Then I ran out of things to do. What does one do at a cemetery? It's weird. I felt like a tool standing there, so I sat down for a while. The sun was nice. The day was very similar to her last death day (yes, that's better, feels more natural). I thought about what we used to do on these days back in college, and sent good thoughts out to her, wherever she is.

Then I got back in the car and listened to Terri Gross on NPR interview Alice Cooper. Great interview. He's quite a guy.

dilemma

I have to make a tough decision. There are two things going on next Wednesday night, and I have to decide which to do. Q and I have been invited to go to the Cardinals game, which is great, but it gets better. The tickets are in the second row behind home plate in the green seats, which means we get all the free food and drinks we want. And we don't have to pay for the tickets. So we'd get to see the Cards up close, get free food and drinks, and only have to pay to park. I've been in the second row from the field, but it was behind third base, so we were basically dodging fly balls all night. And actually saw (and heard) a woman get hit square in the face, which was scary.

On the other hand, though, Dimmu Borgir is playing at Pops that night. They're a black metal band from Norway. I like going to shows, but normally I wouldn't have a hard time picking a Cards game over a show, especially in these seats. But I hate to miss the opportunity to see this band. I'm sure they've got a great stage show, and this is the kind of music that sounds incredible live.

Tough decision, especially for someone who doesn't like making decisions. Sometimes life can be so difficult.

UPDATE: homebrew

Okay, so Q pointed out that maybe I was being a bit overdramatic (I can't imagine that) when I said our wheat was the best I'd ever tasted. I was thirsty and it was hot, okay? It did taste pretty darn good. And still does.

i am so-ore

We fared well in the kickball tournament this weekend. Saturday was the brackets for the bad teams, while the good teams got a bye until Sunday. We played in four games Saturday, making it all the way to the final game (the final two teams left standing went on to play on Sunday), then losing. Which was fine, actually. We were all so sore, there was no way we'd be able to play on Sunday. But it was a blast. Free beer and food, good company, amazing weather - can't beat that. The best moment was in our third game, which was 2-1 (the other team), right up until the final inning. With two outs, one of our guys kicked a bomb into the outfield, and they missed it. We ended up scoring three runs and beating them. It was quite a moment, one of those that only happens in movies.

The whole day was eerily similar to our tournament run a few years back. We ended up making it to the final game after barely beating out the team in the third game, then lost to the most annoying, obnoxious team in the world. It's actually kind of creepy.

That night we went to dinner with friends at Chuy's, then were too tired to go out afterwards. We're such geezers. But on our way home we were stopped at a light on Hampton behind a cop. I just knew he was going to flip on his lights and go through, and sure enough, that's exactly what he did, only to flip them off right after he got through the light. That is so irritating. Just as irritating as a cop, without his lights on, speeding. I was heading up Big Bend to work the other day and a cop was totally on my ass. I wasn't about to start speeding to accommodate him, so after a while, I got into the other lane (I was in the slow lane, mind you), and he zoomed past me, still without lights on.

How is this allowed to happen? It's not an unusual occurrence. I see cops speeding all the time. How are we expected to go the speed limit when they can't even do it? Whatever happened to leading by example? Our cops should go the speed limit, and that's it. There should be big repercussions if they don't. If they're off duty, not in a uniform and not in a marked car, then whatever. They can do whatever they want to do. Go a hundred miles per hour for all I care. But shit, when they're on duty, go the fucking speed limit. It's so irritating. Why not spark up a joint while you're at it? Might as well have a beer or two! Oh for the love.

baffling

Q and I watched two movies this weekend - The Departed and Half Nelson. I thought The Departed was just so-so, while Half Nelson was amazing (not to mention it stars the very attractive Ryan Gosling). It made me wonder, yet again, what the hell the Academy is thinking when it chooses the best picture of the year. This year The Departed was up against The Queen, Babel, Letters from Iwo Jima, and Little Miss Sunshine.

I've only actually seen The Departed and Little Miss Sunshine, but even Little Miss Sunshine was miles better than The Departed. Totally overrated. I thought the acting was mediocre at best, and the movie really dragged through the first half. Plus it felt like I'd seen the same move at least a few times in the past. How can the Academy pick a movie with mediocre acting? It's all rigged. I'm convinced. Titanic, anyone?