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It’s writ­ten in the moon­light and painted on the stars

It’s not that there’s been a lot going on, it’s just that there were things to do and that some­how mag­i­cally took me away from the com­puter.
On Friday or per­haps Saturday, we saw Starsky and Hutch. Oh! What a delight­ful cin­e­matic romp. I have to say that if I were to make the inevitable com­par­i­son to Zoolander, I thought that Zoolander had more moments that were insanely hilar­i­ously awe­some beyond belief, but Starsky and Hutch was the more con­sis­tently enjoy­able cin­ema expe­ri­ence. I skip through big chunks of Zoolander a lot. I mean a LOT. Starsky and Hutch clearly suc­ceeds because when you include more scenes that involve Owen Wilson, or when the scenes that don’t involve Owen Wilson usu­ally have some­thing to do with char­ac­ters think­ing about Owen Wilson, you will be well taken care of. And then there’s also Snoop and Juliette Lewis, who them­selves should make movies together. I also acknowl­edge that it was a great sac­ri­fice for Christopher to go with me as he has some­thing of an anti-​Stiller gene. But he seemed to like it, or at least like that I liked it so much. And hon­estly, isn’t that what’s impor­tant? He still refuses to watch Zoolander, though.
Sunday was WRESTLEMANIA XX WHERE IT ALL BEGINSAGAIN. This was a good time although I drank too many of my dou­ble dirrty mar­ti­nis and pro­ceeded to pass out dur­ing the main event. I caught it on the encore but oops, I kind of missed out on expe­ri­enc­ing the magic with the rest of the world. But I was tired and the booze was so so good, so I feel I made the right choice. Then I sobered up enough to win an auc­tion for a copy of Pamela Moore’s Chocolates for Breakfast for the open­ing bid of a sin­gle soli­tary pound (plus £2.49 ship­ping). I’m so excited for it, I can’t even explain.
Monday, some­thing prob­a­bly hap­pened that I can’t remem­ber. I put some more stuff on the iPod, most notably my Steely Dan, Bobby Darin and Velvet Underground box sets. We’re tak­ing a trip later this week that will involve some dri­ving so I’ll be play­ing mix­mas­ter. Also every­one is up Franz Ferdinand’s butt now, when did that hap­pen? Oh! And I took a Design Within Reach sur­vey and they sent me a $25 dis­count pro­mo­tional code, which is hot! Although I can’t exactly afford to buy any­thing from there.
Tonight was “American Idol” and I am at a loss for much to say about it. My girl is going to get CANNED on her ASS. Which is fine because now I am cer­tain that it’s not that she’s inter­est­ingly weird and fas­ci­nat­ing, she’s just plain hor­ri­ble. I know you knew that all along, but I thought I saw some­thing there for a sec. Everyone was so bor­ing. Boring bor­ing bor­ing. And like they’re singing at a pep rally or some crap. I don’t share these kids’ school spirit. I thought George was OK though, like watch­able and enjoy­able or what­ever and much bet­ter with­out the mous­tache. I can’t muster up any­thing to say about any­one else. Boring.
What else is bor­ing, and yet … not bor­ing? Zero 7. I am now firmly into the Zero 7. It’s enjoy­able face­less chill­out music that is easy on the ears of old ladies such as myself. They do Air bet­ter than Air have been doing them­selves. Who told them it was a good idea to sing all their own songs? I mean really.
iTunes has Bob’s Bootleg Series Vol. 6 avail­able two weeks early, but I can’t jus­tify get­ting it if it’s not actual phys­i­cal mer­chan­dise. Plus he’s going to look so cute in that book­let, you know it.

1 comment to It’s writ­ten in the moon­light and painted on the stars