Why don't you tell everyone I said to go fuck themselves for making my teen years a living hell?

First of all, I'm a moron. You know what a spa is? It's a MAJOR APPLIANCE. You know what major appliances are? Covered under the damn warranty!! Thanks go out to my magical mother for pointing that out to me, the clueless daughter. And another million thanks to Sam Moreno, of Century 21, for taking care of the whole damn thing. The check is in the mail. Even after my dumb ass went about fixing the spa in the most back-assward way possible. But I didn't want the pipes to freeze! Oh well, it all worked out because luckily, everyone else knows what they're doing.

My job is merely to consume alcohol and watch the new Bond. Soon. Hours away. I plan on also eating either fried pickles or cheese. Might need cheese for Bond.

And I keep forgetting to mention that I finally saw 2001: A Space Odyssey. Obviously, I liked it. I won't pretend that I got it, but it's a start. I have only a vague idea of what I think was meant, and I'm probably wrong. It will need another viewing. Not necessarily anytime soon, I wasn't crazy about it. But I certainly enjoyed and appreciated it. Anything that kinda leaves me behind a little is usually worth another look. Except Jesus Christ Vampire Killer. That left me behind, but in a whole other way. And it was the Kubrick marathon over on Cinemaslave that finally made me feel embarrassed enough that I had to watch it. And I was just thinking that there aren't any films left on the Shame List Not Viewed. But honestly, I don't think I've seen Spinal Tap all the way through and I know I haven't seen most of Blazing Saddles. As far as the classics go. So I'll work on it.

In the meantime, there's season 6 of CSI: Vegas just out and I gotta catch up on my West Wing. So there. Priorities for you. Luckily I'm off this weekend. I'll try to watch an actual movie and maybe, like, review it.