Thursday, March 09, 2006
Tear Gas
My house is a little more full of kids than I'm used to. Somehow my sister snuck a couple of hers in here when I was out trying to score five tons of pot, so between them being here and the armed stand-off/hostage situation with the DEA, I'm sort of too busy to put together anything worth reading.

How does that make today different from any other day, you ask? Well, it doesn't so long as we're talking about bastard reader/commenter sarcasm.

Anyway, just a couple of things to point out before I have to check the front-door barricades:

1) Remember yesterday when I talked about the cake-walk phoney-baloney World Baseball Classic? Yeah, a couple things: a) my disdain for something doesn't preclude me watching EVERY SINGLE SECOND of it (see also: the last two seasons of Six Feet Under) and b) after yesterday, the USA team is one Mexico win from elimination after only two games played. See, we've gone from arrogant steamroller to scrappy underdogs of the world in the course of one poor result. It's all the same people playing for the same reasons, but suddenly it's a team I can get behind. Am I a hypocrite? Maybe. But I prefer "moral-ideologically flexible."

2) At a press conference to discuss her new movie Basic Instinct 2, Sharon Stone comes right out and kills all the suspense by announcing that, yes, she will appear naked in that film. I wasn't surprised. Why not, you ask? Is it because Sharon Stone is a fading attention-whore desperate to manufacture relevance evidenced by her agreeing to make a Basic Instinct 2 in the first place? Well, yes. But then there's also the fact that I've seen the initial trailer for the film and it is the single filthiest non-porn piece of video I've ever seen (do I have to say NOT SAFE FOR WORK? I guess I just did). And if any of you know me by now, that's saying something.

3) Headline: Rice, Rumsfeld Discount Iraqi Civil War. Phew. What relief. I am comforted.

And now I must go. I've agreed to let one of my hostages go as a "show of good faith" and I have to decide if it's going to be the Asian woman, the black guy, the crusty old security guard, the bank manager or the diabetic. I'm not even sure how they all got in my house, but such is my burden. I'll let you all know how it turns out.

This post on the Narcissus Scale: 5.5



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