Oh, booger.

[slipjig3]

This was one of those days when I could draw a line exactly where the day changed from decent to pig doots: 6:35 pm. I arrive home, greet my family, check the mail pile, and see the words "JURY SUMMONS." Fuck. (Pardon mon Franglais.)

On the plus side, I picked up the portraits of the yard apes from Sears today, and I freely admit that they were worth every last bit of core hair that I ripped from my own scalp that day. They'd better thank me for this when they're 25.

Oh, and I finally watched Amelie last night, which made me fall totally in love with the whole wide world, at least up until this jury duty thing. As it stands, all I want to do right now is learn enough French to write Audrey Tautou and ask her to come live with us.

Speaking of movies, on TCM tonight: Touch of Evil (the restored version), The Stranger, Citizen Kane, The Magnificent Ambersons, and The Trial, back to expletive-deleted back. I think it's an unwritten rule that you don't actually need sleep, as long as you have more Orson Welles than you can shake a visual metaphor at.

Comments

[catamorphism.livejournal.com]

Well, all's the better. After all, if you crossdress fashionably, they might not even notice that you're crossdressing, and then you'd have to walk around in heels all day for nothing.