Random Thoughts
from way in the back of my amazing brain |
I don’t even remember how to play it, it just suddenly occurred to me that I played it once when I was like eleven.
I think it was fun.
Plus, any game with two, that’s two U’s with those dots over them can’t be bad.
Don’t.
In fact, just try and avoid sweaters altogether, to be on the safe side. You’ll probably end up thanking me for it. Any episode of The Cosby Show makes a good cautionary tale about sweaters. Do you ever want to look like a guy named Elvin?
But if you must wear a sweater—-and I can’t think of any situation that would compel you to wear a sweater—-and if you can think of one, maybe you should take a good hard look at your life—-don’t geek it up even more with a tie underneath the sweater.
If you like spy or detective movies or books, and you must if you hang around at chris86.com for any length of time—-at least I can’t conceive of any alternate explanation—-then may I recommend Raymond Chandler’s books. They’re pulp-fictiony detective stories which were written in the 40s and are about the now-stereotypical tough-guy streetwise detective type, complete with Stetson and trenchcoat.
I read lots of mystery-type books, but generally they’re nothing special. Basically they’re all the same book. There’s some murder, someone investigates, it gets solved, the murderer turns out to be someone unlikely. Or something close to that. After each book is done, I immediately forget it. The writing usually wasn’t good or bad, it was just there. It was the incidental jumble of words needed to form a story in a book.
There! There’s your freaking rain. Can I take a shower now?
First rain in sixteen years, and I’m already sick of it.
So over the Christmas break, Sherrill, who beyond all reason really likes kids, invited my brother’s kids over and kept them for the day. What a fun surprise for me. I get home and oh look. Two kids.
So I’m making the best of this intolerable situation, you know, not slapping Maryssa and Mellany (that’s their names–Maryssa and Mellany. Perhaps that was evident) around or anything, just tolerating them and playing along with their ridiculous little ideas like “play the piano Uncle Chris and we’ll dance” or whatever. Yeah, kid. I don’t really do “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, that’s not really my style. And it’s not much of a dance song if you ask me.
This movie was pretty funny. All through it there’re like jokes and stuff. And funny things. It’s a comedy.
But then there’s this one part. Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters are walking down the beach on a date, and Steve Martin is playing a ukulele, and they singing this really cute, sweet, sentimental beautiful song called Tonight You Belong to Me to each other. After the movie, Sherrill and I had to go back to this part to hear it again. And then again. And then again. And then again. And then I figured out how to make the DVD player play just this song over and over automatically, and that saved me some time. So then again like 84 times. (Between you and me, I think by replay #57 Sherrill was losing interest a bit.)