anything

there is a lady where i work that only works 2 days a week. twelve hour days. she says she really doesn't get much done during her days because when six hours rolls around, she realizes she's only halfway through her day and things just slow down.

i feel like i just hit the one-hour-left mark. it's that second wind that hits you because you know you are finally nearing the end of a long, arduous journey. i'm not naive enough to think it will be over entirely, but it will at least be out of my direct vicinity.

then carefree days of summer are here again, laughing as i hang from a treebranch by one arm, communicating with the monkeys.

mister horrible says "i don't mind. the thing that bothers me is someone keeps moving my chair."

on a lighter but much more serious note, there are people that no matter what are sure to put out a quality piece of work. tarantino is one of those. it's not as if he spent his hibernating years cultivating the greatest epic of all time, but he is sure to influence movies for years to come with this one. and when you influence people just by showing your influences, that says something about your panache.

alright, this rambling incoherent mess is brought to you by red bull. red bull gives you wings so that you can fly too close to the sun and have them explode in a fiery burst of flame, hold up a wooden sign that says "oops!", then plummet toward the vast comfy expanses of your bed.