In Albury, on business. Dining alone. Trying not to look too pathetic. The candle-light isn’t helping things. Nor is the sobbing.
I’m no expert on career satisfaction: when you wake up quietly hopeful that you’ve been retrenched, might it be time to move on?
What me? Y’know, just hanging out with my peeps.
So, @weselec began following me today (very gracious, thanks Shane) though it’s somewhat disconcerting to now see my avatar alongside internet royalty (@hotdogsladies, @adamisacson, @fireland et al) on his “Following” list.
Disappointment is all but inevitable. “I’ll get me coat“…
(this post was reblogged from yourmonkeycalled)
Greg’s caught smoking, Jan sneaks out to buy a wig, now Peter’s trying to avoid Lucy Winter’s party. This Brady marathon is off the hook.
Just back from Transformers 2: Revenge of Something or Somesuch:
Duration: Interminable.
Plot: Incomprehensible.
Dialogue: Indecipherable.
Character arc: Imperceptible.
Lame one-liners: Indefensible.
Capacity audience: Inexplicable.
Director’s posturing: Unforgivable.
Heroine’s breasts: Unrestrainable.
Verdict: Unremarkable. **.
I’m not a snob about this, really, and I love a big, dumb film sometimes. Just not this one, as exceedingly big and exceedingly dumb as it is.
There are much smarter people out there saying much cleverer things about this movie than I can: Roger Ebert and MaryAnn Johanson are perhaps the best.
Pro tip: try to avoid donating 1000 hrs of your time + $3000 of your money + the end product and all your I.P. to a massive corporation.
Again neglecting my beautiful wife and amazing kids to work unpaid overtime for the entire weekend. Let’s just skip Father’s Day this year.
1000 FPS video. This is insane.
Just realised I worked 107 hrs last week, 67 of them unpaid. Oh, so *that* explains all those looks from my apparent “wife” and “family”.
