I’m the only person I know who’d wear a full-length mink and Doc Martens at the same time - to work, no less. I’m just sayin’.

First of all, I was SO excited Saturday; I got a package from Kristy which contained my prize from her photo-caption contest. It was THIS t-shirt, which I wanted quite badly. As I held the shirt up to myself, Alan started laughing, “Oh my god...that’s BEAUTIFUL. It’s just so, so YOU!” Thanks so much, Kristy!!!

We headed out to run some errands, mainly birthday-present shopping for my mom, and while at Doc Chey’s for lunch, we saw the greatest vanity plate EVER: a gold Ford Explorer XLT (the exact SUV Cheryl drives, but this wasn’t hers) with Dekalb County plates reading “OMGSTFU”. Alan has photographic proof on his camera phone. I couldn’t believe they got it past DMV either, but isn’t it hilarious?

Movies: Saturday afternoon I was finishing a Joe Lansdale novel, Alan was in the study, hooking up new goodies like the G-router thingy I bought him for his birthday and I wanted the television on for background noise. DirecTV was still on the SciFi channel from the previous evening and I was captivated immediately: WTF is on SciFi? It appeared to be a soft-core porn period piece involving the Dread Pirate Westley and Flashdance Chick. What Buttercup will have to say when she finds out, I don’t like to think. But wait it gets worse! Westley was interrupted mid-seduction when the door bursts open and in stalks STING. Yeah, Sting. But wait there’s more! The scene cuts to a circus with a scarred-up guy driving tent pegs and somehow there is a midget involved. Movies are always better with a midge or two, if you ask me. Anyway, turns out it was a remake of Bride of Frankenstein! I’m sure you guessed that from the scenes I’ve described. And as bad as this movie was, it was still exponentially better than Sting’s post-Police music career. (Ouch! But hey, if you’re gonna be a pretentious git who vomits pre-programmed horrific pop-crud pseudojazz using trite lyrics stolen from bad bumper stickers, you’ve gotta be prepared to suffer the blogsequences.)

Last evening we watched Spiderman 2. I enjoyed this movie and found it a pleasant way to spend an evening. However, I don’t see what was so absolutely overwhemingly wonderful thrilling insert-superlative-of-choice about it that has so many of my friends utterly salivating. Yeah, it has serious special-effects/CG, but IMO pretty typical of today’s industry standard. Meh. What I really want to know is, who cleans his mess up? Spidey is all the time swinging about the city, either on a crime-solving mission, a pizza delivery, working off some steam or one of those night-swings to clear his head, and it’s huge long webstrand after huge long webstrand as he goes from building to building. Who cleans all that web gunge offa NYC, that’s what I want to know. Webs be hanging everywhere, cluttering up the place. If it’s not bad enough, big-ass spider rope hanging off Columbia University and all up in Queens, but you know how sticky arachnid emissions are. It’s not gonna be long before there’s napkins, hot dog wrappers, sticks from Good Humor bars and half-eaten bagels stuck ALL UP IN THERE, and that’s gonna attract rodents and it will be a big huge mess. No wonder J. Jonah Jameson had issues. Damn litterbug, that Spidey.

One more thing, because my mom wanted to know. “Montoya delenda est” in Portuguese is “Montoya deve ser destruído!”

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!