Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Who Knew the Futon Wasn't Rated For Wide Loads? I had a delicious night last night sleeping on the futon, which is not nearly as pliant as my saggy mattress. I awoke with only the slightest of twinges, and went about my day in happiness. So of course, the minute I get home and seat myself on the futon, it cracks under me and is rendered useless for the time being. Bemo is planning to attack it with clamps and wood glue tomorrow, so we'll see if it's repairable. First the car wigs out on us, and now the futon. Grrrrr. You know that concept of the slippery slope, or alternately, the gateway drug? Well, my friends, American Idol has apparently been that for me. It's led down the path to Joe Millionare, and tonight, with much shame, I admit that I am at least going to turn on the television when that thing on ABC, "Am I Hot?" (or whatever the fuck it's called) will commence broadcasting. Whether or not I actually pay any attention to it remains to be seen, but I still feel soiled. I really want to go see Daredevil this Friday. Will see if I can swing it. It's payday, so at least I'll have a little cash flow. 6:25 p.m. - 2003-02-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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