12 March 1999
4:07 PM: Today, I looked right at a bear claw and said, "Give me that almond croissant thing." Talk about a betrayal of my heritage. How embarrassing. On the other hand, Snack! today is - Slim Jims! Snack Lady understands my needs, it's true it's true.
7:34: Oh No! Now they have revealed the reason for such a special Snack!: the Snack Lady is leaving! Well, just to a different job here, so she's not gone gone, but but but. Some untried callow yoot will now be choosing snacks for us. Who knows what we'll be subjected to? Triscuits? Unshelled walnuts? Fresh fruit? Wait, we already get fruit. But that's food, it's not a snack. What a world, what a world.
More really terrible dreams last night. Everyone at work was going on a holiday to Scotland. They tried to sneak away without even letting me know they were going. Then I found out, and I got to go along with them, only to find out that my trip stopped at the airport! Sorry, dude. Slam. And on and on like that - the scenarios changed, but it was just rejection after rejection. Well deserved, too; either I was acting badly or else there was one of those dream-senses that I was nothing but a weasel. By the time I more or less regained consciousness this morning I wanted nothing so much as to hide in a dark corner somewhere. It was neat. Wish I knew what was going on behind all of this noise.
The Corruptor opens today and looks excellent, thank god. I had a good feeling about it just from the preview. Chow does this warning gesture, holding up his index finger as his arm sweeps out an arc in front of him, and it had that classic Chow Yun Fat quality to it. It's not cockiness - well, maybe a little - but more controlled madness. Don't dare this guy to do something. All of that, the humor and the danger, was exactly what was missing in The Replacement Killers. I don't know any other work of the director, James Foley, but at least he knew enough to let the real thing happen.
Ah! That was weird. My editor is eating itself. Better go see what it wants.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff.
The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.