January 2004 Dribblings

Category: dribblings

1.29.03
this week has been exhausting.
the people we’re working for this week keep adding rooms. every day they’ve added a new room. it’s craZy. i want to scream, “hey! we’re on a schedule y’know! we can’t just paint your bedroom ‘cos all of a sudden you feel like your bedroom needs painting! we came here to paint a kitchen and dining room! you’ve already added a hall and livingroom and now, now, NOW you want a bedroom? what? what was that? AND TWO BATHROOMS?!”
sweet jesus.
we thought we’d be at that house for three days. now it’s turning into a week and three days. i’m not complaining about the work mind you. oh heaven’s no. i need all the sweet, sweet money i can get. it’s the part about how we have other things scheduled because we thought we were gonna be at that place for three days ‘cos it was a kitchen and a dining room that’s driving me mad.
people.

went to a funeral visitation this evening. that guy must’ve known every person in the county! so many people! so many old people. the oxygen:estée lauder ratio was maxored out.

Dear Old Ladies,

Look. Let’s face it, you’re old. i can appreciate that. i think it’s fabulous that you keep on living. i mean, i hope that i have such a tenacious grip on life as you when i’m old. You are beautiful women. You should be cherished by your families and friends. You make delicious pies. You are women! Hear you roar!

So why, why my old sistas, are you still wearing estée lauder? don’t you know that that stuff is like, the closest thing to legalized chemical warfare? Don’t you know that when you press the atomizer you’re releasing a toxic cloud of rank into the necessary oxygen i breathe? Listen ladies, it sticks to the air. The scent actually stings the eyes. This can’t be good for your old, old lungs. Come on, at least sarin gas is odorless.

i’d also like to point out that it’s only called Youth-Dew. It doesn’t actually make you younger. And Beautiful? You’re already beautiful, you don’t have to stank your beautiful selves up with that reek-in-a-bottle. Look, it’s a proven fact that only my aunt lou could ever get away with wearing Beautiful. Are you Mary Lou? no? Then stop wearing it. And by the way, $42.50 for a 1 ounce bottle? i swear to god, you ladies scrimp and save every fucking penny you have, you clip coupons and use them, you only buy bananas if they’re on sale, you survived The War…you know what a dollar is worth! you don’t trust banks, you’ve put kids through college with money that you buried under the house, and you mean to tell me that you daren’t bat an eye for a $40 itsy bottle of sour flower stank?!

For shame grannies, for shame. i’m not saying you should not splurge on yourselves. by all means, go and buy some more of those sheer blouses (with the gold buttons and shoulder pads) you’re all so fond of, or some giant panties, or those pink and green sweatsuits (with the applique’ teddy bears on it? you know the ones) or even some peanut brittle. i don’t care what you buy with your thousands of dollars that you have hidden in your mattresses, but please, for the love, stop buying estée lauder perfume. If not for your eyes and lungs…do it for your grandchildren’s eyes and lungs. You think they want to hug you when you have that blech pulsating from your neck? Do you?!

And with all the money you’ll be saving you can make more pies!
i love you old ladies. i really do. And that’s why i’m telling you to please, please stop trying to smell like a french whore.

Your Pal,
Jaimie Pickle

1.28.04
finally! a new weekly!

also, the faux painting went pretty good. it started out very bad and tragic, but it was not our fault. anyway, i saved the day (using my mad art skillz) and dad keeps calling me his hero.
“wow, hero huh? what kind of benefits does that get?”
“it means you get to be the boss tomorrow.”
“what? does that mean you’re usually the boss? i didn’t know that.”
“yeah, but tomorrow…you boss.”
“i’m not sure i want to be boss.”
“you’re boss tomorrow. also, you buy lunch.”
“damn.”

1.27.03
wow. so the preceeding entry was a little embarrassing, wasn’t it? huh.

whenever something cool happens for my dad and i for Dreamplex 1.0, i feel the need to immediately call laura to let her know. usually i have no access to a phone and so i have to wait til i get home. and usually by the time i get home i start drinking and take a shower and then all is forgotten until the next day. so by the time i get to talk to laura there are two or three cool Dreamplex 1.0 things to tell her. and then by that time she has a couple of things about Dreamplex 2.0 to tell me. and i notice that when we do get to talk about the Dreamplexes we tend to talk really fast. it’s like if i don’t get it out fast enough some kind of creature is gonna come in and take my voice box away and then there’s laura on the other line saying, “jaimie? you there? hello? jaimie?” *click*

and there i am…gesturing wildly to the phone and thinking, “what’s the universal sign for those pre-tacked carpet strips?!”

tomorrow dad and i are painting a kitchen and dining room and hall for these nice people. the kitchen gets some kind of “faux pas -ting” neither one of us has ever done it before. some kind of a sponge thing. i figure if all those goofballs on the discovery channel can do it then it’s gotta be easier than pie and cake together. dad is making me do it since as he says, “you’re the artist.” my response was, “what?! yeah right like i’m some kind of…oh. right. hm. i can’t get out of this can i?”

check it out! tomorrow = new skill! next thing you know i’ll be making walls look like they’re made of leather or rock or bread or something.

i hope it totally kicks. ‘cos then i’ll be the coolest kid on the block.

date?

soorry. i darnk many beers.

i hada thoughttoday andi toght, “oh hell! i’mthe worst rienfd ever! ‘cos ithingi tiotally missed an specila ARt OPeinsing of lauras and i’mthe worset friensd EVER!” but ti turns out that i’m, no t so bad ‘cos.its’ liek ittotlaally didn;pt miis laur’as arT openindi,g.!! yay!!

soor about misopellees words! i had 96 neers and vodak! vdoka! haa!

1.22.03
i’ve been too busy to even breathe for the last two days.
right now i’m working on three (3) paintings simultaneously. jealous?
well don’t be. only one is turning out cool. one is mediocre and the other one is horrible (it looks like a circus threw up on the canvas). i’ll pro’ly paint over that last one.

meanwhile:
i’ve lost my cell phone again. i know it’s around here somewhere.
anyway, if you need to get in touch with me don’t call the cell. send a carrier pigeon or try the bat signal or something.

also:
tami sparks has a b’day coming up. so don’t let me forget, ok? ‘cos last year i forgot.

1.20.03
ugh. we got a late start today because the stoopid paint store ran out of paint.
yeah, i didn’t get it either. but i didn’t freak out about it ‘cos i know that stupid things like that happen all the time. however, i guess my dad forgets that stupid things happen all the time and he was pissed and freaked out about it.
“how can a paint store not have paint?!”
“i dunno, dad. these things happen. and yes, it is stupid.”
“this is the second time they’ve not had paint. paint! a paint store!”
“well, it might not be the paint store’s fault. we had problems like this at the sign shop sometimes. like our supplier would be out of black vinyl or something. so they would have to have the factory drop ship a roll to us and that might take an extra day or two. or maybe even the shipping truck would be coming from up north and would get caught in snowy weather and it would take an extra day to get there. stupid things happen all the time.”
“yeah but this just screws the whole day up!”
“i know. you want a bagel with cream cheese?”
“sure.”
“cool.”
“and then i’m going back to bed.”
“sounds good. what were we thinking anyway? ‘hey let’s get up early so we can get started faster since we have to drive to the next county for this new job. yep. we’re gonna get an early start ‘cos we’re smart like that.’ yeah like that was ever gonna happen.”
“we tried though didn’t we?”
“we sure did. we get points for that.”
“points?”
“you know, Adult Points. for being logical and responsible?”
“oh. um jaimie, i’m sure that as adults we don’t actually need points.”
“fine.”
“…”
“can i have your points then?”

1.19.03
here’s something i’ve thought about recently.
it’s obvious that Scabies was really malnourished as a pup. and because of that i don’t think she’s gonna grow much bigger than she is. and it’s funny, because Blue Dog, who was obviuosly healthy as a pup, is huge compared to little ScabieLyn. (Blue and Scabies are both female border collies)

and i’ve noticed that Scabies is kinda slow in her learning skills. in fact, i think she’s retarded. but that’s fine ‘cos she’s the sweetest thing in the world. all she knows is love. but the fact remains, she’s retarded. now really, i hate to sound insensitive at all when i use the term retarded, retard, or fucking retard, but there you go. it’s just going to have to sound insensitve.

anyway, what i was wondering is what do you suppose Blue Dog thinks of all this?
“um, thanks guys, i know you thought i was lonely since jake died and all, but um really, what the fuck were you thinking? i mean, i had my own dog house and my own food after jake died. sure i miss the bastard but c’mon, that dog was old and incontinent too. i mean that guy shat on the deck and sidewalk for crying out loud. so what do you do? you get me a “friend”. thanks. thanks a lot.”

but Blue she’s so cute and loveable.

“yeah. and know what else? she’s retarded. i’m stuck in this fence 24/7 with a fucking retard. plus she had scabies! i mean, thanks chief! she’s got the skin condition, and i have to suffer through 4 weeks of skankass flea dips?! thanks guys. you suck.”

oh c’mon Blue. Scabies is so nice and sweet.

“yeah! remember how nice and sweet the retarded kid in elementary school was? she was all smiles, huh? and remember how you hated to play with her because she didn’t make any sense at the time? hmm? remember? yeah, that’s what you’ve stuck me with. pat, laura, the bitch can’t even eat right and her tongue drags the ground. you two are brilliant.”

Blue! that’s a horrible thing to say! besides i heard that Libby the Retard went on to have a pretty full life. well, as full of a life as she could. i guess. you’re a bad dog, Blue!

“well, all i can tell ya is the bitch eats rocks and acorns all day long. so anyway, thanks for the retard.”

i’m…i’m going to hell aren’t i?

1.18.03
sometimes i forget just how kickasscool god is. i would totally love to tell you guys all about The Great Lutheran Adventure but it would take forever and i don’t feel like typing it all out. just know that god was all over it. and that our new pastor will be here march 1.
(eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!)

no more EP!
word!

i have been so excited today that poor jimmy has had to listen to me giddily tell him everything that happened at the meeting and interview and bladdy bladdy bladdy. it’s like a huge gigrando weight has been lifted.

in other news:
happy mlk day!

1.16.03
today was absolutely busy.
dad and i worked at the fire station for a couple of hours. we must’ve painted 900 yards of crown moulding. and i’m talking 6″ moulding. crazy. craZy.
then we went and visited two of our friends in the hospital. it’s very sad. one of them isn’t doing well at all.
then we went and got my jeep out of hock. it’s great to have wheels again. my wheels.

and now i’m off to go play cards with my fleegan and his family. it’s going to be strange. they don’t smoke, drink or swear. what kind of people are these?! i just hope i don’t bust out with tourette’s over there. i do seem to have quite the potty mouth.

1.15.03
today is the last day that dad and i are working on the Dreamplex for a while. we have a couple of paying gigs that we need to get out of the way. also i need money.

we all need money, jaimie.

yes i know. but i also need my jeep. and the mechanic needs $300.44, so there you go.
doesn’t the 44 cents just kill you? because it kills me.

in other news:
dole™ orange pineapple banna juice (laura, it’s at food world in the orange juice section) mixed with absolut™ citron has been rocking my world (and the world of my whooping cough) all week.

and do yourself a favor and go and buy that Interpol CD.
do you love Radiohead? do you love REM? then why wouldn’t you love their bastard child?
no excuses. buy it. now.
go!

1.14.04
when i got to Dreamplex 1.0 today i noticed that one of the “doors” to under the house was open. my first thought was “oh shit. i just killed laura’s cat.” ‘cos that’s where i dumped some rat poison. i guess the door was opened ‘cos someone was trying to read the gas meter. boy was i relieved to read that kitty was in a cat fight and didn’t in fact eat my rat poison.

we’re now painting trim and cabinets which means we’ve busted out the oil based paint. and now we all have Paint Head in the afternoons and everything is stupid gigglie. the kitchen is looking so good. kris did a fab job on the countertop. and if all goes well tomorrow we should start putting flooring in there. it’s finally starting to look like a house and not like a Shithole anymore. aw, i’m gonna miss that moniker.

i’m wondering how long i can go without a stove and fridge. how long can a human live on coffee and peanut butter?
probably longer than i care to admit.

ps: if you’re hungry or thirsty don’t come over to my side of the Dreamplex.

6 months from now:
“jaimie, you still don’t have a fridge? hell, you don’t even have a microwave! are you still just eating PBJ sandwiches?”
“hmm? oh. yeah. want one?”
“jesus what’s the matter with you? you have money. get some appliances!”
“oh. well, i never think about really.”
“your laziness is amazing.”
“yeah. i’m kind of proud really.”
“yeah but how do you explain this to other people?”
“what do you mean?”
“what if someone comes over and wants a snack or something to drink?”
“what am i a goddam seveneleven?”
“you know what i mean.”
“i dunno, i’ll tell them i’m on that atkin’s thingie.”

1.13.04
hi. i’m “sorry” that i haven’t updated in a week and that there’s no weekly. i am sad that there is no weekly as Scottie of the Cube even e-mailed me a cartoon idea for my Fleegan TV Channel, Rabid Squirrel Circus. i think that’s cartoon that i would want to watch.

everything is busy!
Shithole 805-A is busy!
church is busy!
my lungs are on fire!
i have The Eternal Cough of Woe! and sadly, NyQuil is losing it’s strength. please, NyQuil, pleeeese hold out a little longer!

Dear Bottle of Nyquil on my Dresser,

Hello friend! We sure have had some great times this week haven’t we? Remember when i coughed all Sunday night/Monday morning? And remember when at 4AM i swallowed half of your contents and sweared a lot? and remember how later that morning dad thought i was in a coma, and my tongue was dried out ‘cos i slept with my mouth open, and my pillow was all wet? Gosh, we make a great team!

So anyway, my Cherry Friend, i’ll just get to the point. i was going to go to the doctor one day this week to get a shot in my fanny so’s that this whooping cough would go away and i could go back to sleeping “normally”. But you know how “plans” are, right? Yeah, well i can’t go to the doctor this week ‘cos i paid some bills and bought some tile for the floors at Shithole 805-A (how cool is that?) and then there’s this business of my jeep being broken, and i guess what i’m trying to say is could you maybe, try a little harder?

i mean, it’s not like i’m asking you to do anything that i’m not willing to do or am in fact doing right now. i mean, i get up and go to work day after treacherous day. And i work a tough, physical job here. And the thing is, i woke up this morning feeling like someone had come in my room last night and beat the shit out of me with a rubber hose. My ribs are killing me and my right shoulder is screeching in pain. How did that happen? Now, i really don’t want to point any fingers here but c’mon, you and i were the only ones in the room last night, and i’m getting the feeling that you let me cough all night long. And what is with these dreams? Look, if i have another dream where i’m a superhero who gives blow jobs to all the guys i ever knew in high school, then our working relationship is over.
Oh and PS: what was with those giant, clear, silicone penises, anyway?

So c’mon NyQuil, i need you to quit slackassing and get to work on my cough. And no more penis dreams either. pervert.

Your Pal,
Jaimie Pickle

1.07.04
today was a Piddle Day. dad and i spent the WHOLE day running errands. that always annoys us because
A. it seems like we wasted a day and
B. you know it’s going to involve spending money.

what we can’t figure out is how we got anything done before
A. dad retired and
B. i quit the sign shop.

which brings us to paragraph three.
tomorrow i work at the sign shop ‘cos kelly is having surgery and needs someone to “babysit” the phone basically. it should be fun. the only problem is this head cold that i seem to be developing. i’ve had a sore throat for days and now it’s gotten into my lungs. everytime i inhale it feels like my lungs are on fire. it’s weird. and hurting. and my nostrils are leaking (and as long as i don’t develop whooping cough i’ll consider myself lucky) but i bought some generic DayQuil™ (buy one get one free, of all things) and so i’ve been kind of zombie-ish. and i’m blaming all of this on the lack of weekly. i have an idea for a weekly i just can’t come up with enough funny things for it.
here, maybe you can help.

i was going to do a weekly about Jaimie TV. like i have my own TV channel. i dunno, maybe it should be Fleegan TV. anyway. i would have a list of some of the programs like, This Old Shithole and possibly a show like Library Hour or maybe call it Jaimie’s Library Adventures. and of course there would have to be a show where the fleegan and i are detectives like mulder and scully and we use flashlights a lot ‘cos it’s always dark…in our office. Fleegan Files or Fleegans of Justice or maybe J&J Detectives. i wanted to have a cartoon on my channel too, but i can’t think of anything. like i said, i’m blaming my lack of creativity on the cold medicine.

so tonight i plan on vegging out with my fleegan and the telly. we’re going to rent Jeepers Creepers 2. i can only imagine what my dreams will be like after watching that tripe and guzzling down my green ‘Quil.

1.06.04
i was the Caulk Queen today. it’s funny ‘cos dad and i pronounce it with a yankee accent so we’re calling it cack, so i was the Cack Queen. dad went to the hardware store the other day and asked the lady where the cack was (this is alabama, mind you). she nervously said, “cock? or cawlk?”
so now we pronounce it right when we’re at the hardware store.

there’s this old man we do some work for and he calls it cork or corking, as in, “ya gotta put some half inch corking in the corner.” the half inch part is because the old man is blind and doesn’t measure things very well. so we have caulk, cack, cock, cawlk, and cork at our disposal.

another fun thing we say is, “that hurted my anus.” an example of how that is used would be, “i just spent $130 on plumbing and wood that will never be seen. that hurted my anus.” another example was when i saw the sheet of paneling we bought swept off the top of the truck by a gust of wind, caught air and flopped to the ground. the .6 seconds it was in the air i pictured the thing hitting the ground and splintering in half and then my dad coming out and beating me with the biggest piece and i said, “oh god, this is going to hurt my anus.” when the paneling flopped to the ground in one piece i said, “hey dad! i think we need to get the paneling.” and he said, “what was that horrible banging sound?” and i said, “it was either the paneling hitting the ground or my anus.”
“oh.”

another fun thing that we do is sing oldies/motown songs with made up lyircs. they usually end up being either three songs put together or something about someone shooting their face off or getting a foot up their ass. it’s funnier at the time. also, we sing them in our We Like Tha Moon voices.

also, dad has combined gollum with paul sr. and now yells and swears but adds, “stupid hobbitses” or “precious” at the end. he’s a genius.

1.05.04
ok. Shithole 805-A is officially demon possessed. which,
A. of course it is and
B. we knew it would be and
C. it wasn’t too big of a deal until today.

the past week that my dad and i have worked there we’ve been confused and restless the whole time. it was quite common for me to look up from my scraping or cleaning and see dad walk through the whole place three times just kind of…meandering. “dad. what are you doing?”
“shh. don’t talk right now. i’m trying to think of what i’m trying to do but i can’t get my think- look, just, don’t talk right now.” so a general concensus of the whole Dreamplex 1.0 and 2.0 was that yes, there is something not quite right spiritually with the place(s).

sure it was annoying and kind of odd. but it sisn’t seem like such a huge deal because at least we weren’t having evil visions or hearing voices. ‘cos really, to me, hearing voices would be a huge deal. the confusion stuff i figured would go away the more work we would get done. and so far, that has been true.

but today was different. because today we started out wanting to kill each other. i would blame the Wagner Paint Stick™ because that’s what started the arguement, but really i can’t blame that piece of shit ‘cos we both knew it would be a piece of shit that we would use once and throw away. so i gave up on the piece of shit because it wasn’t covering my ceiling and plus it weighs fucking 20 pounds and it pissed me off so i picked up a paintbrush and started painting the edge of the ceiling so that after i settled down i could use a normal 8oz roller to roll the ceiling. but dad comes in after my tantrum with the Wagner Piece of Shit™ and he’s really pissed ‘cos he just went 3 rounds with the Hot Water Heater of Mordor, and lost. so he’s all, “you aren’t gonna paint the whole ceiling with a 2 inch brush are you?!”

well, no. of course not. but by god if i WANT TO PAINT THE GODDAM CEILING WITH A 2 INCH FUCKING BRUSH THEN DAMMIT THAT’S WHAT I’LL DO YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH. which is what i said in my head. what i said aloud was, “well what SHOULD i use?!”

“USE A HANDROLLER!”
“FINE!”
“HERE! USE THIS ONE!”
“WELL I HOPE YOU CHOKE OLD MAN!” which is what i said in my head.

the whole day was tense like that. so much so that we didn’t even stop for lunch. we just worked straight through.
“you want anything for lunch?”
“nah, i have a sore throat and my stomach hurts.”
“ok.”
“why what time is it? are you hungry, dad?”
“i’m not hungry. what’s wrong with your stomach?!”
“i’ve got heartburn!”
“from what?!”
“I DON’T KNOW! IT ALWAYS HURTS WHEN I GET HERE, OK?!”
“WELL THAT’S NO GOOD!”
“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT!?!”
“NEVERMIND. I’M GONNA GO RIP OUT SOME FLOORING.”
“GOOD. LEAVE ME AND MY FIRE BELLY ALONE!”
“FINE!”
“FINE!”

things seemed to ease up after dad ripped up the floor and cut some stuff with a noisy saw.
we need an exorcist. dad was all, “i wonder if they charge by the square foot?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”

1.04.04
oy2thavey.
the pastor call committee had to meet today from 4:45pm-8:30pm. we had 4 phone interviews. the tough part was sitting down after church and reading through the 4 guys’ resume/information packets (which is why i didn’t make it to core, and that made me sad ‘cos i was hoping to get down there and have the gang pray about the interviews and also maybe pray for me about working at Dreamplex 1.0). talk about boring reading. also, they should totally have a section like:
Question #36
Are you a dickhead? circle yes or no

Question #37
Would you describe your ego as
A. normal
B. slightly larger than a breadbox
C. Buick-sized
D. I’ve been hand-chosen by God to proclaim the Word. I don’t answer to peasants and frankly, i find your method of questioning to be boorish and insulting.

1 guy was nice but not intersted.
1 guy was pretty cool but i think that he’s not interested either.
1 guy was kickass awesome and i hope he’ll be our new pastor. he seemed interested.
1 guy was a complete tool and probably shouldn’t be in ministry. sound familiar?

the interviews went faster than last time and that’s a very good thing. it’s really kind of neat to get to sit in on those interviews and meet these people. although one guy (the tool) was a total He-man Woman Hater. hello? what fucking century are we in anyway? it was cool though how all of us was immediately, “ok we’re definitely not calling this guy back.” it’s nice when we can all agree on something these days.

also, talked to the mechanic today. i’ll have the yeep towed to his place tomorrow. so sad.
so sad.

also, my throat is on fire.
i’m thinking that’s a bad thing.
took some aspirin.

oh feh, i’ve become a “i just took an aspirin” blog.
someone shoot me quick and put me out of your misery!

1.03.04
a 3pm update: so i take the day off from working at Casa Del Feces and i go to the library. it was great. but then on the way home my jeep does the *sputter sputter cough* and there i am on sutton bridge road…just coasting. so i manage to coast into the parking lot of an auto parts place (convenient but not needed) and i say a quick prayer to god thanking him for letting me find a safe place for my jeep to break down and also thank you for not letting me break down in the middle of a busy intersection amen. and then i call my dad and have him come out and get me.

we don’t have a clue what’s wrong with it. all i know for sure is that there is plenty of oil in it but the oil gauge is at zero and the jeep won’t accelerate. also it’s making a hell of a noise. i’m scared that this is the “big one”.

so today i mope.
tomorrow i talk to my mechanic at church.
monday i have the jeep towed to said mechanic’s house.

i may have to put Operation Shithole off and do some “real” jobs so i can get some money so i can buy more wood, paneling, some type of flooring and a new engine.
———————————————————–

i must be working too hard at Shithole 805-A. i had a dream that i was working at Shithole 805-A. i dreamt i was fixing a bad place in the wall of the kitchen while dad was replacing some nasty paneling in the dining room. those are completely normal tasks that need to get done. the only odd thing in the dream was the tornado going on outside.
“hey, i’d really like to see how laura and kris are coming along in Dreamplex 2.0”
“yeah, me too!”
“we could walk over there…if there wasn’t a tornado in the back yard.”
“the tornado is still out there?”
“yeah, i think it’s patrolling.”
skk..hm? wha? *smack smack* bah. dream.
dammit. that means i didn’t get the kitchen wall fixed.

i may just take the day off.

1.02.04
i worked at Dreamplex 1.0 yesterday and today all by my wittle wonesome. i like working there. i think, in some small way, when i get it all done and i move in and there’s nothing left to fix or paint or annoint with holy blessing oil that i’m gonna be a little bit sad because i just love working there so much. i think i’m afraid that when it’s all done and i’m living there that i’ll have nothing to do. i know that’s not true. there’s still work and the internet and the PS2.

laura made me a CD. it is fabulous. and in case you’re wondering laura, the poe song is my favorite one of the bunch.

rang in the new year at a fun party and drank many beers and laughed a lot.

i went to the movies with my coolsexyfleegan and faithful atheist yesterday. we saw paycheck and it was fantastic. it was so good that i couldn’t tell if it was too long. yep, that good.

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