Abdominal Nazis, Scientologists and Tire Irons
Last night I went to see War of the Worlds, and as suspenseful as it was, I couldn’t take it too seriously with crazy Tom Cruise traipsing all over the countryside escaping aliens one close shave after another. I didn’t want to kill Dakota Fanning, which is high praise on my part. The best part of the evening, and I mean this as sarcastically as possible, was when I got a flat tire at the end of the night. During the apocalyptic downpour. In Delaware. Luckily, one of my more surprising attributes is that I can change a tire in no time flat all by myself. CC, who was with me, acting my Lamaze coach, said I should enter a contest. It’s always fun to do things that surprise people. She couldn’t have been more surprised if I actually gave birth on the side of the road. I have never done that. When I told Yos about it, he had this to say:
Me: I changed a tire all by myself last night.
Yos: Were you sober?
If nothing else, my reputation precedes me.
Overcoming my computer-operating ineptitude, with the help of assclown, I have added some of my favorite links to the left side of the page. These are sites that I read frequently. I am humbled by their creativity, and I steal from them as often as I can.