ヴェラ would tell me now and then how she thinks she a nightmare ruined her sleep, but can't remember what about. (Probably the realization who she's with.) I guess she doesn't have my capacity to preserve an imagination corrupted by comics and junk: like yesterday I was faced with the impossible task of fighting a god. He was a giant, and took a form similar to Galactus, swatting us like so many action figures. Just when it appeared we were making progress by climbing up His back, He threw at us weird powers beyond our comprehension—and therefore, expectation—like turning my partner's own bones on me to drum special frequencies against my skin that would take over my mind. This was the Fantastic Four villain, however, so I must've decided to get this over with by bringing in the Ultimate Nullifier, represented by a sort of puzzle made up of metal sticks that came together at the hands of Reed Richards's super-for-human-brain into the final M-shape. Pull the handles apart, and it was all over for the universe!

Posted by me at 09:37 AM | Permalink

Would've sent the card, but work lately's been a cross between Michael Douglas vs. Demi Moore in Disclosure and George Costanza vs. Play Now (remember when they moved him into the "bunker" office, that's what the bitch sprung on me this week) so you'll have to settle for a scan:

Posted by me at 04:38 PM | Permalink

My last post on the subject of the Transformers movie (at least until it's released on Blu-Ray in time for Christmas), which I insist was a spectacle worth the price of admission—no, the comeuppance its realization must've been to all those anime snobs too good for the original cartoon—would be remiss without mention of the J.J. Abrams trailer that made up for Godzilla so many summers ago. I wonder if the couple who actually chose to get married before that fateful screening have fared any better than will those who put their faith in the lucky sevens over the weekend?

Posted by me at 11:12 PM | Permalink

ヴェラ kept the latest issue of that catalogue you really want to discover something useful in to make up for forgetting to bring a more interesting magazine from the seat pocket in front of her recent flight and showed me the solar-powered motion-detecting flood light she's interested in installing for her front door, but it was this that caught my eye, a surreal two-page spread near the front for spring-loaded platform dress shoes, the latest from "Alexander Invention Wizard":

The shoes that world famous Secret Agents wear to the black tie party where they end up doing reconnaissance before they are chased around a European city by evil henchmen […] You will feel like you can keep up with the best of the World Famous Secret Agents when you are wearing the Gravity Defying Shoe.

Posted by me at 12:09 AM | Permalink

I strutted to the front of the line at the box office, having pre-purchased online the day before. Tickets printed which read, sorry, this showtime has passed… I had used Tuesday's bookmark when checking out. Manager just let us in. No need for the five-hour parking validation, either. Insane, thrill-a-million-dollar-minute movie sure to render obsolete slow-motion kung fu as performed by humans and made me wonder how I could spend the same two hours or so earlier sitting through yet another evil spirit with no apparent agenda in ノロイ. Seriously, the Japanese will bow down to Optimus Prime (コンボイ who?) just like Kobayashi did over the holiday.

Posted by me at 09:58 AM | Permalink

I deserve everything I have coming to me: I care now more about what happened to my Hookups Transformers T-shirt (from during that lull between the 80's and when the logos started appearing on merchandise in mall stores with no purchasing guidance whatsoever) than the administration making yet another mockery of the highest laws of the land.

Posted by me at 12:33 PM | Permalink

Looks like Stephen Colbert got the last laugh, after all. 비 canceled his Staples Center concert Saturday night, and while the Significant Other received a heads-up from a co-worker who had already paid $10 for parking and consolation later from me and Ratatouille, others were not as fortunate:

I am livid about all the money I spent on this trip. I have always supported Rain one billion % and stood by him but this was so not cool. Not to mention the 20 bucks we paid to park just to sit in line for 45 minutes and be told it was canceled. I feel like a used fan. Canada, stage problems.. Hawaii, stage problems....L.A? Should have been fine if the practices had been taken care of and bugs worked out like we were told. I would have even understood if it got canceled yesterday but right before we were to be let in the building???? Now I have to drive 20 hours back to Seattle after 900 dollars in VIP tickets, 100 dollars to make shirts, 38 dollars in glow sticks, 400 dollars in motel costs not to mention endless other costs like rental cars, gas and so on. I seriously am in shock. I am sitting here in a motel with Rain on my shirt made lovingly by me with a rhinestone R I spent all night making. I have a huge burn scar on my hand from where I ironed myself putting on his pictures on my shirt and I am in tears. I want to believe in him, I really do but right now I can barely breathe I am crying so hard.

She also told me about another fan who flew in from Japan and showed up decked out in a kimono with a giant decorated sign. Oh well, hope he wins them all back next year as Snake Oiler.

Posted by me at 06:58 AM | Permalink