Here's your clue:
It's called "Do You Believe In Planets?" and it's NOT this blog.
Okay, Best Ofs will continue in a moment. First, I would like to submit the following complaint:
Portland's location is somewhere between the Twilight Zone and Utterly Fucked. It's fifty degrees and sunny, so I thought it strange when it began to drizzle. But now it decides to hail. And my poor kitty is outside somewhere.
Also, I went to get coffee this morning in preparation for writing approximately twenty pages today, and I ran into my professor whose graduate course on Foucault and Adorno was mistaken by the National Inquirer for a course on Britney Spears. He was up all night last night working on an article for the New York Times about Oregon health care. Apparently it's a collaborative effort with OR's former governor.
The man teaches in the English Department and the film department, gets published left and right on issues ranging from Lacon to film theory, plus he has a law degree. Can't he leave health care for someone else?
Over-achievers make me feel bad about myself. I think I'll apply for a job at Plaid Pantry this week.
Most Obvious Appreciation of the fact that "we ain't the ones gettin' hitched" Caught On Film in 2004
Best Guffaw By Non-Inbred Contestant of 2004
Best DJ EVER. On the playlist:
That's all I can account for at this time.
I danced my ass off.
Alcohol intake? Let's just say it took me five tries to type "playlist."
Weekends mean nothing to me.