Tuesday, May 04, 2004

I just noticed that my blog will be one year old this Sunday.

I'm not sure what I'll do to celebrate. Maybe I'll try that 'alcohol' thing the kids keep talking about. Apparently you can drink it. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try it once. But I certainly won't make a habit of it.

On the good news/bad news front, I was futzing around with my TV set yesterday and somehow managed to get the antenna to work. Oops. Rather than ripping out whatever wire I had managed to connect, I sat down and watched part two of '10.5', which was truly and spectacularly horrible. Everyone involved with it should be deeply ashamed. And I feel truly bad for the trained monkeys that they hired to write the script, which was indeed the TV equivalent of flinging feces.

But I watched it.

That's why I haven't made any serious effort to get cable or attach my antenna. I am mesmerized by the idiot box to the exclusion of all else. Well, except for porn. They run neck and neck. Or neck and something else. The point is, this is not a good thing.

So I suppose it is inevitable that I will be watching the 'Friends' series finale. I haven't seen the show since 2001. I assume I haven't missed anything important. Everyone's still white. They don't have any other friends. They drink coffee. Chandler is annoying. Monica looks anorexic. Ross hasn't yet been bludgeoned to death. Joey and Phoebe are still two-dimensional. Rachel is . . . whatever it is that she is. Cute and whiny?

What I'd like to see on the finale. Joey admits that he and Chandler are more than friends. The monkey comes back and kills Ross. Phoebe marries Ozzy Osbourne and gets a spinoff series on MTV. Rachel . . . ah, who the fuck cares? The episode ends with Monica finally snapping after not having eaten for about 6 years and eating the rest of the cast.

Then, after the credits, we find out that the entire series was just a dream Ugly Naked Guy was having.


So what do you figure? Ten years until the reunion special? Five? Fall?

I'm still remarkably busy at work. And yet, I'm blogging. I need a break and this is lunchtime, so I'll cut myself a little slack.

I'm still working on my job description (turns out everyone has to do one . . . since we can't all be getting fired, I'm not too worried). On paper, I do a lot.

Well, back to the salt mines. Okay, it's not really a salt mine. There are precious few of those left in Manhattan.

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