Gregory Peck in Moby Dick. I need to dig out my copy of Mr Melville’s work, it’s a fine Winter read.
The damp cold is making my toes unhappy. I foresee being bundled up under blankets, reading.
Today I deliberately test my tolerance and ability to remain open-minded: watching all of the Ancient Aliens television series. No guffaws, and trying to curb snarky comments. Finding evidence of what you want to find is not difficult. All I have so far.
How do I know they’re hipsters? I am in a taproom. I have a Cuvee des Jacobins rouge, he’s drinking a 12 oz bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Combined with the jeggings and the chunky-framed glasses, I think I am on. My hand is itching to belt him in the mouth.
Montpelier, Vermont. My hatred for hipsters has crossed into homicidality.
Superoxygenisation. And stretching.
“Dr” Nakamatsu is fucking insane. Case in point: http://worldwide.espacenet.com/publicationDetails/biblio?DB=EPODOC&adjacent=true&locale=en_gb&FT=D&date=20081127&CC=JP&NR=2008285939A&KC=A
Mark of Cain. Likely no surprise that I am fascinated with Russian prison tattoos.
Journey to the Seventh Planet. Pure cheese and over-acting.
Hash. Pork. Sausage, bacon, potatos cut small. Fried in one pan. Eggs whipped and poured over the top. A little cheddar. Then go kick the day square in the junk
Not exactly schadenfreude -I will sing show tunes when neo-Rome burns. Beyond misanthropy into a cultivated hatred for shallowness, self-importance, lack of integrity, and deliberate selection of the most convenient lifestyle. I hate, therefore I am.
Joyeux Noel indeed: Flying robots build 20-foot tower in France | Crave - CNET
Dogtooth. An amazing film. I knew I would like it from the moment the younger daughter cut the doll’s toes off.
And there I was thinking that I was past schadenfreude.
I am amused to no end. And, the recession isn’t over by any means, endless repetition by media pundits and politicians aside. 2010 Carbon Dioxide Output Shows Biggest Jump Ever - NYTimes.com