shotgun to ejaculate
Sunday, February 12 2006
There were a couple of inches of fresh snow on the ground this morning. Unlike in the case of past February snows in this area, it had fallen on snowless ground. Though a couple feet ended up falling down in New York City, so little fell here that I didn't even have to bother shoveling it.
This afternoon Gretchen and I watched a DVD of the cinematic version of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Parts of it were clever and/or funny, but it really wasn't the mindfuck I was hoping it would be. The closest it came to that was in the scene where, while firing the Infinite Improbability Drive, everyone changed from live action to something that can only be described as yarnimation. That single brief scene made the whole movie worth watching.
In the evening Gretchen and I went to a little dinner party at the green-painted residence of our elderly neighbors, "The Greenhouses." Also in attendance were our downhill neighbors and Andrea, the photographer/reporter woman who lives across the street from the Greenhouses. (Andrea frequently takes our dogs during periods when we are out of town.) All of us are Bush-hating liberal types, and we all were excited by the news told by Mr. Greenhouse that Vice President Dick Cheney had, in a telling moment of poorly-considered decisiveness, shot one of his well-connected Republican hunting buddies while on a canned hunt of farm-raised quail in Texas. (I would have preferred to learn that Cheney had gunned down everyone in his asshole hunting contingent and then drunkenly caused his shotgun to ejaculate into his own asshole, but this news was about as good as could be expected.)
Later, during dinner, I fixed a problem with the Greenhouses' video equipment, making them absolutely delighted in the process.
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