Daylight Slayings Time

Listen, i get enough flack in my daily life. if you want to leave a comment after you read my splendorous/slanderous dribble, go ahead- but please attempt to be a smart and not so much a complete dipshit about all it. Whilst my views might be construed as off-color, what with the Italians and such, keep in mind that i am writing with a Reiner/Brooks 1979-ish sensibility, where off-color Italian hand gestures and Burnadette Peters' awesome tits could coexist without wrath nor vexation. While many of you, the reader, are still trying to figure out if i'm serious about being a blogger, the answer is no. Blogging is for dicks. oh, well, gee, i'm such and such and i have a lot to say about stuff! I'm a latter-day Henry Rollins on Mini Thins declamating my speechification so that my thesaurus-induced boner might poke your mind grape! ( i have to give 30 Rock cred for mind grape). You may be wondering when i'm going to start taking responsibility for whatever... As Kevin Costner (Gardner Barnes) said so eloquently in the following exchange from the criminally overlooked 1985 motion picture, Fandango:
Philip: You are the most irresponsible person I have ever met.
Gardner: Well, somebody had to be.
That said, you might just want to go netflix Fandango, or borrow it from me cuz it's bonified. If you live out of state and want to borrow it, please wait four to six weeks for delivery.
Have y'all ever noticed how much stuff there is to talk about? I mean today alone I could talk about a pantload of things, including but not limited to: Metrotimes Blowout X, Richard Jeni, Coke v. Pepsi, Preppy diffusion, fucking gas prices, Jihad, new Daylight Savings time, my confusion about what's the new John Cusak movie about--the haunted hotel room (1408) or the murderous motel room with the south american cockroaches? Or was that Identity? OR, I MIGHT BE THINKING ABOUT A LUKE WILSON MOVIE. Wait,wha? How about the Riches or, more specifically, why is it so hard for Eddie Izzard to sound naturally non-anglo? It's sort of like Kenneth Branaugh in Dead Again with that brutal american accent. You know motherfucker should be full-court-pressin' some motherfucking Othello and shit. The attempt is so distracting it reminded me of Alan Rickman as Hans Greuber in Die Hard when he's pretending to be American who works for the Nakatomi Corp. and John McClane aint a fool about to get fooled by some British fool layin' out a German accent pretending to be an L.A. guy. But then, it's like oh, shit! Bob Hoskins is fucking British and I've got my arms in the air! And that somehow leaves Minnie Driver with a gigantic jaw and a southern accent- which is surprisingly not offensive when I'm watching tv with myself. I say the Riches makes it...but only if they get less Big Love and more Big Momma's House. But that's not even what I'm talking about here. The reason for writing my blog this evening is to discuss what the crap I'm jamming on these dayz. So without any more tangential ramblings, i'm going to bed.