Come to the candy mountain!
I celebrated the 4th of July like any good patriotic American: I had a beer. Or two. I don’t remember. Not because I had too much to drink. No, I don’t remember because I don’t care to. The 4th of July was really just July 4, 2008 for me. I don’t get too excited about that holiday; I only care that it means I get to take a day off work and be paid for it. That is the only thing that matters in the end.
There were also torrential rain showers all weekend. Our parking lot is made almost entirely of mud now. I haven’t ventured out to my car yet (I take the bus to work) to see if the water level rose high enough to ruin my life. I’m kind of hoping it didn’t. If it did, I might cry. A lot. So we stayed inside all weekend because it’s also been quite nasty out with the heat and the humidity, which are both things I despise. I fought with our internet for about an hour Saturday night until I finally convinced it to work. No internet in our household means we’ll probably be dead before you can say SPAMMITY CALAMITY.
On Friday I watched all of The Island of Dr. Moreau on YouTube. Oh yes, I am that classy. I didn’t mean to. I just sat down to watch the beginning and the next thing I knew, I had clicked through about 8 parts of the movie and decided I might as well just watch the end. That movie is like a bad acid trip with some really attractive scenery. I was most pleased by a weary, dirty David Thewlis walking around in the surf without any shoes on.
I know I’m about 20 years late on this boat but I don’t care. This is some funny stuff: