I Would Like To Extend To You An Invitation To The Pants Party

This weekend was really something special, as jack and shit lovingly embraced me from both sides in a glorious orgy of inactivity and general laziness. I didn't watch my anticipated 6 movies featuring frequent explosions, but I did catch the equivalent amount of fiery wreckage in the second half of The Specialist, a movie so mindless and awesome that I once read that they produced the entire thing without a script. Sly, you blow shit up, and James Woods, you just be an unbelievable badass...and, action! I also caught Anchorman, a movie I thought I'd seen before, but apparently had only seen the first half of--I must have dozed off or something the first time, because I'm pretty sure I'd remember Steve Carell stabbing someone with a trident.

Wait, I guess I wasn't entirely lazy, I totally "cleaned" the upstairs, by which I mean I windexed every available surface until the fumes put me under, or maybe it was that nice man hiding in my closet with that funny smelling rag. In any event, when I woke up I was chained to a radiator in Goshen wearing nothing but superman underoos. Oh, and Hacienda is my new favorite place. Individual salsa dishes, baby! Individual salsa dishes.