Friday Night. Yeah.

It was a rough capstone to a rough week, and I somehow sensed it was coming and drove instead of riding the bus to work.

Driving home down Hawthorne, I had some vauge idea of buying some pure escapisim at Powell’s and wandering to one of the local watering holes for a pint.

There on the marquee of The Bagdad, red letters glowed in the afternoon sun.

Transformers 2, 4.15pm

I quickly hit the clock button on my car (The Dream Boat) and discovered it was 3.45. And there, right in front of me, someone pulled out of a two hour parking space a mere 25 feet from the front door of the theater.

I hit the brakes, and paralell parked the Dream Boat like a pro. I got carded, I got my pint and my pizza, and I sat down.

Then I promptly forgot what film I was going to see. I knew it started with a T– so it was either going to be Transformers or Terminator, and I figured since both had 100% of my recommended daily allowance of ‘splodey, it would be okay.

So, what was my review of Transformers 2? Well, as I told Twitter, “Anyone who doesn’t like this movie has no soul. Or made the misteak of thinking.”

Now, I’m sitting in front of my computer, watching Season 6 of No Reservations on Netflix Watch Instantly.

(Oh, darn. I didn’t buy a book. Guess I’ll have to go back!)
Life is good.

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