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11 December Yesterday I absolutely dragged my ass out of bed. I practically needed dynamite. It was dreadful, but I absolutely had to go to the darkroom. I was there for eight hours and made fifteen Xmas presents. Everyone's getting pictures this year, man. Well, everyone over twenty, I'm not forcing them on the kids.
Afterwards I decided to see Proof of Life again. Hey, what do you expect, I'm not made of stone! Again, though, I had to wait three hours for an un-sold-out show, so I fumphered around, shopping and eating and trying to stay out of the cold. I think this whole sold-out show phenomena is all a ploy to get us consumers to shop more. Well, it certainly worked on my account. I found The Raccoon's Xmas present at Virgin, and spied a couple more but didn't buy them and got The Limey and Fast Times at Ridgemont High for myself. I just thought, what will I be unable to live without come 1 January, and those were the ones that both popped out at me and were on sale.
The movie was, of course, wonderful again. This time I was really struck by the lovely performance by the actor playing the other hostage, Gottfried John. He really was very consistent in a role that required him to do many different things, albeit somewhat fleetingly. I also was struck anew by just exactly how much I want to sleep with Russell Crowe and David Morse. Hey, I never claimed not to be shallow. And a darn good thing too, eh?
Sorry this is fragmented and flat this morning, but I had about seven minutes of sleep and am several dwarves as a result. Meaning that I am Dopey and Sleepy and a little Grumpy. I'm be more clever and winning tomorrow. Probably.
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