Stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder

1. Chicken Han Solo frozen in carbonite:


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2. Labor Day weekend:

French toast at R Thomas before seeing Transsiberian Saturday night with L. The internet promised us this film was a "Thriller," but I believe we need a new genre to classify this one: Transsiberian is a "Bummer," all claustrophobic and grey. And the redemptive ending is too weak and inconclusive to make up for all the iffy blah stuff which went before. But hey, I like dark film. And we all love gloomy blear, right? I mean... don't we?

Hello?

Anyway, the film happened between two visits to a house L was considering renting half of. The house, which tried to convince us it was the right house, wasn't.

Back to the Nunnery for wine.

Sunday was weird. Strange people behaving strangely, the world misbehaving. A brief Solioonensius.

And so, calling to mind what C3PO tried to tell us even though we weren't really listening to him when he said it, namely that "the possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately 3720 to 1," we did what people have traditionally done in similar situations: we cleaned the kitchen, washed the dishes, and drove to IKEA. And later slept watching Groundhog Day.

Monday, the holiday, was spent paying attention to the Nunnery. L and I ate bar-b-que and watched Annie Hall. So, yeah, a quiet weekend. And today I was able to catch up on some correspondence I've been meaning to get to.

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3. Listening now to Dairy Queen Empire.