I'm drinking an industrial sized Diet Coke from the Super Size department, my second actually. I wear my sunglasses at night on account of my eyes being dilated by a vicious bottle of crazy chemicals. My eyes will never trust me again. Sure we're going for ice cream. Next time you'll tell us we're going to Disneyland, say my eyes. But to reward them, shh don't tell, I bought swanky new glasses. Because Lasik is still a few thousand more than I'm willing to pay. Though my eyes assure me, pay I will - though more in the spirit of revenge than monetary output.
A psychic who also happens to be related to me says I should stop writing plays immediately and shift to short stories instead. I'll chew on it.
Saw "Hellboy" at the three dollar theater yesterday and hot damn, it was entertaining. Definitely worth three bones. Though in retrospect there were plot holes large enough for Sisyphus to push a boulder through.
On that note I'm off to wrestle a bottle of mouth wash and get my crap together for the second to last meeting of my playwrighting workshop. Two days until Yosemite and the grand adventure of May 2004.
