everyone's entitled to my opinion
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Visit the MESSAGE BOARDS Where everyone knows how sleep-deprived you are |
 Short crime musical with armed thugs in drag |
 Short screen opera about God, with funny parts |
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Father of twins and novelist/filmmaker/musician
in New York on the
Upper Upper Upper Upper
Upper West Side.
People complain about musicals.
Nobody just stops in the street
I say you know the wrong people.
They say:
and breaks into song.
Mars Cars
So... considering the phone call I got from my wife the other day ("Why did I just get a shipment of 3D glasses at work?") and the fact that this and this are my wallpaper images on two computers...
Like I'm not going to sign up on the waiting list for this.
I'm riding my bike, working on my storyboards, talking on the phone, making tea; and at that very moment, other members of my species have managed to lob a little buggy 302,600,000 miles off the Earth, smacked it right into the face of Mars, and are now driving it around--they're driving a little buggy around on another planet while I'm drinking my tea!
This makes me happy and very proud of my species, which doesn't happen all that often. Usually I'm just wondering what mutation afforded us this unique talent to so seriously screw things up.
As I click "Save Entry," the Mars Rover is soaking up the sun and making little metal wheel tracks. I'll be dead before civilians walk on that red dirt, but this is just fine for now.
[Best of the Blog]
Like I'm not going to sign up on the waiting list for this.
I'm riding my bike, working on my storyboards, talking on the phone, making tea; and at that very moment, other members of my species have managed to lob a little buggy 302,600,000 miles off the Earth, smacked it right into the face of Mars, and are now driving it around--they're driving a little buggy around on another planet while I'm drinking my tea!
This makes me happy and very proud of my species, which doesn't happen all that often. Usually I'm just wondering what mutation afforded us this unique talent to so seriously screw things up.
As I click "Save Entry," the Mars Rover is soaking up the sun and making little metal wheel tracks. I'll be dead before civilians walk on that red dirt, but this is just fine for now.
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