Navel Gazing

It feels like I've been stuck in a rut the past month or so and I don't know why exactly -- a combination of shitty weather and encroaching ennui. Bottom line is something needed to be done to shake things up. A sudden jolt to the system to increase vitality. I considered buying a last minute ticket to Chicago for college homecoming weekend, but did not. Instead a group of miscreants from around here will be traveling to the middle of bumblefuck Pennsylvania -- a cabin miles from anything. Hopefully someone will bring a gun to fire into the mountain. I'm not sure if "the cabin" has ever been mentioned here before ... it is a thing, that's for sure. Schwab mentioned it in a comment that had nothing to do with the post, I think.

Anyway, that's the fucking plan. An escape from realitosis, if you will -- maybe not a full retaking of collegiate self-destruction, but damn close and with fewer Indians and Jews. I know what you are probably thinking -- what does this have to do with a baby holding a gun in its mouth? There is a reason, but I won't put it out there at this point, because it doesn't make a whole of sense.



Changing the subject to ennui's vindictive German cousin, schadenfruede, go read this interview with Bronson Pinchot, in which he hates on such luminaries as Tom Cruise and Denzel Washington from the perspective of a coworker. It's been tearing up the Web the past week or so, the consensus being it is one of the best "Random Roles" outside of this one with Teri Garr, where she talks shit about someone, questions herself, and then says "Fuck it, he's dead."