That's what I'm doing right now, though -- eating a pomegranate. Sucking the delicious, succulent, red pulp from these annoying friggin' seeds. I offered some to my roommate Josh who turned it down. Apparently he's too good for fruit that takes two weeks to eat. I can justify the time expenditure, but I really hope those dwarves bust into my room through my closet so I can figure out which one is responsible for the pomegranate's design, and throttle him.
I uh, I'm pretty tired, but even in my present cognitively deficient state, that joke seems lame and obscure. I expect it will be even lamer and obscurer in the morning. I just checked dictionary.com to see if "obscurer" is a real word, and to my dismay, it is.
Last night I did Rocky Horror. As always. We had a very minimalist cast who performed anyway. I made a short, disasterous appearance as Betty Hapschatt. How can Betty be performed disasterously? You don't want to know. Anyway, casting was very weird -- most of the characters were played by multiple people during the course of the film. Hal who's been coming to the show played a whole bunch of roles, and though I haven't been formally introduced to her, I see that she's on everybody else's friends lists. I checked out her journal. It's entertaining. I've added her. Hi, Hal.
During the Eddie's Teddy, some guy from Minnesota came over to ask me what the hell was going on ("I just come from the game and saw they had a movie on so's I stopped in to watch it. I never seen nothin' like this in my life, 'cept for one time in '92."). Weird stuff. Then after the show at Country Kitchen, some guy who's name I don't know slammed his forehead against a table at me.
I rarely understand what's going on.
Yeah, so what'd I do today? I went to my parents' house where I helped my dad move a freezer. After that, I went over to his friend's house to fix a computer. This particular friend of my dad's is (and my dad would be the first to point this out) not the sharpest cheese in the deli. Neither are his wife or son, and all three of them have this thing about clicking on every popup ad that appears on their screen. Add to this the fact that they download every piece of free (or trial) software they find, and you have an unbelievable mess which reboots the moment any key is pressed. That's right kids, we're talking about a 104-key reset button.
I got it sorted out.
I also discovered that 48 gigs of their 120 gig hard drive are populated by pornography. Each member of the family has a personal folder stashed in some unlikely corner of the hard drive, and I don't think any of them realize that the others also have collections. It's pretty funny, especially to see their son's stash, which is meticulously separated into descriptive folders (C:\Pr0n\Girls\Blondes\With Tattoos\And Piercings\And Robot Monkeys\Set 12\77.jpg).
After that, I watched The House That Dripped Blood, which no one should ever see. It was written by Robert Bloch (who wrote Psycho and a whole bunch of dumber-than-usual Cthulhu mythos stories), and stars Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee and John Pertwee. Somehow it manages to suck. Go figure.
Anyway, check out my updated, fairly scary user picture (taken by my boss). One of these days I'll redo my ASCII picture to reflect my present appearance. Yeah, sure I will.