the third day or, the fattest dr. manhattan ever

the third day of the twentieth year

i slept. i woke. i watchmened. and all was well.

my most lovely friend bethany was supposed to come see the movie with us last night but she got horribly ill so dana came with us instead. all i could do was buy her a mcflurry, so hopefully that frozen delight brought her some comfort before the sinus infection ravaged away the inside of her brain pan.

there are only two pictures today because i didn't think you'd want to see a photo of me laying in bed. or riding the train. or eating in a hospital cafeteria. or buying a doormat. but maybe i'm wrong. maybe my pouring draino-max gel is exciting. maybe clipping my fingernails gets you hot and heavy. but that's enough of the musing. next time i'll take the photo of the cashier attempting in vain to roll up the heavy plastic mat. i did have a slight giggle, but i'm not sure strangers like having their photos taken. we shall see.



i'm pretty sure i liked it, but gods damn was that sex scene unintentionally hilarious. seriously. leonard cohen had no place there, unlike malin's tits, which were rockin'.

dana cannot be photographed. it is scientifically impossible.