This weekend I watched a couple of movies:

1.) No Country For Old Men, which reinforced my belief that Javier Bardem is nothing but fucking scary. I've believed that for some time now. He's the scariest man in film at this point - the sound of his voice creeps me out until I want to cry like a little girl who just fell down the stairs and broke two ribs and an ankle. He has de-throned Ted Levine (of Silence of the Lambs and Joy Ride) from his previous standing as the most fucked up serial killer voices in the history of serial killers. "Candy Cane, come on!" and "I would fuck me...I would fuck me so hard" have been replaced by "What business is it of yours, friendo?" And the repeating, always the repeating...

2.) My Man Godfrey. Carole Lombard and William Powell, HAWT and hilarious. I rank this one up there with It Happened One Night, Bringing Up Baby, and The Philadelphia Story. Can't rank them against each other. They're all too fabulous.

I've been thinking and reading and researching about grad school endlessly. I discovered a program today in an in-state school that sounds like it suits my needs and requirements just about perfectly. More on this later. Must call schools and investigate.

Pass the time with this:



Nothin' like some mad squirrel action.