Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m a little behind the times. Graduate school made it difficult for me to keep up with all current film/television happenings. For example, I’m just now at the end of The Sopranos . . . season 2. I’ll admit it – while violent and (on the whole) degrading to women, it is addictive. Janice killed Ritchie? Pussy is an informant? Carmella nearly had an affair?

It’s a fucking soap opera and I am addicted. I cannot stop watching it. Three in the afternoon on a Wednesday and there I am, sitting on the couch in a wife beater and sweat pants, mouth agape, watching The Sopranos. All I need is a box of bon-bons and an extra cat.

This afternoon, I tore myself away from The Sopranos to watch Grizzly Man. Depressing. Very, very depressing. Though the kind of mad passion Timothy Treadwell possessed is quite fascinating to me. Sadly, sometimes the most passionate people are also . . . um . . . insane. See, the thing is, grizzly bears can’t be your friends. Actually, no bears can be your friends. Except maybe teddy bears . . . and even those can only be your friend for a short time before it becomes what they call “abnormal.”

I’m currently trying to build enough momentum to propel myself down Clark and over to Trans-Mission where lw is dj-ing tonight. I should probably shower and go there. Be social. Stop hanging out with all these bears and go hang out with some trannies . . .

Link of the day (one of my all time favorite SNL sketches): THIS.