I'm sitting down here to post after a night of mindless television. Well, it's not totally mindless, really. It's "24." And while "day three" is admittedly not up to the caliber of the first two seasons, it's still better than anything on standard broadcast television today.
The "brass bra cold" has gotten worse, if you can imagine. I donned the layers like a UPS package and was still frozen solid by the time I got to work. It's warmer in my apartment. I'm keeping the thermostat at a balmy 60 degrees out of fear that People's Energy'll gouge my ass over the winter months. I'm either keeping the gas bill at under two hundred dollars a month throughout winter or I'm dying of pneumonia. There's no middle ground here.
Last night's "House of Dreams" premiere party at Piece Pizza was a blast. I made a bet with another friend over whether Mark, who's on the show, would be the first one voted off. The bet was only for a beer. A good beer.
And I'll end this exercise in trying to break my writer's block here. Good Night.
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