TMFGIF...sort of, plans for the weekend, and THE KILLER (8).

Thank little baby Jesus that it's Friday. I haven't had a day off in like five months, and for whatever reason after working nearly eleven days in a row pretty much from 8 in the morning until 6 at night, I'm more exhausted than I usually am. I'm literally dozing off in my office (read: dingy old couch in the downstairs of an insurance building) trying to fight off the after-effects of a pretty sub-par turkey sandwich. I've convinced myself at least once a day, that said day would be the day I jump back on the running bandwagon, but through this haze of tiredness, all I can see is jumping on to a couch and falling asleep amongst empty Rainer cans, cookie crumbs, and my own obesity. I like to call it the weekend.

You know in all reality, I actually have, for the first time in a long while, a bit of weekend ahead of me. Tonight, ladies avert your eyes, I'm partaking in my annual Fantasy Basketball Draft. In laymen's terms this means a bunch of late 20-somethings will be huddling around their laptops in my living room, hopefully, watching 1980s dunk contests, drinking cold-cheap beer and yelling obscene things about various members of their family. Who'da thunk that the mid-20s would be the most exciting time in my life?

Saturday has offered vague rumors of a party in a semi-far off part of Washington. I've heard that the locale is "built for partying" and that this party will not be stopping until "4 am". All I really care about is that I'll have the opportunity to dress up like world-renowned mid-80s Swedish tennis star Bjorn Borg. For you ladies, that means I'll be rocking, very very short shorts and a very tight polo and wielding a stick to knock back the hordes of beauties trying to take me home. I warned you!

Sunday I will call recovery day, but it could involve a little Probama rallying, perhaps a trip to the nerdiest of nerd joints (a record convention) and then the sleep of the dead, the sweet sweet dead. Hope your weekends also involve short shorts and fake sports!

If you haven't seen The Killer (7) I'm skeptical about you. This is one of the modern classics in terms of film. A Chinese action-flick by John Woo that pretty much invented the modern tropes of action films. Slow-mo gun-fire, double-gun wielding, exploding pigeon cages, blind piano playing women ... it's all here. Chow-yun Fat, you uneducated Whities know him as the older ass-kicker in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, plays a jazz-playing cop who, well, if I remember correctly, shoots a lot of people, using a ridiculous amoutn of bullets, and jumps over a lot of things in slow-mo. John Woo, made maybe three more good films before completely jumping the rails in to shit town. This is an out of print Criterion film, so I've only seen it on a well-worn VHS my good friend Bao Tran gave to me many many years ago. Please, do yourself a favor, see this movie.

Have a good weekend. Drink too many beers and do something stupid! I know I will!

Monday: Lord of the Flies (43) and Hard Boiled (9)