And You Thought I'd Write About Sex! SILLY.

Tee hee.

The 24 season premiere just ended -- two 2-hour movies in two days, which is to say GayBoy and I had two dinners & a movies, but I was cheap and served a repeat tonight: leftover Chicken Pot Pie. BUT YOU AIN'T HAD MY PIE, so keep yer trap shut. It's a good thang, baybey.

DOH! FEISTY BITCH THAT I AM... spoilers proceed! Avert thy eyes, series latecomers! Avert! Avert!

And to those of you in Los Angeles, my sympathies! Tragic, that detonation of a nuclear bomb, and on Martin Luther King day! Those fucking terrorists, how dare they. I had a dream, and it didn't include a dirty suitcase bomb, you fuckers!

Heh. Pardon me. I've been slapped silly with a 1-litre bottle of red wine courtesy the fabulous GayBoy, but then again, I'd bought a bottle and figured the suspense of whether it was any good was too cruel a secret to keep in the wake of a dirty suitcase bomb wiping out hundreds of thousands of innocent lives in Los Angeles... even if it is the plastic surgery capitol of the world. I mean, if you're gonna take out people, make it the plastic ones, right? Did I say that out loud, or just think it?

Ah, well.

Anyhow. I can't help it. I've been a fan of 24 since season one, except for season three and parts of season four. Sheesh. And now I'm bitter that I only get it in digestible 1-hour segments from now until the end of the next 20 weeks. Curse you, Fox executives!!

I had a job interview today, one of three this week. I'm dialing shit up a notch since I'm motivated. Small matter of being informed on Friday that there's 95% chance I'm to be laid off in, oh, nine days. Legally, no notice was required, but I'm a good person employed by good peoples, so they're as cool as all get-out, and they've told me in advance.

I didn't get the Friday job, but the odds are higher on today's interview anyhow. (On Friday I got exposed to the true realities of that job, and suffice to say: I was intimidated. Not disappointed to have lost it other than the "it'd be nice to have food to eat" residual emotions there. Whatever. Onward and upward goes this girlie, I would hope.) Next week is my week. Something's gonna pan out before long. I'm on my game and I know it.

Anyhoo. I have a half-glass of wine leftover. (I typed "whine" first. Freudian slip? Only time will tell.)

GO, JACK, GO. One mushroom cloud is one cloud too many! Even if it IS L.A... Ahem. I mean, Disneyland is there. How can the Happiest Place On Earth go up in a mushroom cloud? Tigger won't be able to bitch-slap anymore kids, but still... The kid's a punk. GO, TIGGER!