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5:29am

Right now, this is a very different experience than last year. We had three shite movies back to back last year around this time. At this particular moment, we were jowl-deep in Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill! and we were totally exhausted. This year, we all hit a fatigue wall around 8pm, but since then it’s all been gravy. Probably because the movies have been great since then. Lebowski—rockin;’ Oldboy—squiffy; The Descent—scary-ass scary. I am fraking wide away right now, and drinking again. This is both the earliest and the latest I’ve ever had a drink before.

We’ve made some nerdy-ass videos and taken nerdy-ass pictures, and maybe the humour might not translate to you non-participants, but we laughed off making them. Just you wait and see.
BTW: this movie is making me feel very claustrophobic right now!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Dude.
I am tired.
25 hours and counting now.

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I should add...

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Change Two: Drink More Water Such a simple thing, yet something I just can't seem to find the time to do. About the only water I drink in your average day is whatever sweat happens to trickle off my mustache. Hydration (so the smart people tell me) is a good thing. I'm less fatigued when I drink water. I'm less hungry when I drink water. I'm even less grumpy when I drink water. I promise you nothing especially impressive. Eight glass a day ain't gonna happen. I'm shooting for two on average; two trendy, metallic, not gonna bleed Bisphenol A into my system bottles of water. I know were off to a rip-roaring start, what with the list-making and the hydration, but I'll try to get crazier with future changes. Stuff like: go to work drunk more, and buy a pair of leather pants. For now, let me ease into it.

A complex phrase, in which the various parts are enchained

“Barry,” my cousin Mike said, “I think it’s time.” It was clear that my brother didn’t feel the same way, but he only shrugged, which Mike took as agreement. “Dave,” he said, giving the words as much gravity as he could muster, “Go get the dictionary.” I was nine years old, and a tag-along. I’d walked in on my brother telling a story about how—during school that morning—a girl he knew got her period in the middle of French class. And I laughed like the dickens. And then they called me on it. After I’d lugged the dictionary down from the spare room, Mike told me to look up the word period and read out the definition. “The end of a cycle, a series of events, or a single action?” “Keep going,” he said. “The full pause with which a sentence closes?” “Not that.” “An interval of geologic—“ “Gimme that!” He yanked the book towards him, read down the page, and pointed me towards the definition he’d found. Menstruation: the monthly discharge of blood from the uterus of nonpregnant women from pu...