Metal stars scrape inside the space stomach.
The table by the fast kitchen's burning.
Atlas as bee sags through a wax hammock.
For hares at night there's no learning.
Tall cat ghosts smell like rotten, peeled onion.
Lasers replaced floss security beams.
Phantom toenails make purses malfunction.
No hula hoop's exactly what it seems.
Juice you smell is the fallen orange soldier.
Springsteen pleads with cosmic John Huston ghost.
Money's caffeine for the cash register.
Squeeze out your citrus or insult the host.
Leaf shadows are caterpillar evil.
Green mice are far deadlier than Fievel.
I've known exactly what's going to happen in the next Venia's Travels script for almost a month but I'm still having trouble getting started. It's apparently an inevitability.
I need to get a new scanner as my old one uses some kind of cable computers don't take seriously anymore. Looks like I can get a decent one for fifty bucks, but I also need to get an oil change for my car and it's the end of the month, when I'm automatically charged for a lot of things. I went to get an oil change yesterday but when I walked up to the place, a guy working there said something to me like, "Ethigolly outside a minute inside. Boggy ental just a minute, only tack wish." I have no idea what he said, and he didn't even have an accent. I'm wondering if I'm losing my hearing. I'm constantly asking people to repeat themselves nowadays. Actually, it's not so much that I can't hear them as that I'm having more trouble resolving voices into words. Accents don't seem to make any difference.
I was watching BBC America a couple days ago and saw a promo for Star Trek: The Next Generation that featured a tagline that was something like, "All beings are created equal!" BBC seems to take a really strange tact in pursuing American viewers, apparently feeling that Americans can only be interested in American programming. And with the reference to the Declaration of Independence, it's almost a step away from the BBC saying, "We like you blokes, really, we don't want to go to war again!"
I saw Christina Ricci on Graham Norton a couple days ago. Holy shit, she's impossibly hot now. It's as though she's gotten more attractive in exact, inverse proportion to her dwindling fame. I hear she's naked in a large percentage of a new, otherwise crappy movie, but it's not playing anywhere near here. But the new movie absent from San Diego cinemas I'd really like to see is My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done a Werner Herzog movie produced by David Lynch. The movie even takes place and was shot in San Diego--how is it not playing here? It's fucking killing me. Moviefone.com, when I put in the San Diego zip code, gives the closest location as being a theatre in Chicago. Very funny, Dr. Jones.