Tonight, I watched Punch-Drunk Love. The Not-So-Bald Mountain has billed this movie as being better than the Second Coming. I found it to be an utter waste of my time. I did not think it was possible for a movie to feature the great Luis Guzman and still be so mind-numbingly boring. Thus, I make the following declaration: I will put out my own eyes before ever seeing another Paul Thomas Anderson movie.

"Stacy's mom has got it going on
She's all I want and I've waited for so long
Stacy can't you see
You're just not the girl for me
I know it might be wrong
But I'm in love with Stacy's mom."
(Fountains of Wayne, "Stacy's Mom" from Welcome Interstate Managers)

Sardine called the apartment over the weekend; I called her back tonight. I have no idea what, if anything, is going on. I might as just accept the fact that, for all practical intents and purposes, I'm a eunuch.

All of a sudden, I really really want to see American Wedding. More than either Pirates of the Caribbean or Bad Boys II. Cripes, I'm not a eunuch, I'm a pussy.