Dining Tables and Car Explosions

Michael: You can't open someone else's mail. It's a federal offense.
Hunter: I can see it now: I'm on Death Row awaiting a lethal injection. This mass murderer who killed 48 babies and ate them asks me what I'm being executed for. I say, "Opening Ben's letter."
-Queer as Folk, Season Four

Weird weather this morning. During the ten mile drive from home to campus, I went through an assortment of overcast, sunny, and very foggy weather. Odd stuff. It rained yesterday for a few hours straight in the morning, took a break, and rained for a few hours more in the late afternoon/evening. For the most part, it wasn’t too heavy, which was fortunate since my folks and I went out to Marianne’s mother’s house to pick up a kitchen table and chairs. She wanted to sell me some other stuff, but screw that, I refuse to give her any money. The kitchen table and chairs were free, and now they’re sitting in my kitchen, in place of a card table and folding chairs.

Movie Review: Mad Max. Talk about an over-rated flick. Egad. Throughout the movie I kept having thoughts like: “Why is that important? Why do I care? What was the point of that? Why is everyone mumbling?” Oodles of pointless explosions and car/motorcycle chases combined with people acting stupidly – see the scene where the baddies come after Mel Gibson’s wife, so he grabs a gun and runs off, leaving her behind. Dumbass. Mad Max is ultimately like Predator – dumb as all hell, but fun to make fun of.