C'est Non Un Blog

OK, so far I’m seeing 15 films, with the possibility of 3 more if Katharine is cool with switching days off with me. More info soon to come.

The Seattle International Film Festival is coming to town, which makes me ask one question:

How much film festival is TOO much film festival?

I’m thinking of taking time off from work, if that gives you any idea where my head is at right now.

Am I the only one that thinks that the Above the Influence commercials could have only been made by someone ON the influence?

The My Name Is Earl finale was fantastic. I’m totally coming back next season for more Earl.

In less fun news, I got boned today at the Mazda dealership in the U-District. First they told me that my oil filter cap was cracked, which is something that will happen when you don’t use their special tool to take it off. Thing is, the only other people to touch that cap? My old Mazda dealership. Something makes me think they didn’t fuck it up.

So I have to get a new cap. And I can’t drive my car without said cap. So they give me a loaner, which is a piece of shit that hasn’t been cleaned in a about a year. I have to go into work for a pointless conference call, so I go do that, then I go to see Spiderman 3. I get my ticket, sit down, and then realize that I don’t have my house keys. So I get up, get my refund, because I know that I will never get back to the dealership before they close because Spidey 3 is a damn long movie.

So I go back up. The cap was supposed to be there at one. It just got there at 2:30. Apparently, it takes an hour to put a cap on. A CAP!!! What kind of fucking cap takes an hour to put on?

So I walk around. I get back, get my car. I look at the invoice, and the cap costs more than what I was told it would cost. I’m told the extra cost is for the filter they put in. I don’t ever remember being charged for a filter before. I could be wrong, I don’t pay much attention, but I don’t remember that.

But fine. I go back into Seattle. See me some Spidey. As I’m pulling out I see a flier on my windshield. I watch it flap in the breeze. Then I hear a funny noise. That slowly gets louder. I think maybe something is wrong with my tires (they were supposedly rotated). LOUDER. I finally pull over outside of my place and look at the tires. They’re all fine.

Then I look under the car. My engine mud guard HAS FALLEN OFF OF THE CAR. What the FUCK???

I am so pissed off. If I don’t get my money back for this fiasco I’m going to blow a gasket.

The following headline just appeared on my web browser:

Bush told war is hurting GOP

Wait, someone is just telling him that now? What about everyone that was saying that, like, five years ago???

There is this new commercial on, where a carrot tries to convince a mom that he can be in Juicy Juice. They then show a bunch of kids giving the Juicy Juice a thumbs up, because apparently they don’t know they are drinking yucky vegetable juice. Then the creepy part comes. A little girl walks right up to the camera, raises her empty glass, and gleefully asks:

“More research, please!”

There is just something so inherently wrong about this that I can’t get the burned image out of my mind.

I am sober enough to know that drunk dialing on the West Coast is a bad idea. You’re welcome.

I keep trying to bite my nails, but I don’t bite them anymore, so it’s a weird sensation of biting but not biting.