Here I sit, eating mini Snickers, and drinking berry fruit punch ("all natural.") This may just be the pause that refreshes, but I can't be sure about that. I just spent an hour and a half watching all of the bonus features on the Clash "Westway to the World" DVD. Even though I love The Clash ("The Only Band That Matters") I don't think I have the stamina to watch another 90 minutes of the actual documentary. I have the DVD on loan from a co-worker, but I gave him my copy of "Shaun of the Dead" to watch, so we're even.
I still have "Crazy Heart" at home from Netflix. It's going on three months now, and I haven't quite been in the mood to watch a formulaic movie about a country singer, battling personal demons and drink, and managing to make an emotional comeback at the end. I want to see Jeff Bridges' performance, and I won't avert my eyes when Maggie Gyllenhaal is on screen.
Besides pausing for mini Snickers, and writing a trivial blog post, I'm thinking of reading for another half hour or so, before turning in. I have officially started to reading Matthew Sharpe's new novel You Were Wrong. I have not quite been able to get into the story yet, but I'm barely thirty pages in. It may be that I still have the taste of zombies in my mouth from the last two books that I read. I would like to finish You Were Wrong before I leave for Portland on Sunday, so that I have the pleasure of picking something specifically to read on vacation. A vacation read, so to speak, but not in the James Patterson mold. More in the mold of a Brian Evenson, or Boris Vian. Those are a couple of the writers I'm interested in these days.