September 14th, 2004

little blue dog

dirty sex machine

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I never keep my receipts. Since I have a terrible memory, this presents somewhat of a challenge when I try to reconcile my spending habits with my budget by reviewing my bank statement.

For example, a transaction in the amount of $14.20 was posted to my account yesterday, to "SUPERSTAR JAMES." I have no clue what this is about. I haven't purchased any discounted tickets to see Mr. Brown or Mr. Taylor (and Rick is dead), I patronize no businesses of this name, all my online porn is billed to my discover card (it pays to discover!) ... I'm mystified.

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I watched DIRTY PRETTY THINGS last night. Apart from Audrey Tautou's terrible accent, it was a really well-acted and well-written movie.

In my favorite scene, a pathologist waxes philosophical over a Chinese John Doe:

"I cut off his buttons so his spirit can escape. I'm sewing up his pockets so he won't carry his bad luck with him to the next world. If he was an atheist, I'm ruining a perfectly good suit no one will ever see again -- but if he's a Buddhist I'm sending him to eternal paradise, for the price of a bit of thread."

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Yesterday I finished a draft of a letter to a client, which is about 30 pages long. I really can't believe it takes that much text to say "I don't think you infringe this patent." At least it has pictures.

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