I know, I know: when you read this column, it usually opens up with me bitching or complaining about something. Well, let me save you the suspense and tell you now that this week’s content will be prefaced by a good ol’ round of complaining. And I know that ‘bitching’ and ‘complaining’ are synonyms – I’m just being cheeky.
This week, I snuck in a morning show of The Town with my dear ol’ dad. Seeing as this was, as I’ve said, a morning show. I figured we would run into a near empty theater. I mean, we’re not talking about Inception.
To my genuine surprise, this first showing of the day was packed. P-A-C-K-E-D, PACKED! And with old people! And just so that we’re on the same page, when I say ‘old people,’ I mean it looked like it was a nursing home field trip.

googled 'happy old people.'
So there we were, my pop and I, watching Don Draper kick some fucking ass when I start hearing a voice in my head. Except it wasn’t one of the usual six. No, this was an elderly female voice and she was very aptly warning me and the people around her when the movie was getting suspenseful by saying, “Uh-oh!” and “Watch out!” every time the music started to swell.
She also did a capable job of narrating everything that was going on onscreen.
So awesome. And that was my friday. Random note: watched Serenity for the first time and it was bloody fantastic.

This week in September, your favorite bloggers travel to the deep recesses of experience and write about cleaning belly buttons; the consequences of technology; and sex, Sesame Street-style. Blame Phil for that last one. I mean, really blame him. Read more...