Hello, friend. How does this sacred evening find you? You look good. If you come over here, if you sit on my lap, I'll tell you a little secret. If you put your breath on my ear, I'll make known to you things that are hidden beneath the shifting, black silks of the mind and eternity. Draw close to me and I will tell you . . .
It's a mad, mad, mad, mad, madmadmadmad, mad world.
No, I've never seen It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, but it's gonna be on TCM on Friday and, as seems to be the wonderful norm on TCM, it'll be without commercials and it'll be completely unedited.
I'm not so sure it interests me enough to watch it. I only mention it because it's title speaks the truth. It is a mad, mad, mad, mad world.
I'm troubled. I'm dreading a couple of things right now. I guess top of the list is the fact that I still need to get car insurance. And that just sucks. I never really wanted a car to begin with. All I ever use it for is goofing off. I could do with a lot less of that. Aw, but what am I saying. That's mad talking . . .
What do I want most right now?
As Agent Cooper once said, I wish I was making love to a beautiful woman for whom I had genuine affection.
I'm currently recording a movie starring Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Shirley McLaine that I've never seen before. I think I'm just recording it because I've suddenly become wildly excited about TCM's generosity with their movies.
Wednesday looks like it'll bring in quite a haul; Citizen Kane, Mark of Zorro, Stagecoach, and The Adventures of Robin Hood. I think I'll probably try to get all of them on tape. And I probably won't have time to watch any of them.
I am becoming an impulsive collector of movies, huh . . .
Hmm. Wait a minute . . . what happened to my apple juice . . . ?