Leatherhead

Thoughts for the (yester)day:

The more I think about it, the more I want a girl in glittering armor, grabbing men by their face grills and screaming them into a boiling battlelust, shoving them into the front lines as she looks on, grinning in dark appreciation. I don't want a fighter, I want a leader.

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How could the "highest form of human achievement" possibly be so fucking boring?

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Possible names for my kids: Willy, Random, King, Red, Atticus... and the new addition... Cid.

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I am secretly delighted when the snobbish girl in class drops all her books on the ground while trying to sit down in a haughty, holier-smarter-prettier-than-thou-art way. Why it's secret, I still haven't reckoned.

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Hanged or Kranged? In light of the possibility of a drawn-out death being slowly eaten by a hand-held, psuedo-anthropomorphic brain or beaten savagely by his burly, lumbering, android transport, I choose the relatively pleasant option of public lynching.

Spike Jonze doth make unto himself some raucous videos.