Last night/this morning (my sleep schedule is currently screwed up) I found myself in the mood for completely empty and worthless entertainment. I found a copy of X-Men II I had no idea that I owned, and barely any memory of watching. I must have bought it over a year ago and watched it completely cranked. Well, thank God for blackouts, because I just thoroughly enjoyed watching it for the first/second time.

In other news of the cranked, a friend who I mentioned a couple of weeks ago has gotten herself into quite a pickle with her self pickling. As I complained before, he had called me in the middle of the night about two degrees from rock bottom, feeling she had lost all control, and then kept me up until six in the morning listening to her make excuses for herself. Apparently, last week she fucked up in the worst possible way. The first good news is that nobody was hurt. The second good news is that her ass got caught, and even if Johnny Cochran comes down from heaven and defends her in iambic pentameter, no judge is going to let her drive for a long long time. Of course, I’m sure she doesn’t think that’s good news, but it is; for all the obvious reasons, and her necessary rock-bottomage. That Texan Rhode Scholar redneck was right, nothing left to loose can really be liberating.

She had called me the next day to “talk” about it at precisely the time she knew I couldn’t talk. I told her I’d call back, I did and left a message. She called me the next day, AGAIN at precisely the time she knew I couldn’t talk, to which I called and AGAIN left a message. That was four days ago. I suspect she is on the mother of all benders right now. Which is aces. I am not intervening. Her ass needs to slam onto the floor. It’s her cross and her fight, which thankfully, she’ll be battling without tons of moving steel or a license.

Oh yeah, and her memory of the whole ordeal? An ordeal, mind you, where she was not hurt at all.

None. Nada. Zero recall.

Well, thank God for blackouts.