This weekend I watched Superbad twice. I feel I must share that I hadn't seen it yet, just on the off chance that this fact makes the double viewing more acceptable. The last time I doubled down was when we rented Knocked Up. I happen to agree with Katherine Heigl's assessment that the film was flawed when it came to the female characters, but...that scene in the Vegas hotel room where Paul Rudd is obsessing over the chairs and Seth Rogen is panicking: love it.
"There are five different types of chairs in this hotel room."
"Get em out of here, man. That's too many chairs for one room."
"The tall one's gawking at me and the short one's being very droll. "
"I don't like them."
"It's weird that chairs even exist when you're not sitting on them."
Anyway, before that movie, the last time I watched a film twice in one weekend it was 1987 (Teen Wolf Too. Let's keep this between us, shall we?)
In an attempt to balance the couch potato-ness of the weekend, I made a huge salad on Saturday and as soon as I brought it to the table, Smokey hopped up on a chair and tried to put his face into it. This cat likes cucumber apparently. He did once crawl into my lap to bite the edge off the pretzel stick I was eating, but salad? When we kicked him off the chair, he wandered around on the floor hoping we wouldn't notice that he was trolling for fallen garbanzo beans. We were not fooled.
"Smokey, that's very unattractive," Rob informed him, but Smokey, it turns out, is impervious to shame.
"That's something a dog would do," Rob tried. Smokey scoffed.
Assuming he was just very hungry, I brought him into the kitchen and gave him a delicious can of Fancy Feast. I have long maintained that Smokey is actually a person who was once turned into a cat, but there are certain moments that solidify this knowledge for me. Smokey approaching his food bowl was one of them. He took one look at it, stalked out of the kitchen, and headed back towards the salad bowl, like "Excuse me, I need tomatoes."
Jack is TWO!
10 years ago
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I was in San Diego last week interviewing my client's sales reps for 6 hours straight with no break and no food. Several hours in, my stomach was no longer fooled by Pacific time and demanded nutrients. I dragged myself to the vending machine and Lo - beckoning me from the second to bottom shelf was a tuna & crackers lunch kit that promised energy without spiking my blood sugar. I fed the machine two crisp dollar bills, pranced happily back to the interview room and eagerly cracked open the adorable little can of tuna to discover that it was, in fact, cat food. Looked like cat food. Smelled like cat food. All that was missing was a picture of a smiling cat on the label. There must have been some horrible mistake at the factory (or, more frighteningly, not...). Stifling a gag reflex, and then a more troubling urge to just go ahead and eat it anyway, I tossed it and instructed my stomach to continue digesting itself proper food could be obtained. Several hours later I gave up and had California Pizza Kitchen at the airport for dinner. Some days you just can't win.
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