Holding 3 jobs at the moment under one organization. And fuck it, I gained 3 kilos. 1 kilo per job. Multi-tasking should come with a calorie breakdown. Fat from sugar. Fat from stress.
Constantine was okay, but I agree with dododawg, it's oderless shit. I want my movies disturbingly stinky or cloyingly sweet. Gym clothes sour. Dark alley piss-pungent. I would say that Finding Neverland smelled like cotton candy, pink popcorn, and petrol; Closer like sour cigarettes and melting electronic.
I can't get this guy out of my head. Ice. Is what they call him. And he's very trained at making me feel inadequate. Met him at one of the high school get-togethers, a friend of a friend. Pale and pogi and plirty. He's very good at ignoring me in the first few minutes (or hours) of drinking when the first tagay goes around. And I watch him, waiting for eye contact. Until I get bored, or drunk, and then we finally talk, and his eyes seem to sparkle, and I'm blabbering like an idiot so I just stare at his fingernails. He has stubby fingers.
Weird, though. His real name is Abner. Another Abner. Just my luck to meet 2 Abners (both cute --- the luck factor) in a year when I've never met any Abners in the past 30 years.
At the end of the day, or the break of dawn, drinking is just a little more fun with cute guys around.