Ultimate Spider-Man, that is. Yes, after great resistance, I have fallen once again under the spell of Brian Michael Bendis. I mean, I dig on what Straczinski did with Amazing Spider-Man during the war and all, but I would never read that book full time. Ultimate, on the other hand, is yet another pithy example of my jumping onto something really great, right before it's about to end. Oh well. There's trades for that.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man fever is thick in the air these days. It's even got me excited. Well, the toys have me excited. Toys are innocent, they don't know anything about shitty writing or cartoony visual effects. But the movie? Fuck it, fuck it hard. I get a naughty smirk every time I see Tobey's big dumb face on a billboard the size of a tenement house: I shall resist you, Tobey Maguire. You have no hold on me.

Admittedly, there is exactly one person in the world who can get me to go see Spider-Man 3. And what a treat that would be. But I'm holding low odds on that one.

Check out the Department of Mysteries rough riders!

Too bad IMAX-3D sucks so many heavy, pendulous balls; Prisoner of Azkaban in IMAX was fucking spectacular, but I can't have another Superman Returns on my conscience. I will have to settle for seeing HP5 the old-fashioned way.

I treated myself to a Coca Cola today! Yes I did.