Everyone - literally everyone - is getting married. When did that happen and why wasn't I informed. I'm going to have to put a wedding-spending-related cap on 2010 or I will not be able to make rent. Gifts for prospective brides and grooms include blank VHS tapes, fishing tackle, and straws from McDonalds.

The people I don't really like get the You are a Douche cards. Now, I don't like "douche." Don't like it as an insult for all the obvious reasons; don't like it as a feminine product for all the other obvious reasons. But I do like simple black-and-white cards that say it as it is. Along similar lines, and I think it's largely all the Irvine Welsh currently in my life, the word "twat" as an insult amuses the fuck out of me right now. Twat is a bizarrely spectacular word all of a sudden. If it didn't mean vagina I'd be using it derrogatorially on a daily basis. But it does so I don't. I don't want to inadvertently compliment the jerks in my life by analogizing them with the wondrous.

I'm really quite glad that so many people are having Edgar Wright and/or Kevin Smith related fun in Toronto these days. Glad by way of HATE.

To cap off my morning, Christian Bale fucking apologizes over here, which sorta takes the luster off the whole thing, at least until someone dance-remixes it ("because she is CRAZY").