Home Alone...

... you ever have a true moment of inspiration?... or, maybe true boredom?... I just did... what made me have this sudden calling?.... the mundane, people.... ironing.... I have always hated it... sure, I've often coerced unfortunates to do it for me... but, no one ever manages to get my creases right... and, we've gotsta have our creases.... so, I am cursed for the rest of my living days to press my own damn shirts.... life's a real bitch sometimes....

... anyway, to the point.... the other day, I needed a shirt to wear while I was carshopping... my Hippies Smell tee-shirt just wouldn't have created the right look.... after all, who wants to show up at the dealership looking like a 31 year old guy wearing a tee-shirt.. so, I decided I would press a few button-ups...... amongst the pile of stuff I decided to iron, I found a treasure.. my old formal evening shirt... you know, the kind normally worn with a tuxedo or kilt.... heh... what did I do?.... I ironed the bastard...

... and now, here I sit... tuxedo clad.... searching through the DVD collection for something to entertain myself with... what did I find, gentle ones?.... well, two, actually.... Casablanca, and Dr. No... both seem suitable fodder.... I watched Bogie and Bergman a few weeks ago.. but, perhaps then I was being mean in my initial commentary... maybe my jealous side was showing.... maybe tonight I will see it differently, and it would be all touchingl.... but, as for the second movie of the night.... well, who could miss a chance to gaze upon Ursula, eh?.. yeah, I thought so... and, maybe a Martini thrown in for good measure...

... whatever the case, I am damn determined to enjoy myself this evening... the tux has been draped suitably over my bones.. the Macintosh cufflinks have been shined, and are fixed on the sleeve.. and, as I write this, I am drinking Scotch directly from the bottle.... after all, I'm planning on watching Casablanca first... the thoughts of drinking cocktails Bond.. James friggin Bond style.. well, it has a certain appeal.. but, by the time Connery comes onto the screen, I don't feel that what I'm drinking, or my attire will add much to the situation..

... after all, Honey Ryder is what we're waiting on.. right?.. and, before you know it, even SHE will have come and gone... Ilsa will have cried... Rick will have murdered.... and, Victor will have flown the coop... and, Honey will still be a 68 year old Grandmother.... damn, why do I even bother.. I'm depressing the hell out of myself... still, I must give it a shot... after all, I AM all dressed up.....