I love it when they come from behind

I don't like sports, but I love sports movies. I think it's because the games or matches or whatever are often cut down to montages, or they fade in and out to the exciting parts. Hockey is probably my least favorite sport to watch, but Miracle (the movie about the 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team) is fucking fly. Check it out if you haven't seen it. It'll warm your heart.

Here is a list of some of my favorite sports movies, in no particular order:

Miracle
Remember the Titans
The Mighty Ducks (the sequels were pretty dumb, but Joshua Jackson is hot by the 3rd one)
Wimbledon
Angels in the Outfield
Varsity Blues
Bring it On (yes, competitive cheerleading counts)
Drumline (Marching Band isn't a sport, but it's the same basic plot outline)

Don't worry; I'll update the list as I think of more. If you have any favorite sports movies, please leave a comment!

Doomed to be a Hetero

Earlier today, I was bitching about some asshole guy, and a co-worker suggested that I just become a lesbian. But my really hot female friend tried to make out with me on New Year's last year, and I had no desire to comply. So I guess that's out.

Oh, Canada

My new favorite show is Slings & Arrows. I watch it illegally online. It's Canadian. I'd tell you what it's about, but I don't feel well, so you can just Google it, you lazy fuck.

Ode to Marlboro Lights (2)

I almost called in sick to work yesterday. I woke up and felt like I had been hit by a truck. As I was debating wasting my Floating Holiday, I reached for my pack of cigarettes. I smoked one, and, magically, was well enough to get out of bed and drag my ass to work. Thanks, Marlboro! Now I can use my vacation day for fun!

And Billy Bob Thornton wasn't half bad either!

I don't care for Bruce Willis' politics, but he was fucking fierce in Armaggedon.

This doesn't mean I recommend it

You know what? I looked directly at an eclipse once when I was 11, and I'm fine.

Anger Management

A friend of mine is always telling me that I have a lot of anger. Last night, most of it was directed at my bartender. I started thinking about it, and I'm working on a theory. I think that, as the years go by, every time I get mad at a man, he's also getting some of the residual anger leftover from men in my past. So basically, each guy is getting more anger than the one that that came before.

I fear that if I keep getting dicked over, in ten years, a guy I like will step on my foot and I'll snap his neck.