A bland day at work; I lack all motivation at the moment. (I say 'at the moment' as though I thought it were ever likely to change.) The best I can say for it is that all the responsible grown-ups were out of the office, so there was no-one to bother us. Which also meant that I could play music instead of having to sit in stony silence. Back to normal next week. Sadly.
Filled in the time between dinner, which I decided could come from the local Chinese tonight, thank you very much, and NCIS, which I am not sure why I am still watching (curse you, Mark Harmon, you and your silver-haired charms), with The Darwin Awards, which has been sitting beside the TV for about three weeks now - that's how thrilled I was at the prospect of watching it. I only rented it in the first place because weeJosh has a cameo role in it and, love weeJosh as I do, I was rather dreading what he might be doing in it. It promised to be squicky and/or embarrassing. As it turned out, the film was, and not funny either (I think it was meant to be) - or only a very little, in parts - but weeJosh's tiny, tiny, tiny role was not: he cropped up right at the end, playing a paramedic and wearing, apparently, his own clothes - I'm pretty sure I recognised the little woolly hat. (Poss MamaWeeJosh was scared by Mike Nesmith in her dewy girlhood?) I had actually meant to watch it on the pooter so as to get screencaps, but my fked up DVD drive wouldn't play it - it played a few seconds of trailer, and then decided that it couldn't detect a disc. Annoying; there may only have been a few seconds of Joshness, but he was looking awfully cute, hat notwithstanding. What he was doing in the movie is a mystery - possibly he just wandered on the set one day and they decided to use him - but, really, who cares? WeeJosh is weeJosh, and not to be sneezed at. For one thing, that would be very unhygienic.
I am thinking of spending the weekend in bed. The house is filthy, but, hell, there's no-one to see it, and besides, who cares?
