So I’ve recently Tweeted that I had acquired the “short arm disease”, and I was just outfitted with my first pair of Progressive lenses. Today I am working at the computer for the first time with the new specs and it’s been kind of a loogy day. Just loogy; I don’t think it will be an urpy day. I have been doing a lot of head-bobbing, much like a Dippy Drinking Bird. Unfortunately, I do not have the advantage of being filled with ethanol.
The Hubster has been trying to take advantage of the head-bobbing; he’s been asking me questions like, “Will the Hubster get lucky tonight?” while I’ve been trying to focus on the knitting in my lap while trying to watch the movie Naked Evil. The movie was not naked, and there was only a modicum of evil unless you do truly believe in Haitian and Jamaican Witchcraft, in which case the movie was positively drooling with eeeeeee-vil.
There was a teeny tiny bit of naked in the movie Streets of Fire, which we watched during the week. And yes, I am talking about the one with Michael Pare’, Rick Moranis, Amy Madigan, and Willem DaFoe. Willem didn’t get naked, but he did wear black vinyl waders through a good portion of the movie, which was okay by me, but I was more delighted with the presence of Lee Ving, the frontman for the punk band FEAR, as Willem’s lackey. That, and the big fight at the end using railroad spike hammers. Good Lord.
I did honestly feel like I was “going nowhere slowly”, when I think I would have preferred to go ANYWHERE fast. There’s only so much fake south Philly-ish accent I can take in one sitting.
Erg. Loogy typing. It might turn into an urpy day after all. Ta.