I don't see the point of petty thievery, never have. What's the point of invading and hurting people's lives for such a small return? Rob a bank or something. Grow some guts. Have a reason to skulk away and feel like the piece of shit you are. Do something big enough that your victims, or your annoyed, have a chance of someday spitting in your face in a courtroom. Don't half-ass it. And stay the fuck out of my house.

There. I feel much better now. Nice glass of wine.

"Crossroads" isn't even worth talking about, I don't think. I find it anthropologically interesting that Britney dressed as a hooker whenever she had to perform. Hmmm... I also think of the movie as revisionist history. This is the Britney that Britney wishes existed. The noble motherless child, the good girl, who brings her friends--who are screwed up but only because of other people's viciousness--her best friends, who are also hot and can sing, along for the ride. Who meets the guy of her dreams and gets laid. Who gets discovered at an "audition" in L.A. two days after she gets there. Where I might add one of her screwed up friends is able to sing back-up even though she just got out of the hospital for an inadvertent abortion by way of falling downstairs. The worst thing, the biggest indignity, is perhaps that Kim Cattrall was cast as the bitchy, absent mother. That is just WRONG.

I've ridden in convertibles and your hair does not still look like that when you get out, girls.

Mr. Barzak updated his blog. Go read.

And George was wrong. It's not spring. Grrrrrrowl.