I'm in a shitty mood today. Everything I've started to write sucks donkey dicks. At least moreso than usual. Took the kids to see "Curious George" today. Feels like I just had two lollipops shoved up my nostrils. The kids seemed to love it but c'mon, it was like eating cotton candy with chocolate syrup on it, shoved in a funnel cake and then encased in a marshmallow Peep. And then shoved up my ass. And poor David Cross. The bad guy again. He's like two steps away from becoming the next Gilbert Gottfried. Five bucks the next movie he's in he'll be playing an evil sidekick parrot with an eyepatch.
I think it was a bad idea to start the day off by visiting the Estate Sale at the house down the street. About a month ago, the guy who lived there was found dead in his chair, watching TV. Well, he wasn't watching it when they found him. He had been watching it... before he died. Anyway, he used to be a professor at MSU but he became this raging alcoholic and basically just drank himself to death. I went over there once when a FedEx box was accidentally dropped off at his place. He answered the door and looked like he was about 78. Turns out he was in his mid-fifties. Bummer. He designed his house, though, and it looks kind of interesting from the outside. So I thought, hey, let's go check it out today. Bad idea. Depressing as fuck. It had been picked clean days ago but it just depressed the shit out of me. It smelled like 1972. Bleh.
And what the hell is an "Estate Sale." I've always imagined them as some hoity-toity setup with roped off rooms and auctioneers. This was basically, "Hey, who wants some dead guy's old TV Guides and laundry detergent. Half off everything!"
I've really gotta start throwing some shit out.