i can't feel feelings

I'm trying to type this as quickly as possible, as I've recently eaten some pills (allergy/sinus pills to be exact) and I can literally feel the detached head/slow-thought/drowsiness overtaking me. Damn my susceptibility to Benedryll.

But i digress. We saw the new Bond flick last night and i was impressed to see they managed to blend classic, Birtish, Bond-esq shenanigans with the old, leathery, tattered American background story of the hard-ass chief that won't let his (or her) men get the job done the way they seem fit. All that damn chief cares about is the mayor's breathing down his (or her) neck and the damn press always seems to have the perfect photo of police brutality. (God dammit Bond, get out of my office; you're off the case.) It might be late to announce this now, but I'm not going to worry about spoiling it for anyone, because i figure we see Bond movies for the shiny colors and not so much the plot twists.

Also i should mention, there's no nudity but there is at least one vague reference to mutual masturbation, not to mention a real torture scene- And I'm not just talking about some dude tying Bond up over a laser-powered toaster oven and watching while the bread ever so slowly darkens.

(I'm having a hard time typing... fingers... feel so sluggish.)

In all, I learned three things from this movie. 1) Always back your car into a parking spot because when the shit jumps off you don't want to have to be turning your ass around. 2) No matter how many push-ups and sit-ups they do, the British will always look goofy. And 3) Should you choose to patron a theater that sells beer, plan on leaving the flick at least twice to empty your bladder.

Speaking of beer, I've been spending my days at the Wayne State Library working on my 50 page term paper, and happen to run into one of my classmates. Since it was Saturday and i was in comfort mode, I was wearing an old tattered MTU shirt, which said classmate happen to comment on. The conversation went something like this:

a: So what was it like up there?
b: i like to think of it as a shared traumatic experience
a: it is true what the say about the girls?
b: you'd be surprised what you can accomplish without the distraction of women (cries a little inside)
a: so i guess if you're a real techy, you should be able to drink us all under the table, right? (motioning haphazardly to himself, his project-partner, the homeless guy next to them and about 8 foreign dudes)
b: let's rock this

As I looked out upon the corpses in the library that day, their hearts slowly beating their last beats as blood in their veins was displaced by alcohol, I realized something: People are going to look at me as half god, half alcoholic, half gay for the rest of my life, all based on my college of undergrad. And that's a lot of halfs.

Of course, on the other hand, you have different fingers. Neither of which can feel my face.