Here are some thoughts…

- I was complaining to some of my pals on messenger today that I was so incredibly bored, and then midway I realized that it wasn’t that there was a dearth of things for me to do, it was just that I was too lazy to do them. For instance, It’s taken me about 6 hours to actually muster enough energy to log on here and begin blogging, even though I had been thinking about doing so all morning and afternoon. It got me thinking: everyone and their pet camel know that I’m prone to extreme bouts of laziness (if you can call a lifetime a ’bout’), but am I at the point now where I’ve reached my own personal nadir of stasis! Is it possible that I cannot get any lazier than I am at this point in my life?

*Given the fact that after I wrote the above paragraph, I sprawled across my bed to rest for 10 minutes indicates that the answer is a distinct “yes!”*

- I was at Chace’s yesterday afternoon eating Xiao Yang Sheng Jian dumplings (小杨生煎), and as the fatty juiced dripped down my chin I noticed Chace sitting at the dinner table, quietly staring out the window. I asked him what he was thinking about, and he replied: “How to get rich.”

When I stare out the window I usually think about…well, nothing at all, really. And here my good friend was actually using his brain cells for something useful. Something that had value. And so I stared out the window with Chace, trying to see if we combined our brainpower, we’d come up with a sure way to get rich and live the lives that we all wanted for ourselves (him hunting turkeys in the back-woods of North Carolina with a bazooka, and me staring out the window, thinking about nothing in particular but dressed in one of many Armani suits and gold-encrusted slippers). And here’s what I came up with:

One of you dear readers, please invent something that is so awesome that we can sell tens of millions of them. Then give the idea to Chace and I and we will take care of the rest. Ready? Set? Go!

- On the eve of another NFL season that I can only observe from a distance (and a fantasy football season that I will surely lose because by the time I wake up for work on Monday, all the good players have already been picked up by Harry), I leech off someone else in cyberspace to pay tribute to the one man who made me decide to be a cursed Detroit Lions fan. Yes, the same Lions who have the worst record in the NFL the past five years, and who hire assistant coaches who like to go to Wendy’s in the nude.

- I was passing out in the taxi on my way back from Barbarossa last night when I suddenly thought of something from “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” I’m not the only one who thinks that this is one of the greatest films to come along in the past few years, and those of you who know me well know that I often pop in the DVD when I’m alone and questioning the sanity of the concept of men and women loving each other (which is why movies about men and their dogs are always so happy).

So while I’m drifting in and out of consciousness, I think back to the last memory that Joel has of Clementine, right before it gets wiped from his mind. She whispers to him “Meet me in Montauk.” And for those of you who paid attention from the very beginning, you know that they will. At the time, it seemed the perfect way to bring the viewer back to the start of the film, and makes the story together.

However, I realize that while Clementine saying this to Joel explains how Joel can wake up the next morning and have the strange impulse to go to Montauk, it doesn’t explain how Clementine can be there as well! Unless in her memory of their first meeting, Joel requests the same thing of her. And if that’s the case, the the entire premise of the film is based on the idea of destiny. Or unbelievable coincidence, which can often be interpreted as destiny.

I’m not a big believer of destiny, especially when it comes to people (i.e. the “we were destined to be together forever” drivel). Does this new discovery change how much I love the film. After thinking about it, probably not. Apparently, I’m a believer that when you love something or love someone, you love everything about them, including these types of gaping holes that tarnish one’s perception of perfection. Makes sense to me.

Ok, writing that just now felt like the most productive and substantial thing I’ve done all day.