An illness.

First of all I would like to say that I am sick. I have a cold, and a sinus infection, and the flu, and the ebola virus, and the chicken pox. Well not ebola or the chicken pox but you get the idea.

There's something so satisfying to me about being sick. As much as it sucks, there's a part of me that loves basking in my own vile body of unhealth and unrest. It feels like yeah, my body's at it's limit, but now it's cleansing itself and I will be as good as new when I'm better.

My disgusting personal oddities aside, I would like to share with you today's word.

hobbledehoy
an awkward, gawky young fellow.

Well. Looks like Michael Cera's got his own little entry in the dictionary.
Also, please watch this:


I'm playing Modest Mouse in my room. Without a doubt, they are the band I listen to the most. They never get old. And I think that in addition to their music AND lyrics being utterly ILL (cough, cough) I happened to find this band at the right time in my life. I thought I wanted to talk about this but I am realizing that I do not have the energy.

I don't feel good, I'm going to bed.

CURRENTLY READING: Sunday's New York Times, DVD review section by Dave Kehr
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Breakthrough by Modest Mouse (This Is A Long Drive For Someone With Nothing To Think About)
CURRENTLY WATCHING: The Third Man (1949, dir. Carol Reed)