All righty, then!
Last night, we discovered that neither of the disks we had in from Netflix actually worked in the DVD player of my computer. Whether this is DVD player fail, or DVD fail remains to be seen. Still, we were in the mood to watch a movie, dern it, so we went out onto the intertubes and streamed “My Man Godfrey” straight out of Netflx Central.
The streaming worked a treat; the movie, despite my deep and abiding adoration of William Powell — not so much. I don’t see why a perfectly sensible man ought to be stuck with an empty-headed screwball just because she loves him — but that’s probably just me. I think he’d done perfectly fine with Molly, if the plot demanded romantic closure, a point of which I am doubtful.
Today, I filled out my Worldcon panelist survey. Truly, I am made of energy and crunchy goodness. I also made rice to serve as the base for day-job lunches throughout the coming week and did a bit of work on “Intelligent Design.”
I tried mightily, and failed equally so, to design a t-shirt at Cafepress, which aggravates me much more than it’s probably worth, but enough to ask — if you sell t-shirts on the internet, and you don’t use Cafepress, what do you use?
For those who keep count, tomorrow’s Monday, and hereabouts the weatherbeans are calling for cold. Also, I have no window washer left in my car and I can’t get the hood open, though it reports that it’s unlocked. Tomorrow’s drive to the day-job will therefore be Fraught With Peril.
Note to self: Laugh at Peril.
Next on the list here is doing the dishes, which I shall undertake immediately upon saying g’night to y’all, and then a wee bite of lunch.
Progress on “Intelligent Design”
3,072 out of 10,000 words OR 30.72%
G’night.
I sell stuff on Cafepress and Zazzle. They each have their merits and each have a different type of audience in their marketplace. If you don’t care for Cafepress the Zazzle experience might be better for you. They have more product options and clothing variations for one.
_My Man Godfrey_ is a wonderful film, but it dates from 1936 which was the heart of the depression when empty-headed blonds were de rigeur in giving the typical American a night out to forget his or her troubles. My favorite star of the picture is Eugene Pallette, the little man with the deep, DEEP voice. The player that I disliked was Alan Mowbray.
Harvey