Whatcha Gonna Do With All That Junk?

It's free all-you-can-dispose-of trash day tomorrow. So, last night, a friend of mine and I (actually, he is the occupant of the spare room in the basement) had fun smashing up the bar that had been left down there by the previous residents. (Think 1974-era Esquire advertisement prop.) That, plus the Christmas Tree that we left in the backyard, plus a bag of yard waste, and some other stuff went out on the curb. (Last week I took the blade to my chainsaw in to have it sharpened, but it's not ready yet. So, I chopped down some of the last remaining nuisance trees with a handsaw fueled by nothing but my own brute strength.) All the neighbors have all their shit piled up outside too... kind of looks like a neighborhood full of Sanfords & Sons.

We watched Burden of Dreams today, along with the excellent short Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe. Herzog is far out. So is Errol Morris, without whom there would have been no WHEHS. I think I'm going to get The ♥G♥ a bunch of his movies to watch in the next couple of weeks; she helped her friend take her (the friend's) sick puppy to the vet this morning, so if we start with Gates of Heaven, we just won't tell her friend what it's about. (GoH = One of Roger Ebert's 10 favorite movies ever: When I [Ebert] put it on my list of the 10 greatest films ever made, I was not joking; this 85-minute film about pet cemeteries has given me more to think about over the past 20 years than most of the other films I've seen.)

I know I got a lot of stuff done around the homestead this weekend, but looking around, I see that the stacks of stuff that I had planned on going through are still sitting there in their pristine stackedness. Meh. I'm going through a bunch of newspapers and magazines I've been meaning to read for a while. And when I say a bunch, I mean... well... Lots of nice storage space open in the basement now that we got rid of that bar.

The lovely Diablo Cody shares her experiences as a guest on David Letterman the other night. Excerpt: When we arrived at the back entrance, the paparazzi were lined up for Denzel. I am not Denzel, but I thought maybe Fiery Sarah could be Denzel, so I tossed my coat over her head and marched her in as if she were a reclusive A-lister. A handful of flashbulbs exploded. This seemed hilarious at the time.

LBNL, here's the Am I Geeky Enough to Be a Librarian? quiz. I scored 16/20.