*le sigh*

[scarylullabiez]

Brokeback Moutnain is not playing anywhere in East County. Normally I would not be sursrised by this. In fact, I was preparing myself for the very real possibility that I would have to leave San Diego entirely an go to LA to see it. But then I saw a big gigantic poster for it at the theater right by my house, and then I saw a thing for it on TV Guide channel (The TV was muted, so maybe they were condemning everyone associated with the movie, I dunno, and in retrospect I realize how foolish it was for me to take this as a good sign without un-muting.) right out where God and all His hillbillies could see it, and I allowed my hopes to rise up, like so many migrating butterflies. And now that movie schedules have been posted, it appears that in order to see Brokeback Mountain, I'm going to have to go to La Jolla. And I'll say it again. La. Jolla. Do you have any idea what's in La Jolla? I'll give you hint: If I had a choice between working a customer service job in La Jolla or being ass-raped with a saguaro cactus before every meal for the rest of my natural life, I would take the ass-cactus. That's right, rich people live in La Jolla. The really, really horrible kind of rich people. Everytime I or someone I know goes to La Jolla, they come back with some terrible story about the abuse they suffered there. Quite a few people I am acquainted with (I can't be good friends with any of them b/c they are far too embittered to enjoy life at all, not that I blame them) work in La Jolla despite long commutes, because no one who actually lives in La Jolla would ever dirty their hands with anything as low as work. So that's my whine for the day. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go double check my kevlar (snipers trained to shoot anyone they see wearing something from a thrift store) and gas mask (SUV fumes). Ta.