Guy gets on a plane and finds himself seated next to a cute blonde. He immediately turns to her and makes his move. “You know,” he says, “I’ve heard that flights will go quicker if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger. So let’s talk.”
The blonde, who had just opened her book, closes it slowly and says to the guy, “What would you like to discuss?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” says the guy. “How about nuclear power?”
“OK,” says the blonde. “That could be an interesting topic. But let me ask you a question first:
A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff–grass. Yet the deer excretes little pellets, the cow turns out a flat patty, and the horse produces muffins of dried poop. Why do you suppose that is?”
The guy is dumbfounded. Finally he replies, “I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“So tell me,” says the blonde, “How is it that you feel qualified to discuss nuclear power when you don’t know shit?”
B.U. (butterfly update)
From a random sample of google hits for ‘Butterfly Effect Director’s Cut,’ I’ve decided I saw the superior version of the movie.
It’s still bugging me, because my brain keeps coming up with new connections and interpretations.
Silly brain.
This one makes NO sense (the chaos entry)
I think I need to just give up. I can’t figure myself out anymore. I’m blaming this entry on watching The Butterfly Effect, but I know deep down that is not why I’m in such a funk.
BTW, I watched the director’s cut, and due to the way Netflix works, I can’t watch the regular (theatrical) version. So I don’t know if the movie I saw was more or less of a psycho freak out than the theatrical version. If somebody wants to e-mail me, say, how it ends at the theater that would be great. Otherwise I’ll just wonder.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. I’m in a funk. And I don’t know why.
(was that on Saturday Night Live?)
Shit.
Okay, here’s what doesn’t make sense:
The last six months have been much improved over say the 12 or 18 before that. Part of this is thanks to our marriage counselor. Didn’t know I had a marriage counselor? Well, yeah, I do. Or did. She’s leaving us. Dammit. Yeah, like it’s personal or something. She’s leaving town, and won’t tell us where she’s going. One huge clue that I have a marriage counselor is that — (badum bum) I’m still married. Yeah, that sounds awfully dramatic, and I’m blaming it on the Butterfly Effect that I’m even writing this shit, but I really think it was getting close. Eighteen years together is one thing, but the last couple? Not so great.
So, gee, if things have improved so much, why am I so glum? HellifIknow. Probably would make a nice book. Okay, a not so nice book.
(I’m not drunk. I swear. I’m just tired, but I can’t sleep)
What else. Oh, yeah, our adoption is final. My son if thriving at his alternate school. He’s loving the attention. I think we have our meds figured out, maybe. We have a referral to a testing center that does comprehensive testing for attention problems and learning disabilities, so maybe we can do that this summer.
Me? Still in a funk.
(warning: this entry may self destruct at any time)
It’s gonna be ninety degrees here tomorrow. Again. We have a family swim pass, so we can go visit the pool any time we want. Yay.
This is killing me wondering if they changed the ending on the movie. I’m gonna have to go figure it out. The movie was disturbing, and not just because Ashton Kutcher can act (and he’s sleeping with Demi, who’s old enough to be my girlfriend). But because of the whole chaos theory thing that I can’t quite wrap my mind around. I mean, I can, but I can’t, because it goes different directions. Kinda like this entry, I guess.
Chaos entry. Ha! I slay me. I think I’ll add that up top.
So I’m a fucking ingrate, I think, for not being able to appreciate the good that I have. And I have it pretty damn good. I think. It’s the believing that seems to be causing me trouble.