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chair, apartment

go to hell with me

yesterday: work, picked up new table. the guy at area51 wasn't especially good at fitting the boxes into Chris's car, but we were able to override his lack of three-dimensional spatial intelligence. I started assembling (incorrectly), went to the pub quiz (and lost), and returned to finish the job with assistance from Joe & Chris (post-drinking).

today: worked at home, went to the IMA, met Carole, Atri, Carolyn, and Jon at 611 Supreme for pre-movie crepes. I'm sure that there are drugs that would make the experience of watching Tamala 2010: Punk Cat in Space more enjoyable, but they were not available to me at the time of the screening. And, it's likely that those hypothetical drugs would make the experience of watching the growth of grass enjoyable; so why not save the money for more drugs?

I expected hyperkinetic wierdness, but the movie was really slow with a sort of Crying of Lot 49 conspiracy plot and occasional Matrix undertones, which made it incredibly boring. No film festival would be complete without a decent proportion of bad movies.

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