TWO SENTENCES

Don't you hate it when you sit down on a Sunday afternoon to watch a movie that you expect to be crafted and packaged for entertainment, but instead it kicks you in your emotional crotch and leaves your limbs feeling like all the bones and muscles have been replaced by tiny lead ball bearings, like you are some kind of human beanie baby flopping about on the futon and you can't get up even though you need to return the video and go grocery shopping, "ah, but no amount of bread or rice," you lament with your head inches from the floor "can soak up the sorrows of the human spirit," and you end that exclamation with a long audible sigh that slowly morphs into one of those strange pixilated throaty sounds that turns into its own game, its own entertainment, but ultimately upsets the cat and makes her leave the room?

I do.