‘Twas a lovely weekend. The air was clear, the birds chirping and everything felt calm for the first time since this stupid war started (in my head, that is). So what gave? My radiator in my car. Cracked. Smoking car on the 405 at 2am. Thinking ‘someone shoot me’ while listening to The Blood Bros. Hence I didn’t make it to the protest at CNN Hollywood or any of that lovely stuff.
I’m still reading The Brothers Karamazov and forgot how funny Dostoevsky is at times. True some of his stuff is absolutely depressing, but there are plenty of opportunities for laughter.
PS Adrien Brody’s fingers in The Pianist are very sexy.