In a time before Knight(s) were Dark and Batmen had Begun, we were treated with a cinematic gift known as the Matrix Regurgitation Trilogy. (You see, the studio execs asked the Wachowski Brothers, "Your first movie made money... can you regurgitate two more? All's fair as long as they start with the letter 'R'." And they did... the results: spectacular!)

So here we sit, blessed with three standard-definition Matrix movies (unless you consider the unfortunate souls who purchased an HD-DVD player "lucky" -- which I don't) and one actor[/actress] laying on our proverbial kitchen table, just as lifeless as John Ritter's career/life.

"You've made me laugh, you've made me mourn," you exclaim, dear reader, "but what was the point of all this?" A bullet-point list soon follows, though perhaps not as lengthy as you may typically enjoy. The following deaths are a result of the Matrix Regurgitation Trilogy:

1. Gloria Foster. "The Oracle." She was the only person in the movies who smoked. And now she's dead. Smoking = lifelessness. Don't smoke, you will die. Sure, the IMDB.COM innuhnets will tell you she died of Diabetes, but that's Matrixian for "Smoker's Lung".

2. Keanu Reeves's career. Should have stopped after "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure" -- no, more accurately after "Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey"... then lived off of those riches.

I'm on a quest to obtain cronies. You can try to look it up, but the definition may not match up with what I have in mind. (I just like the word.)

As a Cyrollan81 Cronie, are you willing to come to my house on an as-yet-to-determined date to play the LOST board game with me? I haven't tried it yet, but I know a lot about the show, so you might have to do a little homework in order to compete with me. First, I'd recommend starting with the first episode, and then follow that up with every other episode -- up to the current one. Basically that means you gotta watch around 70 hour-long episodes... and by reading this entry, you are signing a non-verbal contract to do so.

Saturday marked the sixth week of Liz and I going out. So I thought it was time review her performance. Here are a few points of improvement that I gave her:
- Speak less until spoken to
- Wear more expensive clothes
- Mute her cell phone when we're together

And a few points that she gave me:
- SHE drives the Mazda when we go out
- Simmer down a little bit with the domestic abuse
- "Hello? No, I'm not doing anything important. No, not yet. I think we've got a few more months to wait... neither can I! Sure, I'll ...

(At that point I agreed to a 15-minute recess.)

When her phone conversation was over, I just stated that if she worked on a few of the points we talked about earlier, I would take her to the Olive Garden 1.2 times as often, be 8% more likely to remember important dates, and focus more on my abs when at the gym.

We concluded the meeting with a firm handshake.

Please, just stop.

Trend over.

Red, Blue...the colours of the American Flag? F**k no! Red = Hellboy, Blue = Liz Sherman. It don't get more American than that. Well... maybe if the Hellboy DVD was served with an apple pie and an organic hot dog from Trader Joe's cut up on a plate served with ketchup for dipping.

Three people showed up: shApril, Bevy of Kevy, and the woman who sits at the right hand of God, Liz. (I play God in this -- and every -- scenario). Let's look at the math here: Hellboy in 1080p means 1920×1080, or 2,073,600 pixels total. Divided by four = 518,400 pixels per person. That's MORE resolution than one person gets watching the standard-definition DVD alone.

The only true travesties were 1) Louis didn't show up and 2) Josie didn't sleep in my bed that night. I pretty much assumed that Dave & Trace [Atkins] couldn't make it per to their attendance of a The Mommas and The Pappas cover band (see: Devildriver) show at Pop's. But in reality, the aforementioned jokers weren't American enough to attend the Hellboy screening. In fact, the only remaining people patriotic enough to attend include the following humans: Toby Keith. That is all.

In the end, would I call the evening a success? Of course. For I got to watch a great film that I've seen many times before, and in the end, that's all that really counts.

Plus Liz brought me the greatest gift ever given in the history of man[woman]kind: Stag beer. 48 ounces of glorious Stag. Mmmm... I can picture the taste now!