no time for love, dr. jones

been trying out some extra cardio at the gym the past few days, to see if it could help with the stultifying depression. all it's done has been to help me focus more clearly on the profoundly unhappy state of my life.

if i had the money, i'd take a long, soul-searching vacation. like one of those movies where the sad man finds redemption through his journey. of course, in my movie, the guy would probably end up hanging himself in some seedy Vegas motel room. what happens in Vegas, rots in Vegas.

speaking of ROTS, the final Star Wars episode launches into theaters this week. now, i wasn't the hugest Star Wars fan growing up (i was more of an Indiana Jones kid, coz of that adorable fucking Short Round), but my affection for it grew when i went to film school -- where Star Wars is a kind of de facto religion bonding everyone. (except for the snobs.) we talked about the "rumored" prequels throughout our college years. it was exciting to imagine.

of course, to be generous, the prequels have been a bit disappointing. but i've read some very positive buzz about this final one.

unfortunately, i won't be see it opening day. because i am going camping.

malice highload is going camping.

in nature.

mother nature.

the pine barrens, to be precise.

with MeowKing, Burn'o, Sara, and someone who goes by the alias "Bucky".

on the weekend Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith opens.

sometimes, life is not what you expect it to be...