A Hitchhiker's Guide To My Sunday Night

I just got back from watching the Patriot's lose at Luke Warm's house. Ultimately, the outcome of the game has no bearing on my life in any way remotely palpable, yet I was left with a dour outlook for some time after the game. Until, of course, I realized how silly I was being. I live in the same geographic area where they play; that's my only connection to the team. I'm not going to waste one more minute feeling crummy about their loss, because I know for a fact they're not going to feel bad when I suffer a loss of some sort, though it would be nice if they would; I'm starving for attention.

I met a dog today that was a real asshole. Spira and I were on our way to True Grounds to grab some coffee and scones when we came upon a woman with two dogs. One of them, the asshole, looked like a dalmation/lab hybrid, and who cares about the other one since it has no bearing on my tale (or tail. Get it? hahahahaha). Alright, if you must know, it lappeared to be a grayish labrador sort of beast and not an asshole. Satisfied? Okay, so we're walking by the trio and I make eye contact with the dalmation mix, and the jerk freaks out and lunges at me. Fortunately, it's owner had a firm grip on the leash because otherwise, there would have been a brawl.

My pride was a little shaken by the incident, I have to admit, because I'd gotten it into my head that because of my pure heart, animals are drawn to me. Not too shaken, though, because that dog had a bad attitude and it had nothing to do with me. It made me think of Serena, my beautiful husky/lab mix from a few years ago; the girl I was forced to give up because of her explosive temper. Ah, but she was a tender lass and so sweet with me and most of my friends. Sometimes I feel like I failed her, but when I really think about it I realize that because of her disposition, I'd have to give her up eventually. Perhaps in a different post I'll go into more detail about her. Boy, do I miss her.

I borrowed Bob TV's dvd of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy yesterday to see what all the fuss was about, or more to the point, to see whether, at this time in my life, it clicked with me. Not so much the movie, but the whole mystique that surrounds the book that it was based on. When I worked in a book store years ago, various coworker's of mine were infatuated with the book and ceaselessly badgered me about reading it. A few times, while on break, I'd leaf through the it, and I found some of it to be vaguely amusing, some of it clever, but I couldn't muster anything more than a passing interest. I really tried to get into it, especially when people around me were heralding it as a masterpiece, but it wasn't for me. My co-worker's never forgave my obtuseness. So, there I was yesterday, prepared to give Douglas Adam's masterpiece another shot, albeit in a different medium, and once again it's allure was lost on me. Hey, at least I gave it a shot.

I've come to realize that the Douglas Adam's devotees are much like Monty Python devotees. I once dated a girl who was obsessed with The Holy Grail. When she found out I wasn't masturbating over it's greatness on an hourly basis, she almost dumped me. It would have benefited me if she would have, because too often I'd be sandwiched between her and her friend on the couch, watching the damned film while listening to the two of them mimic the dialogue in stereo. At the time, I thought their behavior was excessive and probably rare, until I met other Holy Grail adherents. I'm curious to know whether Douglas Adam's fans are into Monty Python and vice versa. I'm guessing yes, but am only basing it on the fact that the humor in both is decidedly British and decidedly corny. However, I enjoy Monty Python much more than Douglas Adam's. Shouldn't that account for something? Maybe, but I'm way too tired to continue with this. I'm going to put Le Samorai in the dvd player and watch something I actually enjoy.