Listening to: “Fuck, Was I” – Jenny Owens Young

So in the front entrance of my building, one of the faux-marble stairs has had a crack in it for at least half a year. This morning when I took my dog out, I saw a handyman measuring it.

Tonight I get back from work, and the stair has been covered with a slab of wood that is, get this, duct taped on. It seriously made my day. Classic.

When I was a kid, I thought it was called “duck tape.” I still kind of think it should be. Those ducks need to be restrained before they…eat all the good crumbs.

I didn’t catch the Oscars last night, partly because I’ve only seen a handful of the nominated films, and partly because I think awards shows are a load of ass. But I did YouTube Diablo Cody’s acceptance speech for Best Original Screenplay (cause I luvs me the Juno). She looked so delightfully out of place, with her crazy dress and giant tattoo and asymmetrical hair. It was all about her battle cry: “This is for the writers!”

I want to be her someday. Now if I could just finish a screenplay. Silliest thing of all–Cody started her career as a blogger. O brave new world, that has such people in it!

PS: Did anyone else think Harrison Ford was on some mad tranquilizers? The man could barely read the teleprompter.

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