SCORE SCORE SCORE

Landlord just called, and on the recommendation of our spaz landlord and spaz boss, we are moving. Hells yes. Feel free to come over and relax on our front porch, which we will be having in two weeks. Adulthood here we are, &c.

When I got home after work the other night, this movie called "Let's Do Things" was on. That's the greatest name for a movie ever. Also, it was listed as "1931 (New)."


We went to the movies last night without any particular desire to see any particular movie, since it's what they call "Slim 'Pickins'" (ie Vantage Point) these days on the movie front. The only thing playing when we walked in was Horton Hears a Who, which neither of us had any particular desire to see, but decided to anyway.

Verdict: it was good. Especially this character, which is named Katie, and made me laugh out loud so hard that everybody in the theater looked at me and then laughed.


One of the problems with phlogging exclusively about oneself is that every year certain things happen, so there's naturally going to be some overlap. Remember last St. Patrick's Day? Sure you do!:


This year it wasn't quite so gross


but if you waited a couple hours and added a grown woman crying while trying to sneak gulps from her dude's Bud Light, you'd have the scene pretty well down.

Moving Timez and Squirrlz and Boring Citiez!

I've been living in what my former roommates affectionately called "The Hole" for nearly three years now. That time is almost over. Our lease is up at the end of April, and we're moving up and beyond into the ether of not having roommates. This, people have told us, is what people in their 30s do. Seems extravagant, I know, but one must follow the status quo.

The first apartment we looked at was meh, what with the carpeting and ugly kitchen. But then today we saw this beautiful thing, with a front porch and windows that open!


And not to mention a view of something other than a port-o-potty.


Let's all hold our collective noses until Mr. Landlord says that he wants us for sure.


BONUSBONUSBONUS SQUIRREL EATING PIZZA


SUPERBONUSDEFFOREVIEW The Washington Post ("WaPo") travel section this weekend tried to prove that Salt Lake City does indeed have a nightlife, regardless of what the naysayers naysay. Nice lede, WaPo!

What is so "lively," you ask? Well, it seems that "Jersey Sports Grill" is. Only the appetizers they ordered never came. So is "Zanzibar," except for the fact that the cocktails were gross. And finally, "Port O'Call," a place that had lots of people in line.

I lived in Salt Lake City for a year. In fact, I lived in Salt Lake City for the year when the Olympics were there, which is probably the best possible year for somebody who wants to not be bored in Utah. I bartended in Salt Lake City at a pool hall called "Ya' Buts," formerly called "Spanky's," which was formerly an adult theater. It is now a parking lot. RIP, Ya' Buts. You gave me $35 in income every Monday night, give or take.


Guess what I did for fun in Salt Lake City? I went to Nevada and gambled. The only thing good about Salt Lake City, people, is the meth. Believe it.