Remember this dumb idea? Where my friend Kris and I were going to attempt the impossible and get me from LAX to the theatre downtown in about an hour, with the goal of making it in time to see the beginning of the "9 to 5" musical at 8pm? Well....welcome to the exciting conclusion!
I flew on my first Virgin America flight ever, and I must say I'm pretty impressed with the airline. The seats were roomy and comfortable, the aesthetic was really space-agey and clean-looking, the in-flight entertainment system (particularly the game Anagramarama) was truly entertaining, and the cherry on top was the fact that I was surrounded by about 25 twenty-something boys from Italy. But I was not impressed with their airspeed. We were supposed to touch down at 6:20, and when Kris called me at 6:25 asking if I was on the shuttle yet, I had to sadly report that I was still on the tarmac. My confidence level on a scale from 1 to 10 slipped to about a 6.5 that we would make it to 9 to 5 on time.
I finally got off the plane and speedwalked to the shuttle stop, hoping I would just catch the one going by since they start at Terminal 1 every half hour on the hour. I figured since I was outside at about 6:35, there was no way they could make it from Terminal 1 to Terminal 6 in five minutes, and I'd be gold. I was not gold. I must have just missed the last one, because I ended up waiting/pacing there for 25 minutes. Confidence level dropped to 5.0.
Once on the shuttle and on the freeway, I saw nothing but a sea of brake lights, and my confidence temporarily dropped to a 3.0, until I realized we were allowed in the HOV lane and were blowing past everyone and it returned to a 5.0. I was on the phone with Kris, giving her a play-by-play of which exits I was passing so she could coordinate train timing.
I pulled up to Union Station at 7:50 or so, watching Kris sprint past the bus to the ticket counter to buy my tickets. Once I was allowed to disembark, she and I took off running to the underground subway tunnels. We breathlessly arrived on the platform, only to see that the next train didn't arrive until 7:57. Confidence level 2.0.
But at 7:54, our train was inexplicably early! We got on it and stood at the doorway as if we were in sprinter's blocks, ready to explode out of the train at our next stop and haul ass to the theatre. It stopped. We ran.
We didn't exactly know which way the theatre was, so we took a few gambles and ran up several flights of stairs. After running so far with my heavy bag and Kris in heels, we started to slow down. Confidence level and lung capacity sank to a 1.0, when we finally made it to the doors of the theatre, only to find it was a whole theatre COMPLEX and we were at the wrong one! We still had about a block to go...fuck! I was just ready to lay down and die and forget the whole caper.
We limped and stumbled to the right theatre, and surprisingly the front doors were still open and attended by ushers. No music. 7.5. We realized we had to walk up three flights of stairs to get to the balcony. 7.0. We made it to the top and were greeted by a smiling usher who uttered these magic words...
I flew on my first Virgin America flight ever, and I must say I'm pretty impressed with the airline. The seats were roomy and comfortable, the aesthetic was really space-agey and clean-looking, the in-flight entertainment system (particularly the game Anagramarama) was truly entertaining, and the cherry on top was the fact that I was surrounded by about 25 twenty-something boys from Italy. But I was not impressed with their airspeed. We were supposed to touch down at 6:20, and when Kris called me at 6:25 asking if I was on the shuttle yet, I had to sadly report that I was still on the tarmac. My confidence level on a scale from 1 to 10 slipped to about a 6.5 that we would make it to 9 to 5 on time.
I finally got off the plane and speedwalked to the shuttle stop, hoping I would just catch the one going by since they start at Terminal 1 every half hour on the hour. I figured since I was outside at about 6:35, there was no way they could make it from Terminal 1 to Terminal 6 in five minutes, and I'd be gold. I was not gold. I must have just missed the last one, because I ended up waiting/pacing there for 25 minutes. Confidence level dropped to 5.0.
Once on the shuttle and on the freeway, I saw nothing but a sea of brake lights, and my confidence temporarily dropped to a 3.0, until I realized we were allowed in the HOV lane and were blowing past everyone and it returned to a 5.0. I was on the phone with Kris, giving her a play-by-play of which exits I was passing so she could coordinate train timing.
I pulled up to Union Station at 7:50 or so, watching Kris sprint past the bus to the ticket counter to buy my tickets. Once I was allowed to disembark, she and I took off running to the underground subway tunnels. We breathlessly arrived on the platform, only to see that the next train didn't arrive until 7:57. Confidence level 2.0.
But at 7:54, our train was inexplicably early! We got on it and stood at the doorway as if we were in sprinter's blocks, ready to explode out of the train at our next stop and haul ass to the theatre. It stopped. We ran.
We didn't exactly know which way the theatre was, so we took a few gambles and ran up several flights of stairs. After running so far with my heavy bag and Kris in heels, we started to slow down. Confidence level and lung capacity sank to a 1.0, when we finally made it to the doors of the theatre, only to find it was a whole theatre COMPLEX and we were at the wrong one! We still had about a block to go...fuck! I was just ready to lay down and die and forget the whole caper.
We limped and stumbled to the right theatre, and surprisingly the front doors were still open and attended by ushers. No music. 7.5. We realized we had to walk up three flights of stairs to get to the balcony. 7.0. We made it to the top and were greeted by a smiling usher who uttered these magic words...
"You just made it."We were all wheezing and sweaty, and sank breathlessly into our seats at 8:10. Literally one minute later, the lights dimmed and the curtains opened...
So I'm currently working on a (probably) overly-ambitious project to organize every photo that has ever passed into my possession, ever. This involves editing all the image files' metadata to ensure the correct date/time is embedded, as well as doing all sorts of extra content tagging for location, people, events, etc. And in going through every photo you've ever had, ever, you can get pretty nostalgic.
On another note, the weather had finally gotten consistently nice and sunny for the past two weeks. But yesterday and today have been cloudy/rainy/pissy, and have immediately filled me with dread at the thought of 9-10 months of rain to come. So since it's an icky day, I'm here at the house tagging photos and I just so happened to be on the folder from my trip to Scandinavia in 2006. Cue music to reminisce by....
I was at the Kiasma Art Museum in Helsinki, and wandered into a viewing room for a video installation. The featured video was called "Helsinki Complaints Choir," and the concept was that a composer conducted a survey asking a bunch of Finns what their biggest complaints about life were. She then consolidated all the complaints, set them to music, and got a large choir to sing the song about all these random (and very Finnish) frustrations of daily life. It was completely charming and wonderful...and I loved it so much that I sat in that video installation room and watched the video from start to finish three or four times.
Just like I did a few minutes ago as I was tagging it. And sadly, these two lines caught my attention as far too relevant:
The rest of it isn't quite so depressing: Helsinki Complaints Choir on YouTube.
On another note, the weather had finally gotten consistently nice and sunny for the past two weeks. But yesterday and today have been cloudy/rainy/pissy, and have immediately filled me with dread at the thought of 9-10 months of rain to come. So since it's an icky day, I'm here at the house tagging photos and I just so happened to be on the folder from my trip to Scandinavia in 2006. Cue music to reminisce by....
I was at the Kiasma Art Museum in Helsinki, and wandered into a viewing room for a video installation. The featured video was called "Helsinki Complaints Choir," and the concept was that a composer conducted a survey asking a bunch of Finns what their biggest complaints about life were. She then consolidated all the complaints, set them to music, and got a large choir to sing the song about all these random (and very Finnish) frustrations of daily life. It was completely charming and wonderful...and I loved it so much that I sat in that video installation room and watched the video from start to finish three or four times.
Just like I did a few minutes ago as I was tagging it. And sadly, these two lines caught my attention as far too relevant:
The rest of it isn't quite so depressing: Helsinki Complaints Choir on YouTube.
When I was a kid, I loved all those old Disney movies. I'm not talking about the animated ones with princesses and dwarves, I'm talking about the ones about Medfield College and Dexter Riley. These movies starred a very young (and very smoking hot) Kurt Russell as the precocious Dexter. He drove a dune buggy. He wore mod 60s clothes. He and his friends always dabbled in science due to their great admiration for Professor Quigley, and Dexter always managed to screw up the science to accidentally give himself some sort of super power. And this super power would inevitably screw things up for the Dean Wiggins, the Dean of Medfield College, and/or A.J. Arno, the local sorta-seedy wealthy businessman played by Cesar Romero.
In "Now You See Him, Now You Don't," Dexter accidentally invented an invisibility spray potion. In "The Strongest Man in the World," Dexter accidentally discovers a new chemical, that when mixed with cereal, gives you superhuman strength. And, in "The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes" which is the point of today's post and the movie I just finished watching, Dexter tries to replace a burnt-out actuator in the ENIAC-sized computer that A.J. Arno donated to Medfield, and in doing so, managed to electrocute himself which somehow transferred all the computer's computational abilities into Dexter's brain.
I am going to skip all other details of the plot, and focus solely on the scene where Dean Wiggins and Professor Quigley take Dexter to the doctor after they start to realize that his intelligence skyrocketed overnight.
First, they check Dexter's eyes:
And when they look in Dexter's eyes with the scope, they see this:
Then they take an x-ray of Dexter's brain:
And the x-ray of Dexter's brain shows this:
And my favorite part of this other than how completely ludicrous this is....is the fact that my little 8 year old mind must have thought this seemed totally plausible.
In "Now You See Him, Now You Don't," Dexter accidentally invented an invisibility spray potion. In "The Strongest Man in the World," Dexter accidentally discovers a new chemical, that when mixed with cereal, gives you superhuman strength. And, in "The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes" which is the point of today's post and the movie I just finished watching, Dexter tries to replace a burnt-out actuator in the ENIAC-sized computer that A.J. Arno donated to Medfield, and in doing so, managed to electrocute himself which somehow transferred all the computer's computational abilities into Dexter's brain.
I am going to skip all other details of the plot, and focus solely on the scene where Dean Wiggins and Professor Quigley take Dexter to the doctor after they start to realize that his intelligence skyrocketed overnight.
First, they check Dexter's eyes:
And when they look in Dexter's eyes with the scope, they see this:
Then they take an x-ray of Dexter's brain:
And the x-ray of Dexter's brain shows this:
And my favorite part of this other than how completely ludicrous this is....is the fact that my little 8 year old mind must have thought this seemed totally plausible.
As I walked past the counter while holding a cup of water...
Him: "Excuse me, miss?"
Me: "...."
Him: "Miss!?!"
Me: "Huh? Me?"
Him: "There is a hole in your soda cup there."
Me: "Huh? Me?"
Him: "Your cup."
Me: "Yeah?"
Him: "There's a hole in it."
Me: "There is? Oh goodness, am I dripping water everywhere??" *frantically checking bottom of paper cup*
Him: "Don't you see the hole?"
Me: *continuing to frantically investigate cup's structural integrity*
Him: "The hole is in the top of the cup! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahaha!!"
Him: "Excuse me, miss?"
Me: "...."
Him: "Miss!?!"
Me: "Huh? Me?"
Him: "There is a hole in your soda cup there."
Me: "Huh? Me?"
Him: "Your cup."
Me: "Yeah?"
Him: "There's a hole in it."
Me: "There is? Oh goodness, am I dripping water everywhere??" *frantically checking bottom of paper cup*
Him: "Don't you see the hole?"
Me: *continuing to frantically investigate cup's structural integrity*
Him: "The hole is in the top of the cup! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahaha!!"
My sister Staci sent me the most amazing news this morning, which is that there will be a really-real, true life barbeque at Southfork Ranch in Dallas in November. JR will be there. Sue Ellen will be there. Bobby will be there. And by god...I will be there!!
They are having a big 30th anniversary cast reunion and barbeque. And even though I made a promise to myself a while ago that I should quit being so impulsive and running off to do retarded things without thinking about them...fuck that, I'm half-tempted to buy one of the $500 seats so I can be that much closer to Larry! (And admittedly, to get the extra drink ticket.)
I'm gonna go and I'm gonna wear way too much blush and then I'm gonna drink whiskey and punch somebody out and then push them into the pool off the balcony and then go have sex in one of the barns and then get married and then get put in a sanitarium and then get pregnant with JR's baby and then blackmail him into buying me a condo and then get Bobby to finance a boutique for me to operate and then fake my own death in a plane crash. Basically, I'm going to experience every single plotline from the 13 year series in that one night. I have a lot to plan.
They are having a big 30th anniversary cast reunion and barbeque. And even though I made a promise to myself a while ago that I should quit being so impulsive and running off to do retarded things without thinking about them...fuck that, I'm half-tempted to buy one of the $500 seats so I can be that much closer to Larry! (And admittedly, to get the extra drink ticket.)
I'm gonna go and I'm gonna wear way too much blush and then I'm gonna drink whiskey and punch somebody out and then push them into the pool off the balcony and then go have sex in one of the barns and then get married and then get put in a sanitarium and then get pregnant with JR's baby and then blackmail him into buying me a condo and then get Bobby to finance a boutique for me to operate and then fake my own death in a plane crash. Basically, I'm going to experience every single plotline from the 13 year series in that one night. I have a lot to plan.
Back in May, I bought myself a birthday present in the form of a ticket to see Dolly Parton. I have been staring at that ticket hanging on my clipboard for months...and her big show finally happened last Friday!
For maximum thematic and historical effect, I wore the exact same outfit I wore when I went to Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede in Pigeon Forge, TN. Which was also the same outfit I wore to see Loretta Lynn play at her very own ranch in Hurricane Mills, TN. This outfit consists of a homespun plaid button down shirt with a white butterfly collar (which is actually a Loretta Lynn® brand shirt purchased at her gift shop) and high-heeled cowgirl boots. I had to field a lot of questions at work on Friday on this matter. It got to where I just shouted "I'm going to see DOLLY tonight!!!!" when anyone so much as looked at me. Here is the outfit when I wore it in Tennessee. Or I guess I should say when both Joy and I wore it:
The show was amazing, and complete with a drag Dolly Parton who mimed along with Dolly during the whole show, and was sorta like having my own personal live action Titantron just a few rows away. Dolly could not have been more adorable or charming. She told lots of little stories, cracked lots of little jokes, and positively GLOWED:
Earlier that day a guy at work asked me to complete the following sentence: "My night will be incomplete if Dolly does not sing ________." My blank was "Why'd You Come In Here Looking Like That?" And she sang that one as one of the first songs right out of the gate! She sang all the hits, including her very first recording ever from when she was an 11 year old kid. In an 11 year old's voice. And an amazing acapella gospel-y song with all the backup band. Even the cover of "She Drives Me Crazy" was totally enjoyable! She finished it up with some "9 to 5" and then serenaded us about how she would always, always love us.
I should have taken notes of all the cute little things she said. The only one that's really sticking in my head all these days later was when she had a stray hair bugging her that she was trying to get off of her, and she made a big dramatic show of it and once she flicked it away, she told us not to worry because "pulling that hair out did not hurt her one little ol' bit."
Unfortunately, some of the evening was tainted by a couple of super obnoxious and inconsiderate gay guys who would NOT SIT THE FUCK DOWN THROUGH THE ENTIRE SHOW. This was very much a sit-down and politely listen kind of show. Early on, there was a guy a few rows up that stood up the whole time going into tremors he was so excited, and security made him go sit somewhere else. Why no one dealt with those other two dickweeds, I'll never know. All I do know is right after Dolly finished "I Will Always Love You," I shouted at them, "AND I WILL ALWAYS HATE YOU!!!!"
For maximum thematic and historical effect, I wore the exact same outfit I wore when I went to Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede in Pigeon Forge, TN. Which was also the same outfit I wore to see Loretta Lynn play at her very own ranch in Hurricane Mills, TN. This outfit consists of a homespun plaid button down shirt with a white butterfly collar (which is actually a Loretta Lynn® brand shirt purchased at her gift shop) and high-heeled cowgirl boots. I had to field a lot of questions at work on Friday on this matter. It got to where I just shouted "I'm going to see DOLLY tonight!!!!" when anyone so much as looked at me. Here is the outfit when I wore it in Tennessee. Or I guess I should say when both Joy and I wore it:
The show was amazing, and complete with a drag Dolly Parton who mimed along with Dolly during the whole show, and was sorta like having my own personal live action Titantron just a few rows away. Dolly could not have been more adorable or charming. She told lots of little stories, cracked lots of little jokes, and positively GLOWED:
Earlier that day a guy at work asked me to complete the following sentence: "My night will be incomplete if Dolly does not sing ________." My blank was "Why'd You Come In Here Looking Like That?" And she sang that one as one of the first songs right out of the gate! She sang all the hits, including her very first recording ever from when she was an 11 year old kid. In an 11 year old's voice. And an amazing acapella gospel-y song with all the backup band. Even the cover of "She Drives Me Crazy" was totally enjoyable! She finished it up with some "9 to 5" and then serenaded us about how she would always, always love us.
I should have taken notes of all the cute little things she said. The only one that's really sticking in my head all these days later was when she had a stray hair bugging her that she was trying to get off of her, and she made a big dramatic show of it and once she flicked it away, she told us not to worry because "pulling that hair out did not hurt her one little ol' bit."
Unfortunately, some of the evening was tainted by a couple of super obnoxious and inconsiderate gay guys who would NOT SIT THE FUCK DOWN THROUGH THE ENTIRE SHOW. This was very much a sit-down and politely listen kind of show. Early on, there was a guy a few rows up that stood up the whole time going into tremors he was so excited, and security made him go sit somewhere else. Why no one dealt with those other two dickweeds, I'll never know. All I do know is right after Dolly finished "I Will Always Love You," I shouted at them, "AND I WILL ALWAYS HATE YOU!!!!"
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 12:10 PM, Halee wrote:
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 12:38 PM, Kris wrote:
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 12:56 PM, Kris wrote:
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 1:01 PM, Halee wrote:
Kris! I'm sorry my email messages to you are always frantic and loaded with exclamation marks!!! I am easily excitable!
I just found out that the stage version of 9 to 5 will be previewing in September in LA. And there are shows when I am there! Would you be interested in such a dumb thing?
I'm kinda skeptical this will logistically work out, though. My flight arrives 6:20 on Thursday evening. The show starts at 8. We can't go Friday, because that's my only chance for Point Break Live. The Saturday matinée isn't until 2, and my flight out is at 5. If we (or just I) go, it would have to be Thursday. So my question to you: is it even within the realm of possibility that I could make it from LAX to the theatre in time?
halee ann
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 12:38 PM, Kris wrote:
Dear Crazy Person,
I would definitely be interested in such a thing. I actually think it could work, in the world where you are Magnum PI and I am MacGyver. Here's how I would do it if I were you. Don't pack luggage and have cash in your pocket. Be sure to have a 5 and 4 1's. Run from the plane to outside the baggage claim and catch the next possible "fly away shuttle" to Union Station. They come every 30 minutes, so hopefully you will catch the 6:30 one. I would estimate this could take 60 minutes at most? I will be waiting for you at Union Station, at which point we will hop on the Red Line from Union Station one stop to Civic Center Station. This will take maximum of 10 minutes (including wait times for the train). We will walk 0.3 mile to the theater. (7 minutes).
Arrival if all goes as planned: 7:47
Also, there is the option of taking the subway directly from the airport to the airport. I've never done that but I could investigate that further. It may be a lot faster because there is no traffic to deal with (which the bus will be subject to). My dad gets in today so I can see what his times are for comparison.
Synchronizing watches,
MacGyver
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 12:56 PM, Kris wrote:
Magnum,
Addendum:
I just looked online and it says 45 minutes or less for the shuttle. So, let's say you miss the 6:30 Fly Away and catch the 7:00 pm one. Your arrival at Union station is 7:45 and we take the RED or PURPLE train to Civic Center Station (arrival at 7:55) and then RUN to Ahmanson Theatre (3 minutes). Arrive at 7:58. Wear running shoes. Start training now for a .3 mile run. Get your time down to 3 minutes. Don't pack any clothes at all.
I love a challenge. Let's do this!!!!
MacGyver
On Wed, Aug 6, 2008 at 1:01 PM, Halee wrote:
Haha!!! This is so very awesome that we HAVE to do it. I will procure show tickets, baseball cap, and Hawaiian shirt immediately.
halee p.i.
There was the time somebody tried to steal my car from my own driveway in Australia. And then there was this morning...
3:something a.m.
I woke up to the sound of a plastic garbage bin being aggressively rolled out to the curb. I cursed whatever dickhead neighbor decided to put out their trash at 3 o'clock in the morning. Then I remembered that I had forgotten to put my own bin out, and thought about getting up and looking out the window to see if my downstairs neighbors had done it, but I decided to stay in bed.
4:something a.m.
I was never able to fall back to sleep, so I got up and did some work on the computer for a little while, and decided to try to go back to bed since I was getting up at 6:30.
5:something a.m.
I heard somebody talking over a police PA system, and then realized I saw red flashing lights flickering through my curtain. I peeped out the window and saw a few cop cars, a few bashed up cars, and some neighbors in robes. One of the bashed up cars was in my planter box:
5:30ish a.m.
I started composing an email to my landlord to let him know what happened, and it had lots of, "I don't know what's going on, but..." and "I'll go check it out after the cops leave..." and I realized I was being a dumb scared little mouse, and that *I* didn't do anything wrong, so I hitched up some jeans and went out there to investigate and give her the contact info for my landlord.
5:35ish a.m.
So what happened was someone in a Cadillac must have been hauling ass down my street, and crashed their car into the back of a car parked on the curb in front of the western next door neighbors...and pushed that parked car all the way from in front of the neighbor's house right into the wooden planter box out front.
At the scene, the two neighbors in their robes were telling me how lucky they were because there cars were parked right there in the street, too, and this whole domino collision narrowly and miraculously missed both their cars. But...we three were the only ones out there. Where was the driver? "Oh, he split hours ago."
So he left his Caddy unlocked and smashed up in the middle of the street...with a case of Corona in the back seat. The police officer told me that she looked up the owner's driving record, and he had just got his license back after having it suspended for DUI.
7:17 a.m.
After sending them a tip, my local neighborhood news blog posted my report! I am a celebrity and a modern-day hero!!!
3:something a.m.
I woke up to the sound of a plastic garbage bin being aggressively rolled out to the curb. I cursed whatever dickhead neighbor decided to put out their trash at 3 o'clock in the morning. Then I remembered that I had forgotten to put my own bin out, and thought about getting up and looking out the window to see if my downstairs neighbors had done it, but I decided to stay in bed.
4:something a.m.
I was never able to fall back to sleep, so I got up and did some work on the computer for a little while, and decided to try to go back to bed since I was getting up at 6:30.
5:something a.m.
I heard somebody talking over a police PA system, and then realized I saw red flashing lights flickering through my curtain. I peeped out the window and saw a few cop cars, a few bashed up cars, and some neighbors in robes. One of the bashed up cars was in my planter box:
5:30ish a.m.
I started composing an email to my landlord to let him know what happened, and it had lots of, "I don't know what's going on, but..." and "I'll go check it out after the cops leave..." and I realized I was being a dumb scared little mouse, and that *I* didn't do anything wrong, so I hitched up some jeans and went out there to investigate and give her the contact info for my landlord.
5:35ish a.m.
So what happened was someone in a Cadillac must have been hauling ass down my street, and crashed their car into the back of a car parked on the curb in front of the western next door neighbors...and pushed that parked car all the way from in front of the neighbor's house right into the wooden planter box out front.
At the scene, the two neighbors in their robes were telling me how lucky they were because there cars were parked right there in the street, too, and this whole domino collision narrowly and miraculously missed both their cars. But...we three were the only ones out there. Where was the driver? "Oh, he split hours ago."
So he left his Caddy unlocked and smashed up in the middle of the street...with a case of Corona in the back seat. The police officer told me that she looked up the owner's driving record, and he had just got his license back after having it suspended for DUI.
7:17 a.m.
After sending them a tip, my local neighborhood news blog posted my report! I am a celebrity and a modern-day hero!!!
Yesterday! Was great! I had my review at work and got an unexpected raise and promotion!
Then in my excitement over that, I emailed a friend of mine in California and within 5 minutes got completely carried away and bought a plane ticket to Los Angeles to go celebrate! On Virgin America where you can text the cute boy in seat 9B and pretend you are flying to space with Richard Branson and Victoria Principal!
And once in LA, we're going ride subways and go see Point Break Live and find the finish line from Midnight Madness in Room 2704 of the Bonaventure Hotel!
Then in my excitement over that, I emailed a friend of mine in California and within 5 minutes got completely carried away and bought a plane ticket to Los Angeles to go celebrate! On Virgin America where you can text the cute boy in seat 9B and pretend you are flying to space with Richard Branson and Victoria Principal!
And once in LA, we're going ride subways and go see Point Break Live and find the finish line from Midnight Madness in Room 2704 of the Bonaventure Hotel!
Oh. My. God. On the souls of all the VonErichs, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do??????
The WWF is hiring web analysts.
I am nanoseconds away from applying, just to say I did.
The WWF is hiring web analysts.
I am nanoseconds away from applying, just to say I did.
