and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

Well alright then.

I know I get boring when I just start talking about one other blogger over and over.. Like when I blab on about tony or jaime.. but I'm gonna do it again, so get over it.

Anti, just back from phoenix, gets a message from his pal:

'COME OVER! we can watch big lebowski'

and his response?

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....... nice. my comfort movie, i could use a little of that.

Nice to know that the Big L isn't just for me. I think that is one of the things that makes the Big L exactly what it is and exactly how Anti put it: comfort movie.

You can watch the Big L when you're fucked up real bad and it's 3AM in the morning and you didn't manage to bring a single ho home with you, despite the puke on your shoes.. and you know, by the time he's scrawlin' out that 79 cents everything is just a-ok.

You can watch the Big L when you wake up too early on a Sunday after a rough week and an even rougher weekend and you can't sleep and you're cursing the sun shining in the window and the awful world outside that is up and awake and going to church and mowing their lawns and fuck you fuck you fuck you and you can just throw in the Big L. It goes surprisingly well with a bowl of cheerios. Or two. Or three. The Big L has that lazy Sunday sort of feel to it which makes it perfect for this sort of situation.

You can watch the Big L on a Monday evening after a typically asshole day at the office when you're just not sure but maybe this is the week you pull that old shotgun your grandpappy gave you off the wall and haul it into work and start plugging away at certain morons that you are convinced you're doing a service to by taking their lives.

You can even watch the Big L while you sit in your cubicle tap-tap-tapping away at the keyboard. All you gotta do is download it off the net somewhere and burn it to CD - divX style - and you're good as golden. I don't even feel guilty cause I figure if anyone in "hollywood" doesn't give two flying fucks about pirating movies it's the Coen Brothers.

All I know is right now it's Monday morning. My car is still in the shop, I was stranded all weekend in my asshole cold apartment with my crazy roommate who talks to himself (I took the shotgun down off the wall and hid it in my closet) and I could use a little Big L right about now.

You can imagine what happens from here.

"He fixes the cable?"