BEST...EPISODE...EVER

Halloween.  I fucking love the shit out of this made up and inconsequential holiday of ghouls, ghosts and goddamn sluts.  Yeah, even the sluts I find favorable at the moment...even sluts can be redeeming once covered in blood and cuts.  So a few glasses of wine in, I turn on XXII.  It was so well executed it seemed to not even have happened.  So good in fact that I forget the lot of it, 'cept for the amazing satisfactory feeling I received throughout and following.  What a throwback to the ole days...cleverness oozing from every pencil sketch and delivered dialogue.  Witty, humorous, topical...relevant.  Like a man, it was brilliant in its original state, but I'm sure I'll find something to dislike...greatly, soon enough.  Saturday night - wandered on down to my local Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra to catch Psycho and some brilliant musical styling.  I showed early so I could partake in the awesome wine selection and smoke a doobie before partaking in Hitchcock and his humor.  I had forgotten his propensity towards humor...so funny!  I sulked about the room with my glass of red, lonely and lost when I hear my name...a gorgeous and apt friend of mine works the events at Epcor.  Superb!  We chat about and make plans for the following moments after the show.  She teaches me all about the sweet "loge" I will be housed in(and the fine art of drinking gin once settled in our cozy pub) and I proceed to find my seats all baked and wasted and junk.  Argentina is my new befuddled home away from home.  So the show...Psycho...big screen...wicked seats...the fucking orchestra supplying all of the movie making music supported by a super hot french chick who was way too young and far too talented.  Henceforth...all films in the future will provide live music or I shan't be inclined to participate.  It was goddamn wonderful.  Intermission I consumed more appetizing wine at a furious rate and stroll about the room with such an inflated sense of self esteem...it was nearly troubling.  Anyhoo...show ends and Lovely Friend and I hop on over to the local watering hole for a brewsky and some chitty chat.  I, who had not slept for like three days previous was ready for pass-out time following awesome conversing with skilled friendo, headed to the train for a quick trip home.  I get this wicked bad feeling.  I felt exposed, vulnerable.  Not good vulnerable, but I am going to get fucked and left for dead kind of frailty...the kind of fragility exploited in films for prophet and shock value.  So, trying to ignore my guts(not recommended ever), crammed my ear phones in to listen to some calming musac.  The effing Ipod wouldn't work and this was enough of a sign for me.  I skedaddled back to a well lit and open bus-picking-up area.  I shit you people not...the moment I felt safe and illuminated for potential rapists to see...the Ipod turned on and played.  In my state I thought that was pretty fucking cool...now I think it's pretty fucking awesome.  Technology may have saved my life...and yet I abhor it so still.  Ah well...The Simpsons paid obeisance to Psycho tonight and that was the point of this entry...mmmm, relevance.