Wastedness

Cobra is running on the telly. I am lying flat on the floor just barely able to move my fingers enough to be able to type this, while at the same time trying to pretend that I follow the movie.

I've had better days. My head's pounding, sinuitis having settled in my skull. I've had 12-hour days all week, been on pills and caffeine, fighting the vicious cold that spawned the sinuitis, and tried to be of some kind of help with my kid during the nights, since he also has a hefty cold (he, of course, being the vehicle of the viral transfer from the petri dish they call 'day-care' to our home). In all, I'm feeling fairly sorry for myself. (Why is Brigitte Nielsen wearing a clown's make-up? - reeealy white skin, red lips, big furry hear?)

I may be getting soft. I haven't done these kind of hours work-wise, since I was writing up my dissertation. (Go on. Read it. You know you want to. There's a funny bit on page 104. Promise.) On the other hand, then I didn't have Asbjørn. (He so sad, Sly. Sad, sad eyebrows.)

I'm trying to think of some music for the mood. In looking through my little heap of links that I keep of stuff that I trip over, I find a little gem, which I don't seem to remember having posted about.

In an earlier life, I posted about not being able to find online the incredibly artful rendition of (a snippet of) I Am the Walrus by Swedish actor Peter Stormare in the movie A Million Dollar Hotel. His character, Dixie, claims to be the fifth Beatle, and, in particular, claims the credit for the song.

For some reason, somebody doesn't want this movie to be embeddable, so quickly, before I fall asleep - go click this link.