You know--there was some movie starring Denzel Washington, which showed a bomb going off in front of him, close enough that a Jeep Cherokee next to him had its side caved in by the blast wave. I'd always suspected that if you were that close to the blast, you'd die even without getting hit by shrapnel. This would seem to lend credence to that theory.
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If all goes well, tomorrow (Friday) I'm going to paint the ceiling in the family room. I've got the paint, I've got the holes spackled, I've got the light fixture down, I've got the edges taped; I just need to get some dropcloths and sand the spackling, and then it's off to the races.
Sure would be nice if I could ride my motorcycle. Maybe I'll ride it to the hardware store for the drop cloths. They don't take up much room.
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Carpet downstairs is dry again. No further leaks. That's good.
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Tonight Mrs. Fungus and I finished watching Wrath of Khan, started a couple of days ago. That movie held up surprisingly well! The special effects don't look at all dated, and because most of the costuming and makeup cues were not taken from the late 1970s or early 1980s (as they had been, to some extent, in Motion Picture) the people don't look dated. It doesn't feel like it's 35 years old (*whimper*).
Although I know about a third of the dialogue by heart, I still really enjoyed watching it.
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Because the block font they used for the end credits had a capital O and capital D that nearly looked alike, Mrs. Fungus misread "Ricardo Montalban" as "Rickaroo", and I just about busted a gut laughing.