Taxonomy Department:Scott and I have decided that henceforth all movie sequels should follow this naming convention:
If it’s the first sequel, it must be subtitled “Electric Boogaloo.”
If it’s the second sequel (third movie in the series), the subtitle should be the title of the movie with an “ing” added to it.
Examples: “Taken 2: Electric Boogaloo” “Taken 3: The Takening.”
Moviemakers are free to subtitle any additional sequels however they see fit, because, frankly, who cares after that? By the time you hit the fourth movie it’s just a phoned-in money grab.
Additionally, subtitling the first sequel “The Wrath of [Title']” is also acceptable. (“Taken 2: The Wrath of Taken.”)
This why, even though it was a terrible movie, I want to see sequels for “The Happening,” so that we can see posters for “The Happening 2: Electric Boogaloo” and “The Happening 3: The Happeninging.”
In Case You Hadn’t Guessed Department:
Scott and I went to see “Taken 2.*” I never really tire of watching Liam Neeson kill people with ruthless efficiency.
Less Chat, More Bloodletting Department:Guy Drawing My Blood (GDMB): You ready for the weekend?
GDMB: Going to watch any games?
GDMB: Going to watch the debate tonight?
Me: Probably not. (Thinking) Stop trying to find common ground with me, hu-man.
Certifiably Professional Department:
Another week, another pointless professional certification: ITIL Intermediate Certificate in Service Transition.
If I collect eight more certifications I can…take another certification exam.
Sounds Like This Guy I Know Department:
(Former) Boss: He just thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.
Me: I know someone like that. In fact, I see him right now, standing there in that mirror in front of me.
Me: The difference is that the guy in the mirror actually is smarter than everyone else.
I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore Department:
As can be inferred by the Department above, I had a diabetes check up today.
It was kind of odd – and it feels odd to cite this as an example of it being odd – in that the doctor didn’t really do many of the things he usually does, like feel up my feet.
Normally he does that to test to see if there’s been any loss of sensitivity due to neuropathy. I kind of dislike it, particularly when he scrapes some sort metal implement along my soles to see if I react. Naturally, I do, as it’s uncomfortable. Beyond that, I’m just not particularly fond of having someone touch my feet.
He also taps a tuning fork and then presses that against my ankles and asks me to tell him when I feel the vibrations stop.
But he didn’t do any of that, and while I certainly didn’t miss it, it seemed odd that he didn’t do it for the first time in the two and a half years that I’ve been going in for check ups.
I suppose that, at this point, given my history, there’s not much need to be concerned about it. He said, “A lot of people would actually say you’re cured. I know better than to say that, because it can always pop up again, but you’re in very good shape right now.”
In any case, having fasted the night before, and being in Ashburn, due to a scheduling snafu, I decided to stop somewhere for breakfast/lunch.
There’s a Five Guys near the medical center, so I considered that, but I was in more of a breakfast mood, so I opted instead to stop at the nearby IHOP.
As I looked over some of the decadent menu items – French Toast drizzled with cinnamon roll glaze, for example – I found my eyes gravitating towards one of their healthier, lower-calorie breakfast items, which is what I actually ended up ordering.
As I told Scott, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
But at least I had a side of bacon, so I’m not a total stranger to myself.
Bad News, Good(?) News Department:
The Bad News: While I was waiting for the doctor I read an article in a diabetes magazine that said that, thanks to having suffered from diabetes, the odds that I’ll develop some form of dementia when I get older are greatly increased.
The Good News: Thanks also to the diabetes, my heart will probably give out long before that happens.