Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

Last night Shana and I attended a pre-screening of Death at a Funeral. Frank Oz directed it and, since he was Yoda, we thought it would be good.
Also, Alan Tudyk from the still mourned Firefly was in it. Oh, Firefly. We hardly knew you.
A moment of silence, please.
Someday, I swear Fox will pay a terrible price for the heartless murder of that series. Someday, that network's fear of smart TV will undo them. When it does I'll be there, boxed set in hand, ready to beat the executives about the heads, necks and groins with it until they admit to their evil deeds.
But anyway.
Death at a Funeral was extremely funny. At times, the humor was so mean it was almost uncomfortable, and of course that makes it even more funny.
We were able to see it last night because Gwynyth went to spend some time with her grandfather and cousins a little farther north. She left yesterday. The movie with adult themes, drug use and near-constant profanity was a nice distraction, but we miss her already.
And the cats are quite stressed out that she isn't around.
In other news, the Roomba people have accelerated the timeline for the eventual fall of mankind.
I, for one, welcome our new robot overlords.
I'm just really sad I didn't pick up a Roomba and duct tape a Tazer to it myself.