Blue Devils back in the four, and I'm all healthy again. Methinks twas Loul Deng who came to me in the night and cured me of Unidentified African Disease #24.
I spent the weekend asleep. Friday I had a grilled cheese sandwich at noon and promptly went to bed. Got up at noon on Saturday. Went down to the video store and rented Chicago, Adaptation, and Dreamcatcher, just to have some mindless crap.
Adaptation was okay. Pretty much Lost In Translation with a different plot, but only one of them has Bill Murray. Did that make sense? No? Great. Onward.
Chicago was frigging great. I never knew there was a reason to watch Richard Gere do anything other than headbutt Andy Garcia. Turns out, guy can tap. And I did not previously know that was something worthy of italics. Zeta-Jones is hot as ever, and Zellweger does his her umpteenth ingratiatingly ornery simpleton. John C. Reilly is brilliant as usual; he has a solo song that alone is worth the rental price.
Dreamcatcher: pretty much useless.
Which leaves me with little else to describe for you all. Hopefully Africa related stuff tomorrow. Hasta.
