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I love when people come up with clever segues like this one:
The Imperial March is still one of the best pieces of cinematic music ever composed. It's direct, to the point, unambiguous, and yet lends itself to all sorts of subtle variation.
Prediction: since I don't have to be up until 6:30a tomorrow, and it's only 7:45p now, and we've already had dinner, I'm about to dive deep into a musical rabbit hole on Youtube.
Debating internally as to whether I want to spend $200 on a gag gift. Not outside my means, but definitely outside my definition of fiscal responsibility.
Also, jesus ******* christ. This foot-warmer which I paid $46 on Amazon for, after my old one (different model) died, is not only making a weird smell, but it's overpoweringly hot even on the #3 (of 10) setting. EDIT: Still too hot on #2. I don't think the controller is... you know... controlling.
My FiL, Don, liked to sneak up on people (those he knew, private property) in a stand during hunting. He was damn good at it. Brian, his friend, got caught more than once, as did I.
Anyway, about 30 years ago, electric hunting socks had just come on the market. Brian looked at them several times in the course of shopping with Don, but as they were quite expensive, he just couldn't bring himself to buy what he thought was a gimmick. Days later, it was a cold morning in the woods. As Don snuck up on Brian, he appeared to be dancing in the stand and singing/talking to himself. Curious, Don crept closer.
As he got within hearing, what he head Brian muttering over and over was, "You cheap bastard. You wouldn't buy the damned socks. You cheap bastard."
My FiL, Don, liked to sneak up on people (those he knew, private property) in a stand during hunting. He was damn good at it. Brian, his friend, got caught more than once, as did I.
Anyway, about 30 years ago, electric hunting socks had just come on the market. Brian looked at them several times in the course of shopping with Don, but as they were quite expensive, he just couldn't bring himself to buy what he thought was a gimmick. Days later, it was a cold morning in the woods. As Don snuck up on Brian, he appeared to be dancing in the stand and singing/talking to himself. Curious, Don crept closer.
As he got within hearing, what he head Brian muttering over and over was, "You cheap bastard. You wouldn't buy the damned socks. You cheap bastard."
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