Well, well, well…it wasn’t me this time, family. I didn’t put the remote in the dishwasher, or the freezer, or in the toilet tank instead of the Ty-D-Bol. I didn’t feed it to the dogs and it’s not in the oven. Neither is dinner, by the way, but finding the remote became my main objective. You’re on your own for dinner, people. But the remote has been found. Deep in the bowels of the sofa in the family room. Not in the cushions, but way, way down there, with the popcorn kernels and pennies and bobby pins (which is frightening because no one in this family uses bobby pins). We can now change channels with wild abandon and mute the KY warming gel commercials. So enough about the remote.

On to more pressing matters. Last night was “Halloween: The Resurrection,” which tried a little too hard. They tried to use jumpy camera movements, gritty film shots, and funny camera angles, as well as that kind of lighting that makes everyone’s eyes look like a cat’s eyes. They tried to use the direction-technique-du-jour — “Hey, let’s make it look like it was shot by amateurs.” The only thing they succeeded at was, well, convincing me it was shot by amateurs. I give up. Even I’m becoming a film snob. Nah.

Today is supposedly Cranky Coworker Day, along with a couple others. Well I’m there, bud. I’m cranky, and my coworkers are seeing to it that I remain cranky for the foreseeable future. Words are being mispronounced and/or misused, horrendous grammar is being thrown about all willy-nilly (thanks, Jeff, it just works here), people’s telephone conversations are reaching crescendos, and people are flat wearing me out. And it’s early. I’m sorry. I realize you all have your burdens. They may be heavier, but they are not any more annoying. I guarantee ya.

Happy Whatever Day.

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