Because damn it, it is. (And besides, I need an icon for when I review the movie this weekend.)
EDIT: And while I'm at it ...
If there is someone on your friends list you would love to have an epic, sweaty, damn near legendary, 12 hour fuckathon with, post this same exact sentence in your journal.
I heard on the radio today that Jerry Seinfeld spent $900,000 to build a garage for five cars in New York City.
Do you know what I could do with $900,000? Buy a nice little house in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania and live comfortably writing for the rest of my life. *resists the urge to throw a childish temper tantrum*
Don't mind me. I'm having one of those "If I wasn't a lazy procrastinating bastard, I wouldn't be working this stupid job" days. Ugh.
EDIT: Sometime this century, I might actually be unchained from my work desk and allowed to go home. That assumes, of course, that the DNA test comes through on the blood I used to sign over my immortal soul to the company.