Saw a couple of flix: Punch Drunk Love, which is the PT Anderson/Adam Sandler sauce. Not so good, and shockingly short at 95 minutes. The Thirteenth Floor - not as good as PDL. It does, however, have Vincent D'Onofrio and has a "nested Matrix" storyline. Sadly, Gretchen Mol's tits only start poking through her shirt near the very end of the film. The payoff, though, isn't bad, as she walks out onto a sunlit balcony in a quasi translucent shirt which quite nicely displays her bounteous braless rack.

Current listening - Kool Keith's Dr. Dooom. Very very good.

Also went to the gym yesterday. It's a mixed bag, the gym, on the one hand regular exercise does tend to improve mood. On the other, while it is often fun to ogle attractive women in exercise clothing, this can also foster a black mood. I started exercising in order to lose weight and have a trimmer body. While I have lost no weight, the general lift in mood and the knowledge that I am exercising has made me feel much more comfortable with my shape.

Which is to say that I would like to let my bounteous braless breasts hang prominent and free. Just like Gretchen Mol.