All is well in the universe.

Finally I have resolution with the Bank of America. It only took about a month but we both seem happy with the results of our efforts to return my bank account to normal after some dickweed stole my debit card number. It took them 20 days to get me a new debit card, however, and that sucks. But now I have it and I can spend my money again. Wheeee!

Bradley 'Bridget Jones' Barrett weight loss update: after 15 days of half-assed dieting and really no exercise at all (I've been busy/lazy) I have lost 2 pounds. 238 and counting. It's amazing what losing a few pounds will do for one's self esteem. I'm walkin' around like I'm Tyler freakin' Durden or something. Weird.

Finally started recieving Netflix movies again and I got the no-budget 'horror' flick Monsturd. Having read that it cost $3000.00 to make, and after reviewing the synopsis (serial killer escapes jail, falls into chemically altered sewer thus becoming a poop monster) I was sure that this movie would suck, but it seemed that it would be fun. Well I was half right. It did suck but it was not fun at all. I couldn't even finish it. After about half an hour (an Herculean effort) I started searching forward to see if there were any boobs or 'sploshuns, but nope, it just sucked. On a related note, is there a phrase or term for the act of searching forward just to see if there's boobs? I respectfully submit 'fast-pornwarding'. On another related note I've realized that I use 'crap', 'poop', or derivitaves thereof for many of my critiques. I avoided them here because I didn't want to say "Monsturd was a pile of crap", or "Monsturd was a real stinker" and therefore be Mr. Punny Pants.

I went car shopping and almost threw up. I talked to a guy whose nickname is 'Lumpy' and he seemed cool but the process of buying a car makes me queasy. I found a few cars I liked but I've had the same car for almost 12 years and it's hard for me to comprehend a car payment again. I didn't even come close to buying anything. Ugh. More on this as it develops.

I would write more now, but my laundry calls.

Laters