Geez, I almost forgot with all the cheetah excitement. Cheetahs are, incidentally, the new wolverines.

Movies!

The Day After Tomorrow: This movie is like that tidal wave that engulfs New York in the previews. You can't escape it. You damn well can't outrun it and like most of you, I feel like I'm drowning in this damn movie that I haven't even seen. FOX aired a 10-minute preview of the film during prime time, and the effects did look pretty spectacular, about as mind-blowing as Independence Day did back in the day. The tornados in L.A. are an especially nice touch. Still, this is a two-hour-plus movie and you can't just fill up all that time with CGI snow. There has to be a story in there somewhere. Remember Independence Day? That had aliens and Jeff Goldblum. From what I could gather from the 10-minute trailer, this movie has angry shouting matches between Dennis Quaid and The Man about global warming. He shouts stuff like, "Don't you understand, we have to DO SOMETHING! The only way to stop it is by (something)!" They don't quite tell you how they do that, but I'm guessing it's not by sending a computer virus into the clouds. There's been some ire raised (by, let's face it: girls) about Jake Gyllenhaal soiling his precious indie cred by appearing in a big-budget Hollywood film. Ladies: Jake is dating Kirsten Dunst. He lost his indie cred the minute he got into her expensive underpants. Homeboy's gots to get paid!

La Vie Promise: There were movie posters for this all over France and they show what looks like a heartwarming family or love story, but in fact it's about a cold hooker, her uncared-for daughter and the fugitive they meet on the run in the countryside. Basically it's Savannah Smiles for sad, bitter assholes. If you are a sad, bitter asshole, this movie gets two cigarette-holding thumbs up.

Raising Helen: To my readers: I sincerely apologize for half-heartedly enjoying How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. I realize that by doing this, I encouraged Kate Hudson to have a full and long career making schlocky, shitty Garry Marshall romantic comedies (or in this case, a sort of coming-of-middle-age "dramedy," a term even more dispicable than "Garry Marshall"). In essence, I was part of the problem. Please accept this mea culpa. From now on, I will try to be part of the solution, endorsing no film where the trailer would give off the exact same vibe if you put the song "Walking on Sunshine" behind it. Kate Hudson is neither cuddly not charming anymore. She's having sex with Chris Robinson's bony body. Think about that next time you want to rent one of her movies.

Soul Plane: Some people (including a lady from the Screen Actors Guild who has no room to talk because she used to be on In Living Color) say this film is racist and plays into stereotypes and what have you. Fine, Bill Cosby. Where's your new movie that hires lots of black actors, writers and crew, and that makes money for up-and-coming talent? Fat Albert? You've been working on that movie for like 30 years! Where is it? Until you're putting movies out there that are putting people to work and making stars out of people like D.L. Hughley, please do like you've been told and have a Jell-O Pudding Pop and shut the fuck up.

A Slipping Down Life: This movie was shot in Austin ages and ages ago and is finally being released. Lili Taylor and Guy Pearce are in it and it's based on an Anne Tyler book about a girl who carves a rock singer's name into her forehead. If this sounds like your kind of movie, you should write the funny description here because it sounds ghastly to me. And not the good kind of "Ghastly."

DVDs: We watched the fantastic, awesome, breathtaking City of God last night (me, my brother and his ladyfriend). Hoping to finish The Fog of War, Master & Commander and maybe watching the new edition of Reality Bites, a movie I'm guessing won't have aged very well in 10 years.

Dearest Annoying Person,

What happened to you?

You used to be cool.

All right, that's a lie. You were never that cool. Mostly, you made little silly jokes about TV shows you don't watch and gossipped about everyone. But you weren't annoying. Not yet.

Then -- you got mean and bitter, as if the world had hurt you and you were clawing back, not knowing that people were trying to help you with a blanket in the dark.

Did someone punch you, really hard, in the nose? I know I can be annoying when that happens to me.

Did you order something on Home Shopping that arrived broken and they wouldn't issue you a refund? That would suck.

Was your purse/wallet stolen? Did you have to wear a hip pack after that when you went on trips because you were afraid it would happen again? That's not a fun way to travel.

Did you go to Sea World and all the whales were asleep and the dolphins spat at you through the tiny hole in their heads? Did the water make you smell like chlorine all day?

Did you find a roach in your roast beef? Did you bite off an antenna before you realized what it was? Did you think the roast beef was just a little stringy and then later on you were mad at yourself for thinking that a stringy piece of roast beef could ever be that crispy?

People used to have normal conversations with you that didn't end with them wanting to rip your fucking head off and feed it to cheetahs. Hungry cheetahs. Because cheetahs are the fastest land mammal and nobody wants to wait around for some slow animal to finally get there and eat your head. Did you ever wonder why people around here keep bringing up cheetahs for no good reason? It's because they want to feed your head to cheetahs. Cheetahs don't just come up in conversation for no reason.

What happened to you? I really want to know. I think it was something bad and you'll probably feel better when you talk about it.

Unless it was sexual abuse or someone died. Then you should probably talk to a therapist instead of me.

Concerned,
Omar

I ran out of Allegra-D about three days ago. I had one tablet left and I saved it for Wednesday when I was scheduled to have a meeting with the publisher of the newspaper (it didn't go quite as I'd hoped: He didn't give me full and total ownership of the Austin American-Statesman. Dammit).

After that, I was tapped out and the earliest I could get an appointment at the allergy clinic (which if you live in Austin and suffer, you MUST visit. Help them help you) was today, so I had two days this week without any prescription allergy medicine. In Austin, that's like going out into the ocean abyss with 1/4 of an oxygen tank.

I made it through the week with some OTC stuff and extra sleep. Then, I went to the clinic and the kindly doctor gave me a brown bag full of goodies — samples of Allegra D, Flonaze (ah, sweet nasal nectar) and the superlative eye drops Optivar. Highly recommended if you have the health insurance.

Then, the doctor suggested I get a skin test.

An allergy skin test is where they bring out anything that you could possibly be allergic to and rub that shit on your skin to see if you get a nasty welt. That's how they roll: "Here. (rub rub rub) Welt? No? Good. We can elminate crabweed." The doctor described an allergic reaction as "a big red welt, like what you'd get from a bug bite."

As fun as that sounds, it only gets better: It takes about three hours. Three hours of getting grass and dust mites and pollen rubbed on your body to see when makes your arm go haywire. Fun. I can't fucking wait.

The other thing they do is offer allergy shots. Twice a week for the first few months, then once a week, then twice a month. FOREVER. It weans you, eventually, from allergy meds and the allergies themselves over time, but you never really escape. Meds or needles. Sneezing and aching and dripping or getting rubbed with pollen on purpose, then submitting to frequent stabbing.

I love Austin. Really I do.

L'il Floaty Omie Head on the day-to-day and the life-changing.

It all mixes together.

New Smallville recap is up! It's the season finale! Lots happens in the last five minutes!

... And Then Everyone Dies — Clark is attracted to the dark (Kryptonian) side by a girl who claims to be from his home planet. Meanwhile, Papa Luthor doesn't go soft in jail; he gets his head shaved and wreaks unholy revenge. Also, Chloe goes "Boom!," Bo collapses, Lana leaves for Paris, and Lex drinks poison. It's a whole season's worth of finales.

Woo hoo! Summer awaits!

I haven't been posting a lot lately because, well... because...

(lean in here a bit. I'm gonna whisper.)

Because I'm boring. Really really boring right now. Everything I'm thinking would make you yawn, what I'm doing outside of work these days would make you yawn even more and even my dreams have taken on a literalness that's more than a little disconcerting.

I've got some cute wedding stories, but I'd rather not tell those in short bursts. And still working on having more photos to post.

But otherwise? I'm boring. Look away! I don't want you to see me like this! Waaaaaah!

Matt, an editor at Useless Knowledge Webzine, is looking for contributing writers.

If you're never written anything for publication (online, or print) but have always wanted to, this would be an excellent way to get your foot in the door. Anybody who'd want to hire you to write something would want ot see clips, and these days online clips work about as well as print clips.

Visit the submission page for more info. Tell them Omar sent you.

How great was The Sopranos last night?

Even when you know something's coming, even when you see it foreshadowed a mile away, the show still manages to jolt you with unexpected nuance and surprises.

Wow. It makes you hate the rest of TV sometimes for not being as good.