Netfluck

The Mrs. and I finally broke down and joined Netflix. We watched Wet Hot American Summer last night, and if its excellence was any indication of our Netflix experience, I might as well quit my job and take up moviewatching full-time. Crash is up next, with 41 more silent films, French classics, and documentaries (though no silent French documentaries, as far as I know) in the queue.

Only when the Red Sox are on the West Coast can I schedule a bachelor party, play six rounds of Dance Dance Revolution, eat a delicious meal, apply for a j*b, and watch an entire movie before prying my eyes open through three innings of dingers.