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In Chicago

About to sit down to an excellent dinner of “soupy chicken,” a ravishingly simple concoction of my father’s that involves lightly breaded chicken breasts on rice soaked in broth with mushrooms and other accoutrements. For the evening, Emily requested a movie night, so we’ll be watching “300″ and “Babel,” back-to-back.

I’m gonna see a lot of pecs and glassy-eyed stares before this night is over. Thanks, Em.

At least I’ll get to see a lot of fast-slow-fast King Leonidas action with pseudo-heavy metal drop-D tuned riffs. I like my action movies just like I like my Chevy commercials: with Persians being impaled amid overbearing soteriological motifs.


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