On Tuesday, I watched The Pursuit of Happyness. Normally, I wouldn't pay to watch such a movie, but I was with a bunch of my family and they wanted to watch it, and I didn't really care. I just wanted a big bag of Reese's Pieces. So I sat down for a couple of hours, drank down about 3 gallons of Mr. Pibb, ate all of the nachos, and then started in on my delectable bits of peanut butter candy in a hard shell. I had no idea that I was supposed to feel something during this period of time. Apparently, the movie was heart-warming, or heart-touching, or something of that nature.¹ Something about hearts and feelings were involved. I'm not really sure, as I've been keeping mine on ice for a the last couple of years. It helps with the freshness.²
One good thing about the movie is that it addressed the misspelling of happiness. Thank GOD. If there was no explanation for this blatant error, I wouldn't be sitting here writing this entry. Instead I would be in the local jail being held for some kind of crime against the public. Perhaps destruction of property for tearing down the screen. It could have been assault with a deadly weapon after tracking down all involved in the movie and then bludgeoning them all with dictionaries. I don't know. All I do know is that I was very close to having to learn how to make shivs and iron panties to keep my new cell mate "Rosie" out of them.
That was a close one.
¹ I never got that memo.
² I should check and make sure the Ziploc is holding up all right.