At least I am. Is there anything worse than suffering through a hangover at work? No, I declare, no, there is not. Especially since I no longer work for a company that’s so old school it has PMS cots in the ladies’ rooms' foyers. (Is that correct construction? Oh who cares.) The fact is, I used to avail myself of their elementary-school-nurse comfort regularly. Now what do I have? An office, yes, but no place to become horizontal, unless it’s on the floor and well, the floor don’t look too hot. But, when it’s all you got, it’s all you got.
In celebration of the blasting headache I have, I have come up with a contest:
Name the most pointless scene in a movie ever (judged by me) and win something (picked by me).
For example (and now you can’t use this one): The volleyball game in Top Gun. What was its purpose? How did it further the plot? Not one iota, I tell you, not one.