At the risk of shattering your illusions about my massive popularity and and social gadabout ways, I will confess that I spent my Saturday evening alone watching Smokey and the Bandit. Don’t cry for me, I’m already dead.
I spent *my* Saturday night alone, watching Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. Which is a lot like Smokey and the Bandit, except with more frontal male nudity and maybe one or two additional racial slurs. Does that make my life less pathetic, or more so?