I just finished watching The Night Listener. Sigh. I'd say that this movie, in a mashup with Notes On A Scandal, as directed by Hal Ashby, pretty much sums up my life these past couple of years. I was ripped off big-time by Janna St. James, perhaps for a shorter period of time than her Fogelberg quarry, but fucked more emotionally, since I had to deal with the death of "Jesse." At least with Dan Fogelberg she was somewhat tethered to reality, which is probably why she just made up the next dreamboat for big sucker me. She also got far more tangible goods out of me than the last lot. She's obviously honed her skills. She'll probably get a fuckin' car out of the next victim.
Blah. Vomit.
Blah. Vomit.
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