I’m about to watch an award winning film, but this is what I’ve been thinking about. Hopefully I won’t say anything out of line.

Million Dollar Baby

A million dollar baby? Well.

I have to say, that’s a pretty expensive baby. I mean, I know you want it and all, but let’s just consider for a second now.

After all, a million dollars is a lot of money. You could buy a lot of things with a million dollars. Are you sure this baby is what you want?

I mean this doesn’t even really look like a million dollar baby. Sure, maybe a hundred thousand dollar baby. Maybe even a five or seven hundred thousand dollar baby, if its hair wasn’t messed up so much. But a million dollars? I’m not so sure.

And this is a big investment, too. Are you sure that money won’t be better off in the stock market? What kind of percentage rate does this baby grant you? Think it could clear at least six percent? And what about in the long run? I’d say the market could probably back you up on at least seven or eight percent in the next eighteen years. Think this baby can match that kind of ROI?

Think of what else you could do with a million dollars now, before you go doing anything rash. You could buy four hundred expensive cars. You could buy 900 iMacs. You could feed like two million of those poor kids in Africa. You could buy a million bags of Fritos Flavor Twists! And then pass them out like some kind of Flavor Twist Fairy! That’s at least like two hundred million little Flavor Twists, man. Are you sure you want to pass up all that flavor, just for this baby?

Ok, if you say so. But don’t tell me I didn’t say anything. It’s your money, you can do with it what you want. But a million dollars is a lot of money. I mean, a million dollar baby?

I have to go grocery shopping, and I’ve had to do so for about a week.

I don’t know why I always seem to put it off. I like wandering the aisles of the grocery store, taking in all the colors and words and messages and deciding what to buy and what would be obscene for me to eat by myself and what’s cheap and what I will buy only because it’s funny. I enjoy the rickety carts whose wheels turn every which way but forward, and that little child seat that folds out, and the fact that someone somewhere decided it would be a good idea to put advertising on the inside front panel of the cart. I don’t think that’s ever worked with me.

(Though I look forward to the day when someone decides that should be a video screen. Imagine the accidents! Cleanup on aisle 6!)

But for some reason I always put off going. “I have food,” I think. “There’s that chicken that’s been frozen in the fridge for months, and that can of stuff that I’ve had sitting back in the pantry because I since decided I don’t like the taste of it. I’ve got gobs of those 25 cent noodles left, though I don’t really want to eat them because that would mean I’d have eaten them for a week. And then there’s all that shredded cheese.” I bought tons of the stuff hoping to make quesadillas, but it turns out I didn’t have enough tortillas. I have the same problem with cheese for sandwiches. Either I buy too much bread, so I’m sitting around with sandwich insides and no bread, or the other way around.

I try to give myself little incentives to go. If I go, I promise myself, we can stop by that Blockbuster near there, and pick up that video you wanted. Or we can run by the Gamestop and see what’s new, maybe finally pick up Prince of Persia (which I’ve wanted to play for years but never bought).

But then I decide that I don’t need to spend the money. Or that I’ve got enough movies at home. Or that I don’t need to go.

And I end up sitting at home eating cheese melted over ramen. Or the can of stuff from the pantry that tastes bad.

And I swear to myself, tomorrow. Tomorrow. I’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow.

Question of the Day

Has anyone else noticed that Ryan Reynolds is going to be in an inordinately large amount of upcoming movies?