We are fire. We are stone.

We’re the hand that writes and quickly moves away.

So much DIO. So little time.

I’d like to start out today’s post by wishing a very Happy Birthday to Cass Attack aka the Mitts. Be sure to wish her one as well.

So the Ultimate Warrior died. That blows. I need to call Sweetbread to see how he is taking it. Rest easy, bahrutherrr.

On a happier note, have you seen the trailer for Chef? It looks awesome. And plenty of familiar faces to make you smile. Check it:

It looks interesting. Glad to see Favreau got the band back together for some food porn. Cuban food is no shawarma, but I’m intrigued nonetheless.

Yesterday was another day of organizing and Masters of Sex. Only two episodes during breakfast and lunch. What can I say? I like to eat while watching Lizzy Caplan act.

Today is Thorsday. Bring on the love. Jesus is expecting me in a little while, but first I’ve got to go sweat to the oldies. Tonight, I sleep the sleep of a thousand dreams. Valhalla, I am coming.

See ya’ tomorrow.

More soon. ~SC