(diaryland) February 17, 2007 - 1:03 a.m.

Some guy checked me out yesterday. I know this because I could see the reflection of the event in a window as I was walking away.

I knew I shouldn't have used this leg de-hairing cream I saw an ad for on the TV. The lady uses it, and then she's trying to settle down, reading a book on the window sill. Suddenly, there's a flock of guys down below, staring up, smiling as if this kind of creepy shit is OK.

And so, now I know, the advertisment was very accurate.

Hey, right now I am watching an intense movie. It is named Finis Hominis.

a) A naked dude comes out of the sea and walks at people.
b) Naked guy gets clothed by gypsy style lady by a simple closing of an alarmingly long-nailed hand.
c) Naked guy, now clothed in the sort of garb found in Indian miniatures of the seventeenth century, walks across the road to the strains of Raindrops keep falling on my head, most probably illegally used.
d) An irresponsibly undetailed news bulletin.
e) I won't be able to get to sleep tonight. Deeply disturbed.

That's about all I've seen of the movie so far. Now the guy is healing people and there's an orgy. I'd better go.