Yes, yes, another crappy week of NFL picks. I went 7-7 to bring my total futility rating up to 66-52. Lucas did a not-too-much-better-but-still-better 8-6, bringing him to 81-37. I am 15 games behind him. That's more than a week of games.

The washing machine upstairs has a turbocharged engine. When it goes into the "spin cycle", it cycles so fast that it violently shakes the machine in such a way as to cause the floor to shake, making an evening doing laundry feel like one of those old Godzilla movies where the monster takes a step and causes an earthquake.

As Anime Amy mentioned, we took in an evening of hockey at Webster Groves Ice Arena on Sunday night. Sadly, the Blast lost the game (I still think #13 was a ringer), but they're getting better and soon they'll be back to playing their old arch-nemeses the Eagles, who they played in every game of the regular season and playoffs last year.

And now the big news: Often times I use this webspaces to rant about television commercials. To this point, my complaints haven't had much of an impact, since Coors Light is still broadcasting their skimpily-clad twins and that annoying country singer still caterwauls about Ford trucks. But that ends now. The Festival has scored 4 tickets to a night of Television Preview, where I and three of my friends (if you're interested email me, as I may have an extra ticket or two. First come first serve, no guarantees) watch a number of prerecorded television programs and commercials that are being considered for next season and then proceed to offer our comments and criticisms of them. It all happens on Sunday night at 7:30, so keep watching this space for a full review of how I impose my will on the television-viewing public.