Before I went to bed last night, I had semi-composed a rather maudlin post about my day and how topping it off with the two most depressing Verve songs ("The Drugs Don't Work" and "On Your Own") didn't cheer me up any. So, as I was laying in bed, trying to come up with a title involving the words "pity party" and "invitation," this bit of dialogue popped into my head:
Veronica Corningstone: Yes? What is it, Brick?
Brick Tamland: I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party.
Veronica Corningstone: Excuse me?
Brick Tamland: [struggling] The... party. With the... with the pants. Party with pants?
Veronica Corningstone: Brick, are you saying that there's a party in your pants and that I'm invited?
Brick Tamland: That's it.
Veronica Corningstone: Did Brian tell you to say this, Brick?
Brick Tamland: No! Yes. He did.
Veronica Corningstone: Okay. No. I don't want to go to a party in your pants.
Brick Tamland: Very well. Ian, would you like to go to a party in my pants?
Ian: No, Brick.
Brick Tamland: All right. Lets go.
I spent the next ten minutes laughing hysterically, and forgot most of what I was going to write.
Thanks to "Anchorman," you have a non-depressing post today, and my neighbours are probably wondering what the hell I was doing at about midnight last night.
