God... I'm at work, and apparently some kid left his bike outside without locking it up in the bike rack.  So the security guard goes up to kids in the library asking who left their bike outside without locking it up.  One kid goes, "Oh, that's mine," takes off, jumps on the bike, and rides away.

 

Oh, please, please, please, let this be exactly what it sounds like.  Because last night and today have pretty much sucked, and I need a reason to smile.

 

Oh, and I hear that the new King Arthur movie is supposed to blow.  Considering it was written by acclaimed writer David Franzoni, writer of Gladiator, which I thought was just okay, and directed by Antoine Fuqua, acclaimed director of Training Day (no interest in seeing it), Tears of the Sun (no interest in seeing it) and Replacement Killers (so-so wannabe John Woo), I'm not surprised.  I had sort of wanted to see it myself, but all it's got left at this point, in terms of appeal, is Clive Owen, who I can see in the BMW Hire films, Keira Knightly, who I can see in just about ever movie made in England in the past two years, and Ioan Griffud, who I can see in the Hornblower movies on A&E.  So...