Son of a...

I finished all my reading (turns out a bunch of laws are only made up to justify what society is already doing...who knew?), made some tea and a balogna sandwich (which, I pronounce "bloney sammich"), and sat down to leave through a magazine, see what's on TV for a half hour or so, and then early to bed in furthurence of my master plan to get up early tomorrow and have some coffee and croissant at the cafe 'round the corner and enjoy the general fruits of the new morning.
I came across a program on one of the higher-numbered channels that mentions the name Ingrid Bergman. And damned if I don't like me some Ingrid Bergman. So they are talking a little bit about her and her career and I'm wondering what this is. It turns out it's just the little bit before they show "Casablanca."
Son of a bitch!
I can't go to bed early now, I have to watch the movie. You can't not watch Casablanca. It's got easily 7 of the 10 best lines in movie history, and it's just damned compelling cinema.
Damned compelling cinema.