Snatch and grab

There are multiple iPhone thieves on the loose in Washington, DC. One thief approaches his victims and asks to borrow the phone. The victim hands the phone to the thief and then gets to see how fast a mugger can run. Another area thief snatches iPhones from Metro passengers: One moment you're listening to Lily Allen on the ride home, and the next moment your phone's been snatched. Faster than you can say, "doors closing," the thief and your phone are gone. (All Life Is Local, per DC Blogs)

About a year ago, I was standing outside Metro Center waiting to cross the street. It was about noon on a weekday and there were plenty of people around. So not being all that concerned about being robbed, I had my iPhone out and was checking my email or Twitter or something.

There were two teenagers near me: About 16 or 17, and wearing some fairly nice clothes. One of them noticed my iPhone and said to me, "Excuse me, sir? Can I use your phone for a second?"

"I don't see why not," I replied, and handed it to him. I guess he and his friend suddenly remembered they had somewhere else to be, because they immediately took off, forgetting to give my phone back to me. Honest mistake, I'm sure. I never did see those kids again, but I like to think that whenever they're by Metro Center, they keep an eye out for me so they can return my phone.

I'm kidding. I told him no. I mean, I was polite. I think my exact words were, "Sorry, no." Or maybe it was, "No, sorry." Either way, it's not like I didn't immediately realize what was going on. Nice clothes and crowded street or not, if I'd given him the phone, I likely never would have seen it again.

I was half-expecting the kid to keep trying to talk me into it, or maybe just try grabbing it and running away. Instead he just said, "Oh, really?" in a surprised tone of voice, like we lived in a world where it's perfectly acceptable to ask to use a stranger's phone, and I was the one who was committing the social faux pas by declining to give it to him.

So who knows? Maybe he really did need to call someone. Or check his stocks. Or had thought of a killer tweet that he wasn't able to send because of me, depriving all of his followers of a good LOL. But I'm not losing any sleep over the possibility.

Here's what I don't get, though: Who are these people who evidently are letting total strangers use their phones? More importantly, why?

Even with the annual influx of bright-eyed college grad optimists who want to change the world or some shit like that, D.C. is one of the most cynical places on earth. It's not like we're a city of Pollyannas who only see the best in people. So I can only think of three reasons why someone with even half a brain would loan their very expensive phone to a stranger.

1) Fear of being attacked. If some guy approaches you in a dark alley with no one else around and asks to use your phone, yeah, chances are you're about to be mugged. Inside of a Metro station--or in my case, right outside of one--with lots of people around, you're probably safe. (Probably.) At most, you're in danger of having it snatched out of your hand, but that's no reason to immediately surrender it without a fight. Tighten your grip, put it back in your pocket, whatever. But if someone wants your phone, don't make it so easy for him.

2) Fear of being considered rude. I ride the Metro every day. Based on my experience, I can't imagine Metro riders have a problem being rude to anyone, let alone, total strangers who ask to borrow expensive electronic devices. But I guess lapses in judgment occur, and people sometimes pick a really inopportune time to not be rude. Of course, after their phone is stolen, victims of theft probably become even ruder than they were before. Maybe that's why so many people on the Metro are assholes? Their phones were stolen, and they're taking it out on the rest of us?

3) Fear of not demonstrating an appropriate level of white, liberal guilt. No self-aware white person wants to be that white person. You know, the one who sees a black guy and immediately hides his iPod or clutches her purse closer to her chest. So maybe when a black teenager asks to use Joe Whiteperson's phone, Joe freaks out a little and figures out the best way to prove he's not a racist is to let the kid use it. Congrats, Joe Whiteperson, you're not a racist. But you are now without a phone.

The bottom line is, there's no reason to let anyone you don't know borrow your phone. Okay, fine, if you come upon a horrible accident and start doing CPR on one of the victims, it's permissible to loan a stranger your phone so they can call 911. But that's really the only scenario I can think of where it's okay to do so. Well, unless you need the exercise and feel that having to chase someone through a Metro station or down the street is the sort of motivation you need to get up off your ass. In that case, knock yourself out.

D.C. Comics: Infinite Crisis #2

As I've mentioned before, this blog was originally supposed to be more focused a lot more on comic books than it's turned out to. After all, even the name "The D.C. Universe" is a play on a comic book reference.

Then, not long after I started this almost five years ago (Jesus Christ, how have I been doing this for five years? It's a sad state of affairs that this blog qualifies as my most successful relationship), a couple of things happened: First, almost across the board, comics kind of started to suck, and it was often hard to discuss them without being overly-negative. Second, I found it was just more fun to talk about horror films and complain about people on the Metro.

But I've always tried to think of ways to write more about comics without resorting to doing regular reviews or feigning interest in the various goings-on in the comic book industry just to have something to comment on.

So I've come up with a new bit: D.C. Comics. Not DC Comics. D.C. Comics.

Washington, D.C. historically hasn't been a major hub of comic book activity. The Marvel characters almost all operate out of New York, and the DC characters mostly have their fictional cities like Gotham, Metropolis and Central City.

Sure, there have been some exceptions: Hawk and Dove went to Georgetown University. The JLA have their headquarters in Washington (although they rarely venture outside of it, and given that they have transporters, it's not like they have to take the Metro in). Wonder Woman lived here for a while.

But by and large, Washington, D.C. is just a place superheroes come to when there's a disaster to avert or to visit the president or something.

So I thought it would be fun and interesting to show the better instances where comic books and D.C. have intersected over the years. And of course, by that, I mean fun and interesting for me. I suspect most of you people who read this blog couldn't care less about comic books. But on the off-chance you also happen to find this sort of thing fun and/or interesting, well, I'm happy if you're happy.

Let's get started!

The Comic: Infinite Crisis #2 (2005)

The Set-Up: Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters (yes, this is actually the name of a superhero team) are investigating a supposed supervillain base of operations outside of Metropolis.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have occurred to them that the supervillains might actually be home. And waiting for them.

Black Adam. Sinestro. Bizarro. Deathstroke. Professor Zoom. The Justice League could have taken them. The Teen Titans would have at least put up a good fight.

The Freedom Fighters?

The next day at the Daily Planet...

Thoughts: Okay, so admittedly, almost all of the action took place in Metropolis, not D.C. In fact, the only part of Washington you can actually see here is on that TV set over Perry White's head. So maybe this wasn't the best comic to start this bit off with.

But come on, tying dead superheroes to the Washington Monument is a great villain move. And I have to admit, I do feel a certain sense of civic pride that when it came down to choosing a location to display their corpses, the Secret Society of Supervillains chose D.C., as opposed to, say, the Statue of Liberty or the Gateway Arch. This is why a good board of tourism is essential.

Effect on D.C.: Well, you have to figure the Washington Monument was probably closed for a while. I mean, it was a crime scene. And it just seems like it would have been the decent thing to do. I'm sure there was a memorial service at the monument. Maybe a plaque. But let's be honest: These weren't exactly A-list superheroes, and on top of that, they weren't even from here.

Are the fictional D.C. residents in the DC Universe sorry they're dead? Of course. Is it something that most of them dwell on? Even the ones who saw the bodies before they were cut down? Probably not. I'm sure that on every anniversary of their deaths, Jim Vance says something nice about them on the evening news, just because that seems like something Jim Vance would do. But that's probably about it.

Week Three NFL Picks

7-9 last week; 14-18 for the season

Tennessee at New York Giants (-3): Tennessee

San Francisco at Kansas City (+3): Kansas City

Detroit at Minnesota (+12.5): Detroit

Cincinnati at Carolina (+3): Cincinnati

Pittsburgh at Tampa Bay (+2.5): Tampa Bay

Buffalo at New England (-14.5): New England

Cleveland at Baltimore (-12): Baltimore

Dallas at Houston (+2.5): Houston

Atlanta at New Orleans (-3): New Orleans

Washington at St. Louis (+5): Washington

Philadelphia at Jacksonville (+3): Philadelphia

Indianapolis at Denver (+5.5): Indianapolis

Oakland at Arizona (-5.5): Oakland

San Diego at Seattle (+4): San Diego

New York Jets at Miami (-2.5): New York Jets

Green Bay at Chicago (+3): Chicago

Panel of the Week

From Nemesis #3:

The Washington Post: Champion of D.C. Drama Queens

If Richard Nixon were still alive, even he would think this was the worst thing the Washington Post had ever run.

On Saturday, Martena Clinton parked her Lexus outside the convention center to attend a Congressional Black Caucus dinner. When she returned, she was told that the Secret Service had it towed it away from the building as a security precaution since Obama was speaking there. When they tried to locate it, they weren't able to.

I'll get back to the story in a bit, but first, what's up with that photo? The caption reads: "Exasperated Clinton searches for car Sunday." So she was looking for her car and just happened to have the Washington Post there to document it? It must be nice to have a major media outlet come out and cover life's inconveniences.

And she's not looking for her car in the photo. She's posing like...well, I'm not sure what kind of pose that is. Was she told to do that? Did she need coaching from the photographer to achieve that level of pure anguish? "Marlena, think about dead puppies! Kids with cancer! Wait! Hold it! Right there! Perfect!"

If you couldn't be bothered to click on the above link and read the whole story, you might wonder why I have it in for some poor woman whose car was boosted by the Secret Service.

Here's the pertinent passage:

She displayed a handicapped tag prominently, locked her car and checked with a police officer who happened to be parked right behind her. He assured her the spot was legal. Clinton put her credit cards, cash and makeup in a pocketbook and left it in the trunk, carrying a small purse into the dinner. It was 5:30 p.m.

I know what you're thinking. "Oh, my God, she had her car taken and she's handicapped?!? You're an asshole!" Wait for it...

"I can't believe this," Clinton, 64, of Randallsville, Md., said in an interview Sunday morning. "I am the caregiver for my 95-year-old mother, whom I take to church every Sunday. The police did not put a record of the car in the system. It's a mess. . . . I am getting very upset."

Yes, she's 64 and she uses that car to drive her 95 year-old mother to church. No, I'm really not a monster. Wait for it...

Clinton has the handicapped tag because her husband suffered a stroke.

There it is. She fraudulently used her husband's handicapped tag because that was easier than driving around to find a legal parking place or taking the Metro. Let me know if you find the part of the story where the reporter asks her why she was parked there in the first place, because I certainly couldn't find it.

Now, even though she was illegally parked, I don't blame her for being upset her car was taken. But seriously...how is this journalism? A woman lost her car. Government bureaucracy was unhelpful. A few hours later, she got it back. It's not news. It barely qualifies as human interest.

I haven't lost a car to the Secret Service, but I've certainly had to wait for twenty minutes as they hold up traffic for presidential motorcades to pass by, and been snapped at for trying to walk down Pennsylvania Ave. while it was shut down. Should I have called the Washington Post to send someone out? Is there a hot line for that sort of thing? Or maybe a Washington Post Signal I can flash in the sky?

There's also this weird element of the story:

District police did not respond to a reporter's additional calls and e-mail requests for information.
...
When the police search failed to produce the car by Sunday afternoon, Clinton called a reporter to say her friend was driving her home. Tiggle was still urging a positive outlook.
...
"What?" Clinton asked, still on the phone with a reporter.

Who is "a reporter"? Based on the phrasing, I'm guessing it's not the writer of this piece. So who, then? Some other Postie who Clinton had on speed dial and could call up to complain? This wasn't treated as some minor fluff piece, either. It had prominent placement on the front page of the Post's website yesterday for several hours.

The entirety of my experience in journalism comes from having written the movie review column in my high school newspaper. And I never actually saw most of the movies I reviewed. So I clearly don't know much about journalistic ethics. But I do know that if you're a reporter and you get a phone call from a friend asking you to send someone to detail her bad day, maybe you shouldn't say yes. Or at least have the integrity to point out that she had it coming.

Devil

After Lady In the Water and The Happening, I'm not sure why anyone would give M. Night Shyamalan the money to produce a trilogy of films, and then let him give it a retarded, self-indulgent name like "The Night Chronicles." On top of that, it seems like a movie that takes place largely in an elevator would be hard for anyone to pull it off, let alone someone like Shyamalan, who apparently had just one or two good stories in him. But he and director John Erick Dowdle actually manage to do it.

Honestly, I got my money's worth just during the opening credits sequence, which features a series of shots of Philadelphia filmed from overhead, but presented upside down. It's surreal and disorienting and absolutely gorgeous. Fortunately, the opening credits are backed up by a tense thriller with a twist that's more The Sixth Sense than Signs.

Spoilers follow...

Anyone who went into this thinking that the mystery of "Which one of these people in the elevator is the Devil?" was the most important part of the movie, was probably disappointed. With only five possibilities, it was going to come off as a bit predictable no matter who it turned out to be. But when it was revealed, I thought it still came as a decent shock. Not so much in that it turned out to be the old woman--I wasn't fooled by her "death"; I knew it was going to either be her or Geoffrey Arend's character--but the creepy way it was presented, with her rising up, eyes black, and looking about as bad-ass as an old woman can.

A movie I've always thought was really underrated is The Trigger Effect, which shows what happens to people when their safety net is removed and the standard rules of civilization cease to exist. The situation in Devil, being trapped in an elevator for a few hours with total strangers (before everyone start dying) isn't quite as dramatic, but it's still interesting to watch as tempers flare and people do their best not to freak out. You don't see many supernatural thrillers that also handle the non-supernatural thrills as well as Devil does.

I'm not sure how much of the film's mythology regarding The Devil's Meeting actually exists, and frankly, I'm too lazy to even Wikipedia it, but it sounded really good. It would have sounded even better if most the exposition had been delivered in some other way than by the annoying security guard/narrator. Another review I read of this film suggested that Chris Messina's detective character should appear in the other Night Chronicles films, linking them together. I'd personally rather the Devil show up. We didn't get much of him/her/it/whatever here, and I think they could do more.

My only one real complaint about Devil is that it should have opened a month from now, when everyone's really in the mood for horror films. It seems like it would have been even more enjoyable then. But as it stands, it's still a great film, and hopefully a sign that Shyamalan 's getting his mojo back.

Script: B+
Acting: B
Gore: C-
Overall: B+

Summer Movie Scorecard - Final

Have Seen:

Toy Story 3: A
Inception: A-
The A-Team: B+
The Last Exorcism: B+
The Other Guys: B+
Survival of the Dead: B+
Iron Man 2: B+
Predators: B
Piranha 3-D: B-
MacGruber: B-
Salt: C+
The Expendables: C
Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time: C
Knight and Day: D+
Jonah Hex: F

Week Two NFL Picks

7-9 last week; 7-9 for the season

Kansas City at Cleveland (-3): Kansas City

Buffalo at Green Bay (-13): Buffalo

Baltimore at Cincinnati (+2.5): Cincinnati

Pittsburgh at Tennessee (-5): Tennessee

Philadelphia at Detroit (+6.5): Philadelphia

Chicago at Dallas (-7): Dallas

Tampa Bay at Carolina (-3.5): Tampa Bay

Arizona at Atlanta (-6.5): Atlanta

Miami at Minnesota (-5.5): Miami

St. Louis at Oakland (-3.5): St. Louis

Seattle at Denver (-3.5): Seattle

Houston at Washington (+3): Washington

Jacksonville at San Diego (-7): San Diego

New England at New York Jets (+3): New England

NY Giants at Indianapolis (-5): Indianapolis

New Orleans at San Francisco (+5.5): New Orleans

Panel of the Week

From Brightest Day #10:

Look out!

The new trailer for Saw 3D came out last week. I'm not going to lie. I'm really looking forward to it. Saw VI was shockingly outstanding, and while part of me would be happy to see a new Saw film every October for the next fifty years, it seems like now's a good time to wrap up the series. Although, as Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter and Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare taught us, advertising a horror film as being the last in a franchise is not legally binding.

Watching the trailer, though, I noticed something that really annoyed the hell out of me.

It starts off great! There's saws! And people screaming! And Jigsaw! Then, instead of showing us more saws and screaming and Jigsaw, the trailer inexplicably cuts away to a fake movie audience watching Saw 3D in order to show us what 3-D is, as if we don't understand what this strange new technology is.

Is this supposed to impress people? "Hmmm...Saw 3D. I dunno. The trailer looks okay and everything, but maybe I'll wait for the DVD and...holy shit! It was filmed in state of the art 3-D?!?! I'm there!"

And again, not true. Unless James Cameron directed this thing and then spent a couple of years in post-production like he did with Avatar, I'm not sure how you can call this "state of the art." A Five Guys cheeseburger is pretty good, but considering that there are better, more expensive cheeseburgers out there, it's not like Five Guys could get away with calling theirs the gold standard of cheeseburgers.

Worse, we have these stupid bits:

Get it? In a 3-D movie, it's like you're actually part of the film! Stuff flies out of the screen towards you! Someone might pick you up and pull you right into the movie! (Where, since it's a Saw film, you'll presumably be tortured to death.) You could even be impaled by a harness of spikes! You probably should have checked the back of your seat before you sat down, huh?

Of course, the reality is going to be far more disappointing. And because the people who are inclined to go to Saw 3D have undoubtedly seen low budget 3-D horror movies before, they're not being fooled. So why oversell the experience? Piranha's 3D effects weren't all that hot, and the filmmakers obviously knew that, so instead of trumpeting how awesome and immersive it was, they just threw in a lengthy 3-D sequence of two naked women swimming underwater and trusted that we'd all go home happy. And it worked!

Like a lot of filmgoers, I consider 3-D a scourge that's going to ruin lots of perfectly good movies and mainly just serve as an excuse for theaters to jack up ticket prices even more. But I also accept that it's here to stay, and horror movies, more than any other kind of film, won't be able to resist using it. But for God's sake, don't advertise it like it's the second coming. Hopefully, one of those nut jobs who file frivolous lawsuits against movie studios will go to Saw 3D, be disappointed by the complete lack of deadly saws shooting towards him, and sue Lionsgate for millions, so this sort of gross false advertisement never happens again.

Election Day

Over the past four years, Mayor Adrian Fenty has:

-- Improved D.C. schools

-- Improved city services

-- Lowered the crime rate

-- Brought back the fedora

All good things. Especially that last one. Yet, today, he's probably going to lose the Democratic primary to Vincent Gray, which is essentially the same thing as the general election in D.C. And he's going to lose because he's a jerk. Or arrogant. Or an arrogant jerk, depending on who you listen to.

The local media, even the outlets that are often critical of Fenty, have all endorsed him. The Washington Post, the Examiner, City Paper...if there's a major media outlet that's come out in favor of Gray, I've missed it.

Here's how the Washington Post addressed the jerk factor in its endorsement:

He has made mistakes. Some were just silly, such as his refusal to share baseball tickets with D.C. Council members. His political enemies have overblown others, such as the fuss over the planned donation to the Dominican Republic of a fire truck that turned out to be virtually worthless. However, secrecy about his travels, an almost pathological unwillingness to consult outside his inner circle and the awarding of a few suspect contracts to friends raise unsettling questions about his judgment. Like many others, we've wondered why the mayor would allow stubbornness to endanger the good work being done by his administration. We understand that Mr. Fenty's determination to shake up the status quo was bound to provoke antagonism. But you don't have to be aloof or highhanded to move fast.

I wrote about the baseball ticket incident last year. And I truly believe that it, more than any other factor in regards to Fenty's public image problem, is why he's going to lose. There's something about a guy who won't share that offends everyone's sensibilities, regardless of their race, religion, or economic class. We all knew that one kid back in kindergarten who wouldn't share his toys. Who knew he'd grow up to be mayor?

Here's what I don't get, though: Everyone acknowledges Fenty's a jerk. In his campaign ads, even Fenty acknowledges he's a jerk. Yet various pundits immediately follow that up with why it doesn't matter and that only what Fenty's accomplished as mayor over the past four years--which, to be fair, is pretty impressive--should be taken into account on Election Day.

But why?

I mean, this isn't simply a case of a demanding boss. There legitimately seems to be something wrong with the guy. Temper tantrums. Cronyism. Firing people for political motivation or worse, seemingly on a whim. (Remember how a couple of days after winning the mayoral election four years ago, he fired his campaign spokesperson over the phone for wanting to take a little time off following the election?) Is this really someone with the temperament to be running a major city?

I don't have kids, so I won't even get into whether Michelle Rhee is the best D.C. public schools chancellor ever or a monster, but I do think it's distressing how Fenty refuses to issue even mild public criticism of her.

And let's be clear, it's not like Fenty's running against Marion Barry. Or some teabagger. I have no idea if Gray will be a great mayor, but is there any reason to think he'll be a bad one? I don't think so. If you're looking mainly to punish Fenty, Gray's not a bad guy to be casting a ballot for.

Honestly, I don't really care who wins. Either way, it's a Democratic mayor, and life in D.C. will largely be unchanged. And after Fenty gets over the embarrassment of losing, he'll go on to make a lot of money in the private sector or accept a cushy job with the Obama administration, so don't break out the violins for him.

But this might be the one and only time voters get to send the message to a high-profile public servant that it's not okay to get into office and start acting like, at best, an autocrat, and at worst, a raging asshole. And it seems like a pretty valuable lesson to teach. If Fenty wants to run again in four years with a new perspective on governing born from losing this election (as opposed to his current campaign ads where he simply promises to change), he's welcome to.

For now, though, I hope Vincent Gray becomes the next mayor of D.C.

The blinds side

Late last year, I decided that I had too much money and too much health, and ramped up the one expensive, unhealthy vice that I indulge in, aside from comic books: Smoking cigars.

I went from having one or two every couple of months, to one or two a week. (Which occasionally becomes three or four a week, depending on if it's nice out or how much stress I happen to be under.) Unfortunately, this decision coincided with the start of winter and cold temperatures and various snowpocalypses. You ever try smoking a cigar in 30 degree weather, wrapped in multiple layers, desperately puffing away to stay warm? It's not fun. So it took a while before I could really dive into it.

When it did warm up, I finally started to take advantage of having a balcony after mostly ignoring it for years. I'll sit, smoke, and catch up on Twitter or blogs or whatever on my iPhone. Or I'll just stare out into space. This has far and away become my favorite pastime. It's incredibly relaxing and a great way to unwind after a long day. (Especially when there's also alcohol involved.) There are days at work where it's all I can do to just make it home so I can zone out and float away on a billowy cloud of cigar smoke.

Of course, this one...one...perfect thing in my life couldn't not be ruined by something stupid.

About 30 yards away from my balcony is another apartment building. Specifically, the bedroom windows of those apartments. From my vantage point, there are three bedrooms on three different floors that I can see more-or-less directly into when their occupants have their blinds up.

And they almost always have their blinds up.

Based on what I've seen--and just to be perfectly clear, I really have no choice as to which direction I'm facing while sitting on my balcony, unless I want to turn my chair around and stare at a wall or into my own apartment--here are basic descriptions of the residents in those apartments.

Bedroom #1: Hot girl

Bedroom #2: Some dude

Bedroom #3: Hot girl

If I were a peeping tom, I'm sure I'd love this set-up. Well, 2/3s of it, anyway. But honestly, all I want to do is smoke my fucking cigar, have a couple of beers, listen to that week's Ron & Fez shows or Big O & Dukes on my iPod, and forget the real world for a couple of lousy hours. Anything that gets in the way of that, hot girl or not, is an unwelcome distraction.

Over the past few months, these have been my experiences with the people in these apartments.

Bedroom #1: One night, I was sitting outside, and the girl and her boyfriend entered the bedroom. They started making out. "Oh, come on..." I muttered, and averted my eyes. I counted to ten, and then added an extra five just for good measure, and when I finally did look straight ahead again, I was certain that they would have closed the blinds or at least turned the lights off. Nope. They were now on the bed, and even though my view mercifully wasn't as good now that they were horizontal, it was pretty clear they were having sex. The dude really seemed to be into the missionary position. Lucky girl.

I basically had three options at this point: 1) Put out the cigar and go inside. But cigars aren't cheap. Why should I have to throw away a perfectly good $9 La Flor Dominicana just because my neighbors are idiots? 2) Go inside and finish it. Except I don't want my apartment reeking of cigar smoke. 3) Sit there and be uncomfortable. I went with option #3. For the next several minutes, I looked everywhere except straight ahead. When they finally finished, that's when they turned off the lights. It's happened once more since then. I hate them.

Bedroom #2: The guy who lives in this apartment seems to love keeping his blinds open, even at night. Unlike my other neighbors, he actually notices me sitting on my balcony. And whenever he sees me, he gives me a dirty look as if I'm out there just to spy on him, and indignantly closes his blinds. Then, once I've finished the cigar and gone back inside, he'll open them again. Who re-opens their bedroom window blinds at 10 o'clock at night? Isn't that a sign of someone who actually wants to be spied on?

Bedroom #3: This is the most perplexing one of all. The girl who lives in this apartment moved in about a month ago, and as far as I can tell, she never closes her blinds. Never. I'll see her on her computer. I'll see her reading a book. I'll see her dancing around her room. I'll see her in her underwear. I'll see her out of her underwear, too. In case you're wondering, yes, she's over 18. But, uh...probably not by a whole lot.

And, you know, on one level, it feels as though that as a guy, I should probably be enjoying this. But since I'm not living in a Cinemax movie, it's fucking awkward to have it happen right in front of me, and not be able to clear my throat and say, "Excuse me, miss? Do you know I can see you? And your breasts?" Even when she isn't naked, it's awkward. In fact, it somehow seems more intrusive to watch her doing something mundane like simply laying on her bed reading a book. At that point, it feels like voyeurism just for the sake of voyeurism, if that makes any sense. Even when said voyeurism isn't intentional.

At first, I didn't think too much of it. I guess I just figured that before too long, she'd notice me sitting out there and get a clue. Especially since when she's sitting at her computer, she's facing my balcony through her window, so she should be able to easily see me. But it hasn't happened. I mean, I'm almost positive she's seen me. She just hasn't taken the next logical step and closed her fucking blinds as a result of seeing me.

A couple of nights ago, she was in her bedroom with some guy. All they did was talk. At least, that's all they were doing when I was out there. But after what happened with the other apartment, the whole time I was smoking, I was mentally begging two people I didn't even know to not start having sex in front of me. Needless to say, in America, this isn't something anyone should have to do. Maybe in France. But not America.

So I'm kind of at a loss.

Do I walk over to her building and leave an anonymous note on her door asking her to close her blinds? That seems like something an 80 year-old woman would do.

Does she know I can see into her bedroom and just not care? Should I sit back and enjoy the show? That seems weird. And maybe a good way to get a visit from the cops if I'm wrong.

Do I continue to do what I've been doing, which is to make a concerted effort not to look straight ahead and into her bedroom window? No matter how unfair this is to me and my smoking experience?

It seems like there's really no way for me to come out of this with both a satisfactory conclusion and my self-respect intact.

Whatever. I'm really envious of you people who hate your neighbors because they play their music too loud or don't pick up after their dogs. If anyone wants to trade, just let me know.

Panel of the Week

From Batman and Robin #14:

Week One NFL Picks

Last season: 138-129

Minnesota at New Orleans (-5.5): New Orleans

Carolina at New York Giants (-6.5): Carolina

Miami at Buffalo (+3): Miami

Atlanta at Pittsburgh (+2.5): Pittsburgh

Detroit at Chicago (-6.5): Chicago

Cincinnati at New England (-4.5): Cincinnati

Cleveland at Tampa Bay (-3): Cleveland

Denver at Jacksonville (-2.5): Denver

Indianapolis at Houston (-2): Houston

Oakland at Tennessee (-6.5): Tennessee

Green Bay at Philadelphia (-3): Green Bay

San Francisco at Seattle (+3): San Francisco

Arizona at St. Louis (+4): Arizona

Dallas at Washington (+3.5): Washington

Baltimore at New York Jets (+2.5): Baltimore

San Diego at Kansas City (+4.5): San Diego

Panel of the Week

From Red Hood: The Lost Days #4: