Days till Our Thanksgiving: 6
Days till Thanksgiving: 17
I woke up this morning with a horrible, gut wrenching feeling of foreboding and danger. I rolled over, glanced beside me, and shrieked in bone deep terror. Yes, I realized that it was indeed Monday, and it wasn't just a bad dream that I had to get up and once again pretend to be a productive member of society. Fuck Mondays.
This was (as the title so aptly states) the Weekend of a Thousand What the Fucks. Let me start at the beginning:
What the Fuck #1: Transformers
Okay, so... I really wanted to hate this movie. Like I really wanted to hate this movie. I'd spent the better part of the last few months making fun of Kristyn for wanting to see it, and telling anyone that would listen that not even Shia "Golden Boy" LaBoeuf and Megan "Porn Star Face" Fox could save it. I mean, seriously - it's a movie about transforming robotic aliens. I'll buy a lot of things, but alien, robotic children's toys starring in their own feature length action film was really pushing it.
I woke up this morning with a horrible, gut wrenching feeling of foreboding and danger. I rolled over, glanced beside me, and shrieked in bone deep terror. Yes, I realized that it was indeed Monday, and it wasn't just a bad dream that I had to get up and once again pretend to be a productive member of society. Fuck Mondays.
This was (as the title so aptly states) the Weekend of a Thousand What the Fucks. Let me start at the beginning:
What the Fuck #1: Transformers
Okay, so... I really wanted to hate this movie. Like I really wanted to hate this movie. I'd spent the better part of the last few months making fun of Kristyn for wanting to see it, and telling anyone that would listen that not even Shia "Golden Boy" LaBoeuf and Megan "Porn Star Face" Fox could save it. I mean, seriously - it's a movie about transforming robotic aliens. I'll buy a lot of things, but alien, robotic children's toys starring in their own feature length action film was really pushing it.
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On Friday night we went to the Reds to watch it, and I was all ready to start mercilessly mocking everything about it. But... I didn't hate it. Quite the contrary, actually. Even Megan Fox and her impressive gambit of pout faces couldn't ruin the movie (even if her cleavage was heaving at every possible moment.) I do believe the writers and producers and the director sat down and said "Okay people, we're making a movie based on children's toys; children's toys that are transforming robots from outer space. Transforming alien robots from outer space, people. Obviously, we have to make audiences know just how aware of how absurd we find this. Good? Let's get that Even Steven's kid in here and get rolling!"
The movie was funny, and (thankfully) didn't take itself too seriously. Sure, there was lots of "blow 'em up" scenes, and enough action to keep the guys happy, but there was a lot of humor and a lot of absolute ridiculousness. I really wanted whatever that little robot thing was, the one that kept cackling and stealing all the government's information. It kind of reminded me of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. Just on speed.
Even the acting was good, considering, again, it was a movie about robotic alien transformers from outer space. So, I have to admit, I was surprised by how much fun the movie was, and I have to stop bashing everyone for liking it. Damnit.
What the Fuck #2: Target's Christmas Onslaught
I'm a firm believer in the Holiday One Month Rule, which clearly states: "Thou shalt not put out decorations for a holiday that is in advance of one month; Thanksgiving decorations shall not be on display until November 1st; Christmas decorations - on punishment of death - shall not be on display until the fourth Friday of November." We need solid time for decorating and getting ready between holidays, which means that when stores start pimping their Christmas regalia before Halloween is even over, their general managers should be promptly hung, drawn, and quartered before a cheering, screaming crowd.
The movie was funny, and (thankfully) didn't take itself too seriously. Sure, there was lots of "blow 'em up" scenes, and enough action to keep the guys happy, but there was a lot of humor and a lot of absolute ridiculousness. I really wanted whatever that little robot thing was, the one that kept cackling and stealing all the government's information. It kind of reminded me of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. Just on speed.
Even the acting was good, considering, again, it was a movie about robotic alien transformers from outer space. So, I have to admit, I was surprised by how much fun the movie was, and I have to stop bashing everyone for liking it. Damnit.
What the Fuck #2: Target's Christmas Onslaught
I'm a firm believer in the Holiday One Month Rule, which clearly states: "Thou shalt not put out decorations for a holiday that is in advance of one month; Thanksgiving decorations shall not be on display until November 1st; Christmas decorations - on punishment of death - shall not be on display until the fourth Friday of November." We need solid time for decorating and getting ready between holidays, which means that when stores start pimping their Christmas regalia before Halloween is even over, their general managers should be promptly hung, drawn, and quartered before a cheering, screaming crowd.
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Erin and I made a Target/Old Navy/Best Buy/Shopper's run on Saturday morning, and from the moment we stepped into Target we knew we were in trouble. The Christmas decorations were out in full force, and from every shelf came the shrill scream of the ceramic Santas, the wire reindeer, and the colorful Christmas baubles aligned in neat, color-coded rows. It was like stepping into the bowels of hell. I was expecting a plethora of turkeys and cornucopias, since it's still early November, and Thanksgiving is clearly the next holiday in our Holy Quadriad of Year End Holidays, but no. Christmas had cannibalized the weaker holiday.
I was hell bent on ignoring the tinkering Christmas carols, and the shiny, gleaming Santas, reaching out with open hands, promising me endless happiness and contentedness if only I'd purchase tree ornaments for $1.99, or tapered candles for $1.59, or the temptingly sinful candy cane shaped candy dish, lusciously begging to be placed on my coffee table for the devastating price of $1.00. I was above that - I was a Holiday Warrior. Guerrilla style tactics like that don't work.
Only they do, because somewhere between Home Goods and Electronics, I blacked out, and 20 minutes later, Erin and I were the proud owners of not one, but two plastic, light-covered, chest-high Christmas trees. I don't remember buying it, but when I came out of my stupor, there they were, nestled in our carts, peering up at us with innocent, inquisitive fake pine branches.
I think I was chloroformed by Christmas.
What the Fuck #3: The Big Hunt
Now, I previously posted that The Big Hunt's reputation as a "human meat market" was not only vaguely disturbing, but an entirely untrue assessment of the vermin crawling between its walls. Admittedly, I was so drunk the last time I was there that I wanted to tear my stomach out, flush it out with water, and never drink again, so I thought it would be a good idea to go back there on Saturday night to get a better feel for the place. What I learned is that I should always trust my drunk judgment: More cleavage is always better, it's perfectly acceptable to chew on strangers' necks in full view of my friends' cameras, and The Big Hunt is full of the cities' ugliest people.
I was hell bent on ignoring the tinkering Christmas carols, and the shiny, gleaming Santas, reaching out with open hands, promising me endless happiness and contentedness if only I'd purchase tree ornaments for $1.99, or tapered candles for $1.59, or the temptingly sinful candy cane shaped candy dish, lusciously begging to be placed on my coffee table for the devastating price of $1.00. I was above that - I was a Holiday Warrior. Guerrilla style tactics like that don't work.
Only they do, because somewhere between Home Goods and Electronics, I blacked out, and 20 minutes later, Erin and I were the proud owners of not one, but two plastic, light-covered, chest-high Christmas trees. I don't remember buying it, but when I came out of my stupor, there they were, nestled in our carts, peering up at us with innocent, inquisitive fake pine branches.
I think I was chloroformed by Christmas.
What the Fuck #3: The Big Hunt
Now, I previously posted that The Big Hunt's reputation as a "human meat market" was not only vaguely disturbing, but an entirely untrue assessment of the vermin crawling between its walls. Admittedly, I was so drunk the last time I was there that I wanted to tear my stomach out, flush it out with water, and never drink again, so I thought it would be a good idea to go back there on Saturday night to get a better feel for the place. What I learned is that I should always trust my drunk judgment: More cleavage is always better, it's perfectly acceptable to chew on strangers' necks in full view of my friends' cameras, and The Big Hunt is full of the cities' ugliest people.
The bar was crawling with 40-something women jammed into mini skirts, white tights, cowboy boots, and leopard print spandex of questionable origin. I've never seen so many ugly people crammed into one tiny space, and believe you me, I've been in a lot of scary places before. This was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. Beer bellies and crimped hair prevailed, and even the under 30 crowd was full of the dredges of the earth. I'm assuming the recent rain puked them up into the gutters, and, disoriented and in need of warming alcohol, they stumbled through the front door of the bar and never left. I suppose if, when I went outside, I was chased by villagers brandishing pitchforks and torches, I wouldn't leave the premises either.
What the Fuck #4: 30 Days of Night
So I finally - finally - went to see 30 Days of Night. Erin and I battled cabin fever by trekking out to Chinatown to the Gallery Regal Theaters to finally indulge our Vampire tooth (uh...) and finally see the infamous tale of a clan of bloodsucking beasts with heinous teeth (I'm assuming they were originally British) unleashing their doomsday abilities upon the very poor, very freezing, very dark town of Barrow, Alaska.
I should probably mention that Barrow doesn't actually have 30 days of darkness (they have 60-70 days of semi-darkness, in which the sun hovers at the horizon between 12-4pm), and they don't have a "Last Call!" flight that, if missed, strands potential victims in the barren wilderness for an entire month (Alaska Airlines has a daily to/from Barrow flight so that no one is actually driven to insanity up there during the winter months.) However, if these details were applied to the movie, it wouldn't have been all that thrilling, so moving on!
98% of the movie was freaking fabulous. The vampires didn't have time for pansy romantic stories (sorry Gary Oldman's Dracula, you know I'd still do you ten ways to Sunday, but you're really far sexier than you are scary), they didn't brood and lament on their own immortal existence, and they sure as hell didn't have brooding, romantic affairs with blond, bubble gum Slayers that spit out so many pop culture references that it makes you physically sick to your stomach. Instead, they were total bad ass killing machines, hell bent on destroying the entire town and feasting merrily on the inhabitants, before lurking off into the night and making sure that humans still believed them to be nothing more than nightmare creatures (much like Paris Hilton's family originally tried to do with her.)
Josh Hartnett was sufficiently in over his head yet strong, the gore was great, the music was awesome, and the camera work was really, really good. Towards the end of the movie, I was ecstatic, as it's not often a horror movie I've been dying to see really lives up to all the hype and expectations.
However, everything changed at the end of the film, in which the directors clearly started celebrating their achievements too early, and got too drunk and too stoned to continue thinking coherently. It was like they were boasting more and more outrageous ideas, and finally picked the most ridiculous of them all, cracked up and patted themselves on the back for a job well done, and proceeded to destroy the end of the movie. David Slade and Sam Raimi, I was expecting more from you.
Of course the ending didn't stop me from crashing at Erin's place, since I was convinced vampires were going to come bursting through my window and eat me alive. I mean... since I was very tired and didn't feel like trekking back in the cold to my apartment. Which is about 2 feet away from Erin's. Right. Exactly. Moving on, people!
So, that was my weekend. I actually went on a date on Saturday night, which was quite enjoyable, but for once I feel it is inappropriate to discuss such matters over a public forum. No, not because I lived up to my reputation as a cheap floozy, but because I have some level of decorum and appropriateness. Seriously, I swear.
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