ass-lazy tropicana of the mind
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2001-12-10
Two movies and some craftiness...
Sometimes all I ask for is a half hour to write in my journal without interruption. During my lunch break. Is that too much to ask for?
Yeah, yeah, I need to stop bitching. I know. It just sort of happens naturally. Especially on a Monday.
So yesterday, we went and saw Jay & Silent Bob Strikes Back, which was dumb, but funny as hell. Getting all the Kevin Smith references really helps, of course, but there are twenty million other obscure references and cameos in there to get.
I just about fell over laughing during the Scooby Doo bit, though. Marc Blucas with a hideous blonde wig and saying "Fuck" a lot was...oddly attractive. I can't explain why. And he makes such a better Freddy than a certain son of a Prinze...
And the Velma-like character started talking about girls! I knew it! I knew I wasn't the only one that knew that Velma was a very. big. dyke. I mean, just look at her! Big sweaters, black frame glasses, lots of brains, later on runs a bookshop...she's so obviously a lesbian menace in kneesocks.
So after me cackling hysterically over that, then Eliza Dushku showed up.
Gah.
Gibber.
Wow.
Is she totally and utterly the single most amazing creature in all of Hollywood? Yes. Would I, if given the opportunity to meet her, fall over dead in sheer joy? Yes. Should she star in more movies where she's given the opportunity to wear skintight black vinyl and grab her breasts? Yes.
Why, yes, I am painfully and exquisitely shallow. But Jesus Christ, she's fantastic.
So I gibbered over that for awhile, as I was meant to, and then watched the rest of the movie, which had many a joke about Hollywood.
And it was good, I guess, but if I want intensely vicious and glorious Hollywood comedy, I just watch Action. Which works without having to resort to fart jokes.
We also saw The 51st State, which was an intensely good, if slightly brainless, action movie, as it should be. Samuel L. Jackson is 100% badass motherfucker. There's no way around it, and God bless 'im for it.
It was a terribly fun movie and I just generally had a blast, even though I guessed the plot twist about halfway through. Robert Carlyle was obviously having fun making the movie, and the sex scene in the bathtub, replete with squeak toy, that was hilarious and classy at the same time.
But, generally, Samuel L. Jackson is a badass motherfucker. And seeing his fine fine ass on the screen made it even more fun and made me declare him a badass motherfucker even more so. He's gone into capitals, even. He's a Bad Ass Mother Fucker. The Bad Ass Mother Fucker.
(and how many times can I say "badass motherfucker" in one section? Oh the world will never know...)
So both movies were imminently watchable, but when it comes down to it, I think I preferred The 51st State. But I know I'll more than likely purchase the DVD for Jay & Silent Bob Strikes Back first.
If only for the freeze/zoom option. Oh yes.
So while we were waiting for our movies to start, we kept on going into the cinema store, our little junkie hole of choice. They had a 3 for �20 on movie soundtracks and a 2 for �20 on DVDs, so, y'know, we had to buy something. And throwing in Angel cards and BtVS stickers, well, that was just an added bonus.
Bought the Angel Top Trumps game, but refuse to believe that Angel is the smartest card there. No way in hell is he smarter than Wesley or Cordelia. And there is no Gunn, which is wrong in a way I can't describe because there is an Alonna and a Virginia. And what the hell are you doing with Gunn's sister and Wesley's bit on the side if you have no manly man Gunn?
So I have soundtracks for The Gift, The Mummy Returns, and Planet Of The Apes, which lets me fulfill my Danny Elfman addiction rather nicely. Mmmmmmmm....Elfman...
And all the BtVS stickers are eventually going onto my day planner, in a very careful fashion, being that I have this strange giant collage starting up. I picked up some decoupag� scissors for dirt cheap at a craft shop, and it means I can cut out people a lot easier.
Which makes me feel kinda good, 'cause everyone else I know has very elaborate crafts that they do. I know people who do obscene amounts of counted-cross-stitch (which, no offense, but I got burnt out on that when I was living with my grandmother. I once counted 50 freakin' pieces on the wall in a two-bedroom house. 50!), I know people who knit, I know people who make corsets...
I paint little metal fantasy soldiers and cut out Buffy stickers. Hey, it's a start.
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