Thoughts I has before I sleep

TULILUUUU!!

Wehweh weeeehhhh.

TULILUUUU!!

Wehweh weEEEEh.

TULILUUUU!!

Weh, wehwehweh...

Think Clint Eastwood. The Wild, Wild West.

The mosquito and I faced each other across the dusty town street. Faces peered at us from the mirrors all along the buildings that made up this hick little pitstop of Le Bedroom. That's right. The French named it. I spotted the bartender wiping a space into her grimy little rearview to catch a glimpse of the epic battle that was about to happen.

A tumbleweed blew forlornly in the hot summer sun, unaware, unassuming of the carnage that was to ensue.

I spat tobacco onto the ground. It formed a hard little dark ball, sheltering itself from my icy steel gaze, which was now fixed on my unworthy opponent.

'Skeeter,' says I, in a voice hewn by blood and sand, 'Le Bedroom ain't big enough for the both of us.'

Skeeter humphed. It was a well known fact that Skeeter never, ever talked. He just played dirty. Real dirty. And when he got mad, he got a look in his eye that said something was about to fly.

'Now we can do this the easy way, where you turn right on around all peaceful-like and keep walking, or we can-'

ZZZZZT!!!

The cheating bloodsucker hit me! His bullet-like proboscis sliced off an arm of my shirt, and before I could react, another jab zinged me right under my left eye.

'You...you filthy, no good lying son of a gun!'

ZZZZTTT!

I was mad, now. I heard a collective gasp when I pulled out my secret weapon. I call her Wrath. She's a beaut. 2010 model, fits like a glove in my hand, and never. Ever. Misses a mark. But Skeeter should've known better than to mess with the fastest hand in the West.

'Feel!' I raised my baby into the air, the sun and my arm forming a perfect halo around my vengeful head.

'My!' I didn't even need to aim. My slipper rang true as my arm moved like lightning and-

'WRATH!'

And that's how Skeeter McSting met his match, on that hot, but cold, day, with a lime green Bata slipper and a badass mamajama.

TULILUUUU!!

Wehweh weeeehhh...

tSN

P.s. I has thirst.

Book & Film: Film Review - Safehouse

There may be a teensyweensy spoiler at the end. Just stop when I tell you to stop. No means no.

Can I just begin by saying that EVEN NOW,I would be willing to do tasty things to the ever-fine Denzel Washington (who,if you haven't guessed why I'm talking about him by now,is in this movie). And you can't tell me nothing. He ain't never done nothing to his beautiful face.

Next,Ryan Reynolds,who stole my youthful heart in Van Wilder. Sigh...who doesn't like a smart aleck superhero with fear issues? Hands down.

Ryan Reynolds is a housekeeper for a safehouse for the CIA,i.e. where criminals and/or CIA folk are brought when they need...um...safekeeping. All he wants is a chance to prove himself (cue violins),which he gets when the CIA's most infamous rogue agent,Tobin Frost (one of those Shaka Zulu-like names that makes you feel scared,nicely) is brought to his house. After an attack on the house,he must decide for himself which side he's really on,and which side is really right.

Stop reading here if you haven't watched it,unless masochism excites you.

It reminds me of Smoking Aces,a lot. Ryan gives an excellent performance (we're on a first name basis,don'cha know) and Denzel really can't be anything but stellar. It gets 3 stars,though less exciting than Mission Impossible (but still lots of action for the violent folk. A really COOL badass kill scene as well. That sounds wrong,doesn't it.) and more intriguing than Immortals (better plot,though a tad predictable),which I also gave 3...hmmmm. But there you have it.

tSN

p.s. Guess what I did this week...

A tale of two prayers

I'm not what anyone would really call a praying woman. I admire it in others,though. In fact,there was a point I wanted to get a rosary to encourage me to become said woman. I am,however,of the school of thought that believes God helps those who help themselves. (like the idiot in that story about the guy stuck on a roof in a flood,praying for God to save him,and a boat passes,and a plane,and...um...a skydiving rescue team,and he refuses their help because God is going to save him,and drowns,and at the Pearly Gates he asks why he wasn't saved and God is like dude,I sent you a freakin skydiving rescue team...but I paraphrase)

So I was in a bus,right,on my way to a hot,sexy date (with my hot,sexy niece) (cough) and I observed a movement out of the side of my eye. I spy with my little eye a cockroach crawling into the hair of a woman nearby. I freeze,paralyzed with horror and disbelief. My moment of grave indecision,though brief,then causes me to not do anything at all. At my inaction, I am appalled. But then I begin to contemplate,can I really stay in this bus that is in such a state? I decide to be tough,strap on a pair,because the roach,after all,is all the way over there. The conductor comes up to me to ask me for fare,and I proceed to hand it over with nary a care then alas! I dropped the coin,and down it went. I refused to be a victim of money not spent. I bent down to find it,then lo and behold,another roach appeared! One more cocky,and bold. I froze once again,then moved my lips in prayer: ''Dear Lord,if you can,take this bus of suffering from me,for everywhere I look,a critter I seem to see.'' Then I paused,and thought about the aforementioned tale,and quickly I stood up,all hearty and hale,and said ''God,I know it's not your style to throw us what we can't handle,as such,but dude,me I can only take so much!!'' I got off the bus,and walked to my date,bug free,prayerful and only slightly late.

Can I get an Amen!

tSN

p.s. I hear 20th is going to be an Imax cinema. So many relationships of mine have been broken and built on those steps lol. I hope they don't pull some idiocy and charge a k a movie.