I thought I would begin this post by stating that I want to be a DJ. This was a fact made even more prominent by attending my (FIRST EVER) New Jack night last week. The DJ did a tip top (ooooh, he's the top, he's the tip, he's the championship/he's the most tip top/Top Cat!) job (not one, not two, but THREE Sisqo tracks! I creamed.) It was awesome. I want to be a dj.
I also went to the doctor's. This is what happens when you decide you are young enough to go around in dresses that have cleavage to your knees. What happens, you ask? You get a chest infection. FROM NOW ON, I will be the chick at the rave in a scarf and a damned poloneck (I already have the Chick Drinking Tea At The Rave base covered). Starting next month.
Few things annoy me because I am passive aggressive, but some things, in the words of Bikozulu, just get my goat. (he. He.) Unfortunately, my got is also rather passive aggressive, so the blog posts only happen a week or so later when I have stewed for week and done nothing except, well, blog. For example, my caretaker.
My instant heater has stopped working, and therefore I am using the kettle to take up-country-like baths. So I call the caretaker and he tells me I have to find AND PAY FOR the electrician to fix it. Now, I don't know how things work in this Adulthood Oh-I-Pay-Rent world, but according to my logic, the landlord should pay for repairs. I am not the landlord. Why does he want me to pay? It is not like I somehow ripped electrical cables out of the wall, or had a wild drunken party that resulted in inexplicable activities (read ripped out-cables). Why is the CARETAKER, he who STILL has not fixed my bulb, telling me to do so in a rude, unseemly, disrespectful, and - I just got a distinct whiff of - misogyny? Yes. I did. OH NO HE DIDN'T.
He told me to call my brother so that my bro could explain to him how 'things work around here'. So I did. My brother was not happy with Mr. Caretaker Man. I dare say he won't be bothering me again, the little prick. The irony is that the Skiza tune on his phone is a gospel song. NKKKKKKT. Few things piss me off more than hypocrisy, specifically that special breed of religious hypocrisy.
Which reminds me. I went to the doctor's, right? I figured while I was there getting healing and drugs (Drugs Are Your Friends), I may as well, you know, ask her, you know, something else that has been bothering me, you know, *whispers* down below. Because that shit is important. And when shit hits the fan...that shit CRAY. (Rolls on Floor Laughing)
She says to me "Oh, that's nothing to worry about. It's probably just technique." I laugh, because, you know. It's funny. Right?
Then she says, "But aren't you too young for that?" My inner goat began to bleat a loud warning. The passive aggressive (other) goat shushed it because it was stunned. And when I and my goats are stunned, we tend to go into Automatic Pilot Mode, engaging in Politeness until something - either the incident or I - go away. So I squirmed and smiled.
AND THEN she says, "Maybe it's a sign from God telling you to stop."
THIS HEIFER!
I laughed, nodded, smiled. She said, "You don't believe a word I am saying, do you." You THINK, heifer? You THINK?
Sigh. It's not that she had an opinion. It's that she felt the need to share the opinion WITH me. When I had not asked for it. When it was completely uncalled for, not to mention unprofessional? And then to wrap that up in a pretty WWJD package? WTF? Yeah, maybe you are too young to...be lying. Or coveting your neighbour's Benz. Or doling out your religious views outside your place of worship.
It didn't get my goat, it got all my damn livestock. GTFOH.
tSN
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Because I am famous and because I have said so, so it shall be. I may also want a Persian cat, and a trailer, to house my burgeoning entourage.
Nothing like a teency,weency mention from Bikozulu to make me famous (again), ha. Ah, Biko. So good to me. Lol. WELCOME, NEWBIES! Yes, because I know you're there. Yes, Blogger.com has stats that show me up-to-the-minute...um...stats...about who you are, what browser you're using to find me and what search words you used to do so. I got the POWER! (cue running man. If you were born after 1991, don't bother figuring out the reference. POW!)
So clearly, the more famous I get, the more rambly and long-winded. The price of...fame, I guess. (Did you NOT see that one coming? Have you NOT read the URL above?) With the teency, weency mention also comes much pressure. I looked at the last time I posted (yeah, I know) and angry tweets from @untonyto, who sounded positively anguished (autographs outside. Ok, I'll stop) and decided, perhaps it was time.
What's been happening? OMG, where to freaking begin. The last post indicates that I left you all on the tenterhooks (I just used that word in a normal sentence. I'm destined for greatness lol) of suspense. Be easy. Nothing happened. Haven't you ever done anything for the sake of the experience, and not because there was a chance that what you were doing may actually end up being what you end up doing for a while to come? Yeah. That was the case. (like when you go to get tested for HIV and you are OH SO SURE that there is NO WAY you have ANYTHING...but by the time you are getting the prick, you're like, maybe the metal that scratched me on the matatu and left that huge bleeding gash was somehow...maybe the mosquito last night was so insistent because...maybe the ONE TIME...by the time you are waiting for the results, you are planning how to live positively. Which is great. But more often than not, you're hyperventilating and/or talking in a voice that sounds like you've inhaled helium, and you are fine.) There was not a chance, but nonetheless, for future reference, there was NO BABY. You will NOT find a child of mine 18 years from now forging swords in a blacksmith shop (who just finished Game of Thrones, Sn 1? I DID.) Still taking mapplications (the quaint and convenient meshing of man and applications. There's a word for that that I cannot be bothered to look up at the mo.) << *really long paragraph*
Speaking of mapplications, sigh. The Man Front is a hard place to be. C is making a re-entry (but that is a WHOLE other post, and this one has gone on for a bit already). There was a brief fling with Jetson, who seemed promising, but was a summer bunny and thus destined to break my...um...heart...so Jetson was a passing plane that crashed and burnt. Unfortunately, because he was kinda foxy doe. And charismatic. And dark. I like my men the way I like my...night? Stallions? Evil villains in novels? I'm not sure where I am going with this.
Also, I HATE THE CARETAKER IN MY BUILDING. He is, without a doubt, a certified annoying prick. If there was an award for certified annoying pricks, he'd've taken the award six times. Ki-Adele. I think his favourite pastime is to switch my water on and off. Just for kicks. Because it's free. A revenge plan is in the works. *rubs hands together in a gleeful yet sinister manner* This is the dude who tells me I have to find my own fundi for the light in my room. Like I'M the caretaker. WHICH I'M NOT! *woosah* No lights in my bedroom means I almost didn't see the roach on my dresser. Yes, roach. Yes, I TOO do not understand why it was there frolicking about in my things. Like I cook in my bedroom. Like I cook, PERIOD! *sprays Doom and rushes out to write a blogpost* *also, Baygon doesn't work at ALL*
So, yes. Nothing yet. Oh, wait. There was that fun, cheery Nomads Unite post, about Wolverine (The Ex). There's a story brewing there as well. Was the whole point of this post to say keep it locked *throws up gang sign like a cool veejay presenter a la Teroo/Emukule* *they don't ever do that, do they* *reasons I am not a Coca Cola veejay, sigh*, or to get @untonyto off my back? To prove to the world that I can still do it? I am still A GENIUS? To pass time as insecticide seeps into the walls of my room? To have an excuse to watch How I met your mother? To catch Sheep?
We'll never know.
ION, the chick in the Jik ad who sings the Mandoza song...I love that Mandoza song. *TEN! TeteteTEN! TeteteTEN! TeteteTENTENTENteteTEN!!*
tSN
So clearly, the more famous I get, the more rambly and long-winded. The price of...fame, I guess. (Did you NOT see that one coming? Have you NOT read the URL above?) With the teency, weency mention also comes much pressure. I looked at the last time I posted (yeah, I know) and angry tweets from @untonyto, who sounded positively anguished (autographs outside. Ok, I'll stop) and decided, perhaps it was time.
What's been happening? OMG, where to freaking begin. The last post indicates that I left you all on the tenterhooks (I just used that word in a normal sentence. I'm destined for greatness lol) of suspense. Be easy. Nothing happened. Haven't you ever done anything for the sake of the experience, and not because there was a chance that what you were doing may actually end up being what you end up doing for a while to come? Yeah. That was the case. (like when you go to get tested for HIV and you are OH SO SURE that there is NO WAY you have ANYTHING...but by the time you are getting the prick, you're like, maybe the metal that scratched me on the matatu and left that huge bleeding gash was somehow...maybe the mosquito last night was so insistent because...maybe the ONE TIME...by the time you are waiting for the results, you are planning how to live positively. Which is great. But more often than not, you're hyperventilating and/or talking in a voice that sounds like you've inhaled helium, and you are fine.) There was not a chance, but nonetheless, for future reference, there was NO BABY. You will NOT find a child of mine 18 years from now forging swords in a blacksmith shop (who just finished Game of Thrones, Sn 1? I DID.) Still taking mapplications (the quaint and convenient meshing of man and applications. There's a word for that that I cannot be bothered to look up at the mo.) << *really long paragraph*
Speaking of mapplications, sigh. The Man Front is a hard place to be. C is making a re-entry (but that is a WHOLE other post, and this one has gone on for a bit already). There was a brief fling with Jetson, who seemed promising, but was a summer bunny and thus destined to break my...um...heart...so Jetson was a passing plane that crashed and burnt. Unfortunately, because he was kinda foxy doe. And charismatic. And dark. I like my men the way I like my...night? Stallions? Evil villains in novels? I'm not sure where I am going with this.
Also, I HATE THE CARETAKER IN MY BUILDING. He is, without a doubt, a certified annoying prick. If there was an award for certified annoying pricks, he'd've taken the award six times. Ki-Adele. I think his favourite pastime is to switch my water on and off. Just for kicks. Because it's free. A revenge plan is in the works. *rubs hands together in a gleeful yet sinister manner* This is the dude who tells me I have to find my own fundi for the light in my room. Like I'M the caretaker. WHICH I'M NOT! *woosah* No lights in my bedroom means I almost didn't see the roach on my dresser. Yes, roach. Yes, I TOO do not understand why it was there frolicking about in my things. Like I cook in my bedroom. Like I cook, PERIOD! *sprays Doom and rushes out to write a blogpost* *also, Baygon doesn't work at ALL*
So, yes. Nothing yet. Oh, wait. There was that fun, cheery Nomads Unite post, about Wolverine (The Ex). There's a story brewing there as well. Was the whole point of this post to say keep it locked *throws up gang sign like a cool veejay presenter a la Teroo/Emukule* *they don't ever do that, do they* *reasons I am not a Coca Cola veejay, sigh*, or to get @untonyto off my back? To prove to the world that I can still do it? I am still A GENIUS? To pass time as insecticide seeps into the walls of my room? To have an excuse to watch How I met your mother? To catch Sheep?
We'll never know.
ION, the chick in the Jik ad who sings the Mandoza song...I love that Mandoza song. *TEN! TeteteTEN! TeteteTEN! TeteteTENTENTENteteTEN!!*
tSN
Thursday, February 2, 2012
What did YOU do this week?
So I bought a pregnancy test.
Did you know that a test is 100 bob? It costs a hundred bob to find out if you are having a baby, 50 bob for 3 condoms, 30 bob for the daily pill and 120 for a morning after pill. I feel...is not getting pregnant becoming too easy? Lol.
It was so cheap I began to shuku its vibes. Was it from China? No, it said made in Canada. Which means they made it in China and wrote Canada? *shrugs*
It came in a thin little plastic thing that looked like a nail file sleeve. For real. So I went home and looked at it, and read the instructions like 4 times. It said, Do not use if test is not at room temeprature. Make sure sample is also at room temperature. (Sample. Ha.) Make sure the sample level is below the 'maximum' line on the test. But if you can't open the test to check the line, then how do you know how much to pee?
I didn't have anything to put The Sample in. I am not going to tell you what I used. Not because I have sensibilities, but because you probably do. Just know I did throw it away after use. :o)
I watched The Good Wife as I waited for The Sample and The Test to cool. That Eli Gold...me gusta.
So I carefully rip open the fragiley (does that word exist? Do I care? Who am I, and what is my purpose in this world?) encased test. AGH! The maximum line is like TWO MM UP! Damnit!!! *spill spill spill* Still? Damnit! *spill spilll* Ok. Breathe. Still room temperature? Have my sweaty hands RUINED THIS FOREVER!!??*reads instructions once more*
*says fuck it*
*dumps test in The Sample*
*waits*
tSN
Did you know that a test is 100 bob? It costs a hundred bob to find out if you are having a baby, 50 bob for 3 condoms, 30 bob for the daily pill and 120 for a morning after pill. I feel...is not getting pregnant becoming too easy? Lol.
It was so cheap I began to shuku its vibes. Was it from China? No, it said made in Canada. Which means they made it in China and wrote Canada? *shrugs*
It came in a thin little plastic thing that looked like a nail file sleeve. For real. So I went home and looked at it, and read the instructions like 4 times. It said, Do not use if test is not at room temeprature. Make sure sample is also at room temperature. (Sample. Ha.) Make sure the sample level is below the 'maximum' line on the test. But if you can't open the test to check the line, then how do you know how much to pee?
I didn't have anything to put The Sample in. I am not going to tell you what I used. Not because I have sensibilities, but because you probably do. Just know I did throw it away after use. :o)
I watched The Good Wife as I waited for The Sample and The Test to cool. That Eli Gold...me gusta.
So I carefully rip open the fragiley (does that word exist? Do I care? Who am I, and what is my purpose in this world?) encased test. AGH! The maximum line is like TWO MM UP! Damnit!!! *spill spill spill* Still? Damnit! *spill spilll* Ok. Breathe. Still room temperature? Have my sweaty hands RUINED THIS FOREVER!!??*reads instructions once more*
*says fuck it*
*dumps test in The Sample*
*waits*
tSN
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Nomads Unite.
There is something uniquely terrible about the instant you realize, with complete certainty/clarity, that he is going to leave you, and no miracle that you (or a shaman. Ok, maybe a shaman) could perform can change that. Before the raging storm that is your tears, the quick and never fully encompassing psychoanalysis with your friends, before the aching loneliness (which you assume will come, because everyone always says it will. Aching’t it?).
It’s a quiet. Like a desert waiting to swallow the dunes of sand softy undulating over its waist, hiding a dozen deathly traps you must navigate to get to the next oasis. This barren, desolate wasteland is the breakup, and the oasis is supposedly, healing. You know it’s out there (again, because everyone says it is), but why does everyone assume you want to get to it?
What if you like the desert’s fiery climate that causes your lips to crack in pain in protest? What of you enjoy the blisteringly cold nights? What if you want to go in the other direction from whence you came? No one actually likes a desert, right? What if the lush and gorgeous terrain you hail from made sense, and you honestly don’t think there could be a land more beautiful than the one you left?
You still feel surprise when he walks out the door, because you thought somehow your love would be enough, had to be enough. (By the way, apparently, it never is. But what would I know, I’m in a desert) You thought that somehow his mind would change, because your mind definitely wasn’t going to. You thought that if you bought him this, or did that for him, he would stay. You’ve watched too many movies about the ultimate sacrifice and people being together at all odds (and ironically, for the movies that don’t turn out like that, you always think those girls are idiots for thinking that they could change him) and you were hoping that would be you. It isn’t. And you cannot seem to comprehend that there is a life…without him. (Which, you FULLY realize is incredibly stupid, because life’s a bitch, and it will force you to move on, even if you really, really don’t want to. Against your best wishes, you will not wither and die because you are now alone/lonely/single, and he will not come back because he has watched you cry. You probably just wanted him to see it so that he fully understands how deeply this hurts, because everyone knows, you’re not a crier)
You try and figure out how this oasis will be reached. Shall you magnify his flaws so that you forget his love? Set him up with someone else? Revenge fuck? Become a nun? Drown yourself in series and work until the automatic pilot you are operating on becomes you again, and you are able to semi-feel, semi-live, semi-love, a gradual journey to full-fledged reality and general over-himness?
He makes a joke as he leaves your heart in tattered, raggedy pieces, and you realize he is well on the way to this so-called oasis. You can’t help but hope that he will be miserable without you (even though that logical, ANNOYING voice in your head laughs in disbelief at your infantile faith that he cannot live without you) and 20 years from now, he will come back crawling (lips cracked) for a great blowjob and some great love. And then there is numbness, then normalcy, then nothing.
Then you blog, and wait.
tSN
It’s a quiet. Like a desert waiting to swallow the dunes of sand softy undulating over its waist, hiding a dozen deathly traps you must navigate to get to the next oasis. This barren, desolate wasteland is the breakup, and the oasis is supposedly, healing. You know it’s out there (again, because everyone says it is), but why does everyone assume you want to get to it?
What if you like the desert’s fiery climate that causes your lips to crack in pain in protest? What of you enjoy the blisteringly cold nights? What if you want to go in the other direction from whence you came? No one actually likes a desert, right? What if the lush and gorgeous terrain you hail from made sense, and you honestly don’t think there could be a land more beautiful than the one you left?
You still feel surprise when he walks out the door, because you thought somehow your love would be enough, had to be enough. (By the way, apparently, it never is. But what would I know, I’m in a desert) You thought that somehow his mind would change, because your mind definitely wasn’t going to. You thought that if you bought him this, or did that for him, he would stay. You’ve watched too many movies about the ultimate sacrifice and people being together at all odds (and ironically, for the movies that don’t turn out like that, you always think those girls are idiots for thinking that they could change him) and you were hoping that would be you. It isn’t. And you cannot seem to comprehend that there is a life…without him. (Which, you FULLY realize is incredibly stupid, because life’s a bitch, and it will force you to move on, even if you really, really don’t want to. Against your best wishes, you will not wither and die because you are now alone/lonely/single, and he will not come back because he has watched you cry. You probably just wanted him to see it so that he fully understands how deeply this hurts, because everyone knows, you’re not a crier)
You try and figure out how this oasis will be reached. Shall you magnify his flaws so that you forget his love? Set him up with someone else? Revenge fuck? Become a nun? Drown yourself in series and work until the automatic pilot you are operating on becomes you again, and you are able to semi-feel, semi-live, semi-love, a gradual journey to full-fledged reality and general over-himness?
He makes a joke as he leaves your heart in tattered, raggedy pieces, and you realize he is well on the way to this so-called oasis. You can’t help but hope that he will be miserable without you (even though that logical, ANNOYING voice in your head laughs in disbelief at your infantile faith that he cannot live without you) and 20 years from now, he will come back crawling (lips cracked) for a great blowjob and some great love. And then there is numbness, then normalcy, then nothing.
Then you blog, and wait.
tSN
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The first cut is the deepest
January is basically over, and I have holes in my ears. The year began with a bang (he. He.), result being that a lot of things have changed in my life. For one, my hairdo. For two, at the ripe old age of 23, I pierced my ears. For the first time.
You see, the thing is, I don't do permanent things if they're not relationships. Earrings, tattoos, babies...you get the drift. But I decided to take the plunge, a lot because people keep giving me earrings and I felt it was a sign. (the first pair of earrings that were ever given to me were by one of my best friends in class 7. Best, and apparently she didn't notice I didn't have holes. Doh.) Also...they're pretty.
BUT THEY'RE SO FREAKING IRRITATING. Honestly I don't know if I would have still done it if I knew then what I knew now...which is that THEY'RE SO FREAKING IRRITATING. I pick up my phone and they *plenk* on my screen. I keep thinking something is crawling on my ear. Cleaning it stings. I want a ticket to the Bahamas. (I figured if I'm whining, might as well throw them all in there. Telling the universe and all) How do babies DO THIS! And yes. I am saying I have less of a threshold for pain THAN A BABY. Ain't no shame in my anasthesia-wanting game.
tSN
You see, the thing is, I don't do permanent things if they're not relationships. Earrings, tattoos, babies...you get the drift. But I decided to take the plunge, a lot because people keep giving me earrings and I felt it was a sign. (the first pair of earrings that were ever given to me were by one of my best friends in class 7. Best, and apparently she didn't notice I didn't have holes. Doh.) Also...they're pretty.
BUT THEY'RE SO FREAKING IRRITATING. Honestly I don't know if I would have still done it if I knew then what I knew now...which is that THEY'RE SO FREAKING IRRITATING. I pick up my phone and they *plenk* on my screen. I keep thinking something is crawling on my ear. Cleaning it stings. I want a ticket to the Bahamas. (I figured if I'm whining, might as well throw them all in there. Telling the universe and all) How do babies DO THIS! And yes. I am saying I have less of a threshold for pain THAN A BABY. Ain't no shame in my anasthesia-wanting game.
tSN
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tiny black leeches.
And of course the first thing I thought was 'Damnit,I don't have painkillers.'
I walked into the salon - yes,you read that right. I too was surprised. - and instantly felt like the newest kid on the block. Dude. Salons are such an exclusive like for a specific community. Everyone knows each other. They've been coming here for years - obviously because they're into pain - and all who dare darken their doors are destined to be dragged into the dens of disapproval - when they see my hair - and detachment - because I'm not ONE OF THEM. I'm an alien/I'm an illegal alien...
There was a really fat woman there. Like,really fat. I don't have much against fat people - more cushion for the pushing - but this was freakin ridiculous. You know that feeling you get when you're thinking,oh sweetie,head over to the salad bar? Worse. I feel bad. Can they say 'I'm serious like a heart attack' with a straight face? Someone asked me today if they feel all the weight they walk with as they walk. Hm. Like I said. I like me some fat,but I was like,I dunno about that sleeveless top,gurrl. I jus DON'T KNOW.
This all started,of course, with my mother,who,for 5 years,has been ON MY ASS about my natural,mostly uncombed hair. I swear there's a class these women go to a class called 'How to wear down your children till they do whatever you want 2210.' So,to get her off my back,I now have things on my head that look like tiny little hungry leeches - little and skinny because they're not eating.
I am of the opinion that the chick washing my hair was doing her best to carve a tattoo into my head with her nails. And then I was getting irritated at the fact that she wasn't even seeing me wincing because she was lusting after some a'a mama's bhajias. TOTES not approps. At least the music playing was good. Ei,but salons are not my thing. Movies really lie. I kinda miss my old salon where I knew at least 2 people and they used to give you cake/sweets/tea/wine errday of the week...you can go through pain if there's food at the end. Ok I'm lying. I appreciate the fact that the guy currently adding leeches onto my hair doesn't expect me to sijui make conversation like the chick he was doing - pause - before,who'd apparently just found out her boo - or not so much - had an affair and was debating about whether to confront him...in vernacular...
It wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. Or maybe that's because there were drugs in my system. Let's just say,I can't wait to see and NOT hear my mom,lol. Now,about earrings...
tSN
p.s. LOL. Ati elections are in 2013? You guy the Kibz is IN IT TO WIN IT.
I walked into the salon - yes,you read that right. I too was surprised. - and instantly felt like the newest kid on the block. Dude. Salons are such an exclusive like for a specific community. Everyone knows each other. They've been coming here for years - obviously because they're into pain - and all who dare darken their doors are destined to be dragged into the dens of disapproval - when they see my hair - and detachment - because I'm not ONE OF THEM. I'm an alien/I'm an illegal alien...
There was a really fat woman there. Like,really fat. I don't have much against fat people - more cushion for the pushing - but this was freakin ridiculous. You know that feeling you get when you're thinking,oh sweetie,head over to the salad bar? Worse. I feel bad. Can they say 'I'm serious like a heart attack' with a straight face? Someone asked me today if they feel all the weight they walk with as they walk. Hm. Like I said. I like me some fat,but I was like,I dunno about that sleeveless top,gurrl. I jus DON'T KNOW.
This all started,of course, with my mother,who,for 5 years,has been ON MY ASS about my natural,mostly uncombed hair. I swear there's a class these women go to a class called 'How to wear down your children till they do whatever you want 2210.' So,to get her off my back,I now have things on my head that look like tiny little hungry leeches - little and skinny because they're not eating.
I am of the opinion that the chick washing my hair was doing her best to carve a tattoo into my head with her nails. And then I was getting irritated at the fact that she wasn't even seeing me wincing because she was lusting after some a'a mama's bhajias. TOTES not approps. At least the music playing was good. Ei,but salons are not my thing. Movies really lie. I kinda miss my old salon where I knew at least 2 people and they used to give you cake/sweets/tea/wine errday of the week...you can go through pain if there's food at the end. Ok I'm lying. I appreciate the fact that the guy currently adding leeches onto my hair doesn't expect me to sijui make conversation like the chick he was doing - pause - before,who'd apparently just found out her boo - or not so much - had an affair and was debating about whether to confront him...in vernacular...
It wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. Or maybe that's because there were drugs in my system. Let's just say,I can't wait to see and NOT hear my mom,lol. Now,about earrings...
tSN
p.s. LOL. Ati elections are in 2013? You guy the Kibz is IN IT TO WIN IT.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Book & Film Film 1: My faves for the holidays
So, over the holidays, I watched a bunch of movies, and I am going to give my unsolicited (although not so VERY unsolicited, as you are reading this, aren't you? Just saying. Ha) opinion on each one. And so, in order of the ones I liked least to the one I liked the most.
5. COURAGEOUS
Without a doubt, this was hands down the worst movie I watched. Thank goodness it wasn't done big screen, else something inside me and my wallet would have died. This could possibly be the worst movie I watched this year. (seeing as this is not the year I watched Death Race. *makes gun hand, blows brains out*) (gosh, that is violent, even for me. How about, *presses stop on dvd player and goes to find a book*) It was about 4 cops making it out in the big bad world, how they relate to their families, their friends and their work all with a solid Jesus foundation. I'm sure it looked good on script. Or in conceptual stages. But for me, it tanked on the screen. The Jesus, great as he is, was way too obvious, the script was weak, the comic relief was too far between each incident, the speeches were long (although that DOES happen quite a bit in Jesus movies, have you noticed? Which is fine, and I think, the point. The word cannot just be communicated in a swift, witty delivery. Can it?) Bottom line, my favorite Jesus movies still remain kina Megiddo vibes. Ah, high school...this movie gets, like, a 1.
4. A bit of a tie here. For the first time, I watched SMOKING ACES. It put me to sleep in the first half, but as we got towards the end, I rather appreciated the story. Smoking Aces is about a bunch of assassins trying to kill one man, who is being protected by the FBI in a penthouse at a Las Vegas casino. It annoyed me, but then they threw in fun eye candy like Common and Alicia Keys, and Ryan Reynolds,so. Still not better than Snatch, IMHO, but still pretty darn good once you get the gist of the plot. The action for me was boring - anyone can hold a gun and shoot it, and unless the gore is necessary (think Spartacus, but a little less) I do not get the point...but there was this one chick who had this gun? You guy. It was about a 3 and a half.
Speaking of Greek/Roman folk...ok, nah, speaking of gore, I also watched IMMORTALS. In 2D, though, thankfully, because Westgate has such crap 3D and I'm not a fan of 3D movies (Disney really needs to calm down with the 'bringing back the classics' bullshit). The movie was interesting, no doubt, as were the fights. Great casting with the protagonist (Henry Cavill), a peasant who has to save his village - and indeed, his world - by stopping the re-awakening of the Titans (who are locked away...somewhere) in a war against the gods. But I was annoyed at quite a few bits, like the incorrect depiction of the Greek gods. Ok, maybe that is the only thing I was annoyed at. The plot was interesting (not nearly as convoluted as Smoking Aces, though) and Mickey Rourke was so very excellent. That man is a fantastic bad guy. I quite liked the end as well. 3 and a half as well.
And then, MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 4: GHOST PROTOCOL. OMG! For anyone who thought that Tom Cruise doesn't have it, they are so very wrong. He still has it. All of it. And more. This is a movie about a mission they have to go on without any assistance from their agency (IMF). Dude (ol' Tommy boy) was swinging from the tallest building in the world that he climbed using suction cups. There is this CAR...(it was clearly a BMW movie, btw) And the chick from Jumping the Broom (which I thought was extremely fluffy and badly acted) totes came through. The chick fight was fantastic! SIMON PEGG!! I am SO EXCITED that he is part of the team. At the beginning I was pretty skeptical about yet ANOTHER MI (although I LOVED the first 3), but I am so glad I watched it. It's action-packed from beginning to end. Sometimes you lose the plot, but come on. Who really cares? :D 3 and a half.
1. SHERLOCK HOLMES: GAME OF SHADOWS
*squeals*
4 stars. I love me some Downey Jr. See? There is a future after drug addiction. Hehe. Game of Shadows picks up where the last one left off; the villain is still Dr. James Moriarty. I was surprised at the very first plot twist, but hey. Holmes is trying to stop Moriarty from starting a world war, basically. We are introduced to new and amusing characters, such as Sherlock Holmes' brother - hilarious chap. The train chase was great! The disguises were so funny. Watson's wedding was very...yeah. The gypsy is very realistic, and believable. We still see classic Holmes, like him thinking through/seeing each fight in his mind, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure. I loved the action, because it was unique. I loved the acting. I loved the plot and its twists. The only reason I am not giving it a 5 is...actually, I am not quite sure. It was really good. Go see it. Now.
Happy New Year!
tSN
5. COURAGEOUS
Without a doubt, this was hands down the worst movie I watched. Thank goodness it wasn't done big screen, else something inside me and my wallet would have died. This could possibly be the worst movie I watched this year. (seeing as this is not the year I watched Death Race. *makes gun hand, blows brains out*) (gosh, that is violent, even for me. How about, *presses stop on dvd player and goes to find a book*) It was about 4 cops making it out in the big bad world, how they relate to their families, their friends and their work all with a solid Jesus foundation. I'm sure it looked good on script. Or in conceptual stages. But for me, it tanked on the screen. The Jesus, great as he is, was way too obvious, the script was weak, the comic relief was too far between each incident, the speeches were long (although that DOES happen quite a bit in Jesus movies, have you noticed? Which is fine, and I think, the point. The word cannot just be communicated in a swift, witty delivery. Can it?) Bottom line, my favorite Jesus movies still remain kina Megiddo vibes. Ah, high school...this movie gets, like, a 1.
4. A bit of a tie here. For the first time, I watched SMOKING ACES. It put me to sleep in the first half, but as we got towards the end, I rather appreciated the story. Smoking Aces is about a bunch of assassins trying to kill one man, who is being protected by the FBI in a penthouse at a Las Vegas casino. It annoyed me, but then they threw in fun eye candy like Common and Alicia Keys, and Ryan Reynolds,so. Still not better than Snatch, IMHO, but still pretty darn good once you get the gist of the plot. The action for me was boring - anyone can hold a gun and shoot it, and unless the gore is necessary (think Spartacus, but a little less) I do not get the point...but there was this one chick who had this gun? You guy. It was about a 3 and a half.
Speaking of Greek/Roman folk...ok, nah, speaking of gore, I also watched IMMORTALS. In 2D, though, thankfully, because Westgate has such crap 3D and I'm not a fan of 3D movies (Disney really needs to calm down with the 'bringing back the classics' bullshit). The movie was interesting, no doubt, as were the fights. Great casting with the protagonist (Henry Cavill), a peasant who has to save his village - and indeed, his world - by stopping the re-awakening of the Titans (who are locked away...somewhere) in a war against the gods. But I was annoyed at quite a few bits, like the incorrect depiction of the Greek gods. Ok, maybe that is the only thing I was annoyed at. The plot was interesting (not nearly as convoluted as Smoking Aces, though) and Mickey Rourke was so very excellent. That man is a fantastic bad guy. I quite liked the end as well. 3 and a half as well.
And then, MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 4: GHOST PROTOCOL. OMG! For anyone who thought that Tom Cruise doesn't have it, they are so very wrong. He still has it. All of it. And more. This is a movie about a mission they have to go on without any assistance from their agency (IMF). Dude (ol' Tommy boy) was swinging from the tallest building in the world that he climbed using suction cups. There is this CAR...(it was clearly a BMW movie, btw) And the chick from Jumping the Broom (which I thought was extremely fluffy and badly acted) totes came through. The chick fight was fantastic! SIMON PEGG!! I am SO EXCITED that he is part of the team. At the beginning I was pretty skeptical about yet ANOTHER MI (although I LOVED the first 3), but I am so glad I watched it. It's action-packed from beginning to end. Sometimes you lose the plot, but come on. Who really cares? :D 3 and a half.
1. SHERLOCK HOLMES: GAME OF SHADOWS
*squeals*
4 stars. I love me some Downey Jr. See? There is a future after drug addiction. Hehe. Game of Shadows picks up where the last one left off; the villain is still Dr. James Moriarty. I was surprised at the very first plot twist, but hey. Holmes is trying to stop Moriarty from starting a world war, basically. We are introduced to new and amusing characters, such as Sherlock Holmes' brother - hilarious chap. The train chase was great! The disguises were so funny. Watson's wedding was very...yeah. The gypsy is very realistic, and believable. We still see classic Holmes, like him thinking through/seeing each fight in his mind, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure. I loved the action, because it was unique. I loved the acting. I loved the plot and its twists. The only reason I am not giving it a 5 is...actually, I am not quite sure. It was really good. Go see it. Now.
Happy New Year!
tSN
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