I Walked Out on Star Wars
On Tuesday night, I walked a la la la cinema to see the Latest Star Wars, ("The Last Jedi"). I was still in a 4-5 day relapse, so things were difficult. It's hard to tell how much this got in the way of me enjoying the movie, and how much was because the movie was actually bad. It is said to be, "The best Star Wars sequel since, "The Empire Strikes Back."
I don't think so. Everything about it was recycled. Recycled scenes from other movies. Recycled references to light sabers and robots, etc., etc. Recycled actors - used mainly to capture market segments. Recycled CGI mega-violence. An obligatory scene of the quirky honky-tonk bar. Obligatory ethnic characters on the good side, obligatory NAZI whites on the bad side. There was absolutely nothing new here. And I'm looking at Hans Solo's brother wondering if that was Michael Douglas and I still don't know.
I did like the Little China Girl though.
While I was sitting there, I realised that I had lost track of my gloves. Here's what it's like having a cognitive deficit from CFS. I'm sitting there, realising that I don't know where my gloves are now, but I don't gather the inventiveness to actually check the seat next to me, where I put my bag. By the way, the theatre was full of people, but this show only had a bunch ov overweight people holding giant boxes of popcorn and supersized drinks. And I thought, "This is just an excuse for them to eat!" But I also thought that this was very sad!
So, when the big guy to the left put down his popcorn and went off to the bathroom, I pulled out my mini cop flashlight and looked underneath for my gloves. Then I slipped out, at about halfway through the movie. And I STILL didn't gather enough imagination to look in the seat where my bag was! I asked at the concession stand if they had found my gloves, but nay.
The next day, in contrast, lots of things went right! On my way to the library, I stopped in at the pantry and dropped of some stuff. It was closed, but in the hall were some new leopard-print and zebra-print throws available, which I can use on my bed for my dog! And, even though I was planning to buy jeans at the store, here was one pair of jeans awaiting for me to take - and they ended up fitting me!
Then I stopped in again at the cinema, and asked a small cute Chinese girl if my gloves had been found. (Meanwhile/ The manager woman always seems to take some kind of interest in me. Maybe she recognises me from my plays in the past). This took a little while, but while I was staring at the nacho's, the Little China Girl boomed her serious little voice at me, "Is this them?" and there they were!
At the library, I enquired as to some DVD suddenly, magically being overdue - so overdue, it was blocking my account. I told them that I knew where this DVD was. "It's in your library." Sure enough, there it was. Then, feeling lucky, I decided to enquire about the other half dozen items that were magically overdue as well. They sent someone to check the shelves and, sure enough, they had those too. So they erased all the fines and I left, a free man.
Immediately, the bus arrived to whisk me away to the big box stores, where I bought two more pairs of gloves, lol.
There are three related females that work at the library. They all look similar. And big. Maybe the blond one pulled a little passive aggression on me, in retaliation for me not taking a liking to her. That's what this whole town is about. Passive aggression. Ockham's Razor says that this should always be the first explanation for anything weird that happens here.
That happened to me with a girl with long platinum blonde hair at a supermarket a while back. She seemed to be insistent that we flirt and date, just because I was nice to her - and because she was so blonde. But her square butt and coke-bottle glasses scared me away, in addition to her apparent lack of personality. When I lived in Wisconsin, blondes were always crazy over me, because I have dark hair or something. Clearly, I do not have Nordic genes. You try pulling Irish wit on those quiet Norwegian types - it just does not work.
At work, I actually got a reputation for dating blondes, and I said, "But that's all there IS here! Blondes!"
And this is why I am now dying my hair blonde. Maybe this will solve everything. It looks great in pig-tails. Maybe now I can date Little China Girls... Or maybe I will get Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma from the hair dye and die. If any of these things happen, I'll be sure and post about it...
May the Farce be with you.
Why Star Wars: The Last Jedi Isn’t Actually a Box-Office Disappointment - No, really. It's because people don't like it.
I don't think so. Everything about it was recycled. Recycled scenes from other movies. Recycled references to light sabers and robots, etc., etc. Recycled actors - used mainly to capture market segments. Recycled CGI mega-violence. An obligatory scene of the quirky honky-tonk bar. Obligatory ethnic characters on the good side, obligatory NAZI whites on the bad side. There was absolutely nothing new here. And I'm looking at Hans Solo's brother wondering if that was Michael Douglas and I still don't know.
I did like the Little China Girl though.
While I was sitting there, I realised that I had lost track of my gloves. Here's what it's like having a cognitive deficit from CFS. I'm sitting there, realising that I don't know where my gloves are now, but I don't gather the inventiveness to actually check the seat next to me, where I put my bag. By the way, the theatre was full of people, but this show only had a bunch ov overweight people holding giant boxes of popcorn and supersized drinks. And I thought, "This is just an excuse for them to eat!" But I also thought that this was very sad!
So, when the big guy to the left put down his popcorn and went off to the bathroom, I pulled out my mini cop flashlight and looked underneath for my gloves. Then I slipped out, at about halfway through the movie. And I STILL didn't gather enough imagination to look in the seat where my bag was! I asked at the concession stand if they had found my gloves, but nay.
The next day, in contrast, lots of things went right! On my way to the library, I stopped in at the pantry and dropped of some stuff. It was closed, but in the hall were some new leopard-print and zebra-print throws available, which I can use on my bed for my dog! And, even though I was planning to buy jeans at the store, here was one pair of jeans awaiting for me to take - and they ended up fitting me!
Then I stopped in again at the cinema, and asked a small cute Chinese girl if my gloves had been found. (Meanwhile/ The manager woman always seems to take some kind of interest in me. Maybe she recognises me from my plays in the past). This took a little while, but while I was staring at the nacho's, the Little China Girl boomed her serious little voice at me, "Is this them?" and there they were!
At the library, I enquired as to some DVD suddenly, magically being overdue - so overdue, it was blocking my account. I told them that I knew where this DVD was. "It's in your library." Sure enough, there it was. Then, feeling lucky, I decided to enquire about the other half dozen items that were magically overdue as well. They sent someone to check the shelves and, sure enough, they had those too. So they erased all the fines and I left, a free man.
Immediately, the bus arrived to whisk me away to the big box stores, where I bought two more pairs of gloves, lol.
There are three related females that work at the library. They all look similar. And big. Maybe the blond one pulled a little passive aggression on me, in retaliation for me not taking a liking to her. That's what this whole town is about. Passive aggression. Ockham's Razor says that this should always be the first explanation for anything weird that happens here.
That happened to me with a girl with long platinum blonde hair at a supermarket a while back. She seemed to be insistent that we flirt and date, just because I was nice to her - and because she was so blonde. But her square butt and coke-bottle glasses scared me away, in addition to her apparent lack of personality. When I lived in Wisconsin, blondes were always crazy over me, because I have dark hair or something. Clearly, I do not have Nordic genes. You try pulling Irish wit on those quiet Norwegian types - it just does not work.
At work, I actually got a reputation for dating blondes, and I said, "But that's all there IS here! Blondes!"
And this is why I am now dying my hair blonde. Maybe this will solve everything. It looks great in pig-tails. Maybe now I can date Little China Girls... Or maybe I will get Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma from the hair dye and die. If any of these things happen, I'll be sure and post about it...
May the Farce be with you.
Why Star Wars: The Last Jedi Isn’t Actually a Box-Office Disappointment - No, really. It's because people don't like it.