Countdown to Madness!

In less than eight hours, by my own free will, I shall be watching Gigli.

Once again, it seems, I have been swayed by the promise of alcohol snuck into the theatre and the likelihood that we will be the only people in the place, giving us liberty to hurl invectives at the screen (Casual readers may not recall the reason I created a LiveJournal account in the first place was so that I could leave obscenity-filled comments, non-anonymously, on Lynn's entry about shanghai-ing both me and Pete to see From Justin To Kelly in a similar fashion.)

We never learn, do we? We constantly look back on all the trials in life, often with more chagrin and regret than not, and we go "Oh, why? Why are we plagued with such misery and suffering? Oh woe, I mean, why? Ah, that's right -- cause we actually saw From Justin to Kelly in the theatre."

And yet we turn right around and willingly see Gigli.

This right here is proof for all the optimists in the world that there is no, I repeat, no hope for humanity. Oh, woe!

Don't ask.

( THE LEAGUE OF DORM POSTERS )

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And in other news, in honor of her amazing talent to stay underfoot in the course of travel over three rooms, the little cat Martha has now been given the nickname "Visa" because she's everywhere I want to be.

WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAAAAH

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I failed.

For years I have taken pride in the fact that I have not once ever walked out of a movie before. The last time I came close was when I saw Vanilla Sky, but I held on by some perverse thin thread of hope that the explanation provided at the end would be worth the two and half fucking hours of boredom I'd been through. (The explanation was good, but the film overall was terrible.)

I walked out of Gigli.

I just couldn't take it. For one, it was shrill and ugly. Nobody talks in the film. They all yell. For two, there's a normal actor playing a retard in a horrible way. It was very embarassing to watch. For three, I had to drive myself to the theater so I couldn't drink. And for four, there were more people in the theater than just us. I couldn't be loud and yell "THIS IS SHIT" at the screen as I'd hoped. I don't like being loud in a theater with other people who are not participating in the fun, mostly because I don't like it when people are loud in theaters when I'm not participating in the fun.

But I just couldn't handle all this shit and no outlet. I couldn't take it.

So fuck you Ben Affleck, fuck you Jennifer Lopez, fuck you producers, fuck you screenwriter, fuck you extra people who wasted your money, and fuck me for wasting my money.