Saturday, March 24, 2007

Plot Keywords: Stabbed in Eye, Rough Sex, Decapitation, Evisceration, Transvestite, Mutant

Saturday, March 24, 2007

After a day fraught with the desire to push Brain-Damaged Lady into the river so she could be eaten by catfish and sea monkeys, I had some good times. Namely, MacGyver and I saw 300 in IMAX, a sepia toned bloodbath of sexiness.

I like Frank Miller's work, and I'm not just talking about Sin City, I also liked what he did with Daredevil back in the day. I don't love his stuff, his work is darker than that of my favorite comic book guy, Kurt Busiek. I can see Frank as the archangel Azrael, bathing Egypt in the blood of every firstborn son. But with hot ladies! So I expected blood and death and T&A, and boy did it deliver. I was amused by Xerxes, the RuPaul of warlords, and the plethora or war beasts. Riding in on a rhinoceros has got to chafe, and I was glad to see the Orcs found work after the LotR trilogy ended, and this time they got pretty shiny masks! I really did like the movie, but it is hard to take a film seriously that uses Gerard Butler as the principal bad ass. I respect him and his body, but he's turning into Hollywood's go to guy for epic characters: he has been Atilla the Hun, Dracula, Beowulf, The Phantom of the Opera, and Lara Croft's bitch.

Whoever whipped the actors into shape did a good job. I suspect their abs were enhanced with airbrushing or CGI, but you can't fake the balance they achieved. Movies with top heavy heroes piss me off, the chest and arms are the showy muscles and distract from the crucial well-honed thighs, glutes, and back. A good example is Arnold in T3.

Every time I decide to quit my job as soon as possible, my boss does something nice. My patients were wearing me out hardcore this week: some canceled, a lab order got lost and I had to be all "This is when she was scheduled for a blood draw, so I don't care what your calendar says, we are not leaving till she is bleeding. Snap!", one's guardian rescheduled the mover so arranging my whole week around the apartment change was rendered pointless, and I think I'll have to commit Goatee Lady to the psych unit next week. She's all manic and the nurse said she was chanting "Jesus Saves" and accusing the secretary of being influenced by the devil. Sigh. I can't beleive I get paid less than $12 an hour to deal with this tripe. So then F-bomb, my boss, is all, "of course you can leave early! You work hard so don't even bother with taking PTO to cover it!" If he was meaner I wouldn't feel bad about wanting to escape.

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