I saw the movie Shutter Island late last night with my daughter and her friend. We didn’t get finished with it until almost midnight, and then I could NOT get to sleep. It was pretty creepy and made me think.
I don’t have anything against thinking, per se, I just don’t want to still be doing it at 3 a.m.
The thing is, I know better. If I’m seeing a haunting movie just before bedtime, with dark windows all around and low hanging tree branches scratching against the roof, and the kind of music that makes you feel like someone’s going to jump out of the bushes with a butcher knife, it is not a recipe for relaxation. I’m getting that tingling feeling up my spine right now just thinking about it.
This morning I went to church and then came home and watched the movie again, in the daylight, with my husband, so that I would plenty of time to think about it all day. I figured I would exhaust all my thinking and be able to sleep like a baby tonight.
Let me assure you that you are going to want to watch it twice. My husband got done with it and said, “I don’t know what’s going on – is it this or is it that?”
I’m not going to tell you what the “this” or “that” is, or it will spoil the movie for you. You’ll know what I mean when you get to the end. And if you watch it a second time, you’ll know whether it’s this or that.
Speaking of this or that, I love those KIA commercials with those rodents doing that rap song, “Now you can go with this, or you can go with that.” I think they’re very cool dancing rodents. I wish I could dance like that. I dance the same way I did back in high school. I definitely don’t know how to do those rodent moves or I’d be in the street like they are, singing that song and doin’ those moves.
People reading this must think I do nothing but watch TV and movies. I am not going to deny that the perfect down time for me is watching a mindless movie on TV and eating chocolate chips. I like ‘em one at a time so they can melt and extend the enjoyment. That way I don’t have to eat so many.
If this blog is rambling more than usual, it’s because I’m exhausted. It’s all that movie’s fault, and I am going to go to bed and dream of dancing rodents all night long and wake up feeling like I’ve got some moves, pointing at the dishes in the sink and saying, “Now you can go with this, or you can go with that,” as I point to the dishwasher. Then I’ll point to the oven and say, “Or you can go with this, or you can go with that,” as I point to the microwave. My daughter will roll her eyes at me and tell me to stop, but I don’t care. I know I’ll be cool. And rested. I’m going to hop in bed pronto so morning will come all that much quicker.
Showing posts with label movie humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie humor. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Movie Madness
Yesterday we went to see the movie, Inception, which was really good. I talked my husband into going. He’s not a big fan of movies because they cost so much. “I’ll see it when it comes out of video.”
But I told him how good this movie was supposed to be and he consented to go. We got in the lobby and he wanted some popcorn. “Just get a small one,” I said.
“Why, it’s only a dollar more to get the medium.”
“Because the medium is huge, and I’ll eat the whole thing.”
“I’m starving,” he said. “I’ll eat most of it.”
I know this isn’t true because he only likes the top and middle layers that are that are dripping with that fake movie butter. He’s not going to eat any more than that, and then I know I’ll eat all the rest.
“Look, just get the small. It’s plenty of popcorn,” I whined, but he ordered a medium because it was a better deal.
“Lots of extra butter, too,’ he tells the clerk, “and a medium diet Coke.”
The concession stand girl gets a bag the size of a grocery sack and starts shoveling in popcorn. Five minutes later she’s got it about half full and she starts pumping the butter on it. Pump, pump, pump, pump…these dots stand for about 30 more pumps….pump. Then she starts shoveling in more popcorn. She’s staggering under the weight of the bag as she pumps more butter over the top.
She hoists the bag up onto the counter and starts filling a cup with about two gallons of diet Coke. She has to lift it with two hands.
“That’ll be $13.50,” she says.
My husband pays, complaining the whole time. “Seven bucks for a bag of popcorn.”
“You could have gotten the small bag,” I said.
“Yeah, and just saved a buck. It’s a better deal with this one.”
As we walked to the theater number 6 - on our right, I’m worried that the popcorn bag isn’t waterproof and a waterfall of butter is going to gush out the bottom.
We found decent seats and my husband starts in on the popcorn. I am not joking, he plunges his big old fist into the top and crams the greasy kernels in his mouth and dives in a second, third, fourth and fifth time. He’s after the butter, and he’s not going to share that popcorn until he gets the lion’s share of it. Then he hands me the bag.
I grab a mouthful and it’s as dry as the Mohave Desert. It doesn’t taste good but I keep eating because popcorn and potato chips are two things I can’t stop eating until the whole bag is gone.
I munched my way through that bag until I struck popcorn oil – the second layer of butter. I tried to be nonchalant so I’d get to enjoy some of that delicious grease but my husband caught on quick. My slick fingers kept reflecting off the movie screen like they had a flashlight shining on them. He again snatched the bag away, gobbled up the butter, and then gave me the dry stuff back.
Just like I knew I would, I continued to eat that popcorn even when the button flew off my shorts and hit a bald man in the back of the head. Even when the zipper let its own self down. Even when the muscles in my arm were getting sore from the repetitions. I finally put the bag down, but only because I just couldn’t lift my arm again to grab another handful.
Of course I was thirsty after eating all that, so I drank practically all of the pop. Diet Coke makes me need to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW. The movie was so complex and captivating, though, that I didn’t want to get up. I sat in misery all the way through it, and when I got up I knocked people down and trampled them to get to the bathroom.
All in all, it was a great evening except for my discomfort. I highly recommend the movie, but do yourself a favor and get the small bag – or else make sure you wear reinforced shorts or bring a safety pin.
But I told him how good this movie was supposed to be and he consented to go. We got in the lobby and he wanted some popcorn. “Just get a small one,” I said.
“Why, it’s only a dollar more to get the medium.”
“Because the medium is huge, and I’ll eat the whole thing.”
“I’m starving,” he said. “I’ll eat most of it.”
I know this isn’t true because he only likes the top and middle layers that are that are dripping with that fake movie butter. He’s not going to eat any more than that, and then I know I’ll eat all the rest.
“Look, just get the small. It’s plenty of popcorn,” I whined, but he ordered a medium because it was a better deal.
“Lots of extra butter, too,’ he tells the clerk, “and a medium diet Coke.”
The concession stand girl gets a bag the size of a grocery sack and starts shoveling in popcorn. Five minutes later she’s got it about half full and she starts pumping the butter on it. Pump, pump, pump, pump…these dots stand for about 30 more pumps….pump. Then she starts shoveling in more popcorn. She’s staggering under the weight of the bag as she pumps more butter over the top.
She hoists the bag up onto the counter and starts filling a cup with about two gallons of diet Coke. She has to lift it with two hands.
“That’ll be $13.50,” she says.
My husband pays, complaining the whole time. “Seven bucks for a bag of popcorn.”
“You could have gotten the small bag,” I said.
“Yeah, and just saved a buck. It’s a better deal with this one.”
As we walked to the theater number 6 - on our right, I’m worried that the popcorn bag isn’t waterproof and a waterfall of butter is going to gush out the bottom.
We found decent seats and my husband starts in on the popcorn. I am not joking, he plunges his big old fist into the top and crams the greasy kernels in his mouth and dives in a second, third, fourth and fifth time. He’s after the butter, and he’s not going to share that popcorn until he gets the lion’s share of it. Then he hands me the bag.
I grab a mouthful and it’s as dry as the Mohave Desert. It doesn’t taste good but I keep eating because popcorn and potato chips are two things I can’t stop eating until the whole bag is gone.
I munched my way through that bag until I struck popcorn oil – the second layer of butter. I tried to be nonchalant so I’d get to enjoy some of that delicious grease but my husband caught on quick. My slick fingers kept reflecting off the movie screen like they had a flashlight shining on them. He again snatched the bag away, gobbled up the butter, and then gave me the dry stuff back.
Just like I knew I would, I continued to eat that popcorn even when the button flew off my shorts and hit a bald man in the back of the head. Even when the zipper let its own self down. Even when the muscles in my arm were getting sore from the repetitions. I finally put the bag down, but only because I just couldn’t lift my arm again to grab another handful.
Of course I was thirsty after eating all that, so I drank practically all of the pop. Diet Coke makes me need to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW. The movie was so complex and captivating, though, that I didn’t want to get up. I sat in misery all the way through it, and when I got up I knocked people down and trampled them to get to the bathroom.
All in all, it was a great evening except for my discomfort. I highly recommend the movie, but do yourself a favor and get the small bag – or else make sure you wear reinforced shorts or bring a safety pin.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Avatar Again
I saw Avatar for the third time today. The first was in 2D with my son and daughter on my birthday. The second was in IMAX 3D with two girlfriends last Thursday. The third was with my daughter, also in IMAX 3D because she hadn’t seen the 3D version yet. All in all I’d say I’ve gained three pounds because of this movie – a pound of popcorn each at the first two and a pound of candy today.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t go into any building where they are showing a movie without gorging on popcorn. As I go in the door, waves of popcorn smell lift me in the air and carry me, half hypnotized, to the concession stand where I get the biggest bag because it’s a much better deal. The concession stand guy says, “Do you want the large bag for $50 – that’s only a quarter more than the medium bag.” Who can pass up a bargain like that?
My daughter wanted candy, so we were forced to buy a two-pound box of Reese’s Pieces that could have satisfied an elephant. Human-sized boxes are not available anymore. As we worked our way through the box, the remaining pieces rattled from the very bottom to the small opening in the top. Very often my daughter had to shake the box to get a fistful out. If you haven’t seen Avatar yet, let me explain that this is a very engrossing movie, and many parts are wondrous and quiet, so no one talks or makes a sound. A rattled box of candy sounds like a mariachi band. I could feel eyes boring into the back of my head. I kept slumped down in case someone decided to take a swipe.
I’m at least smart enough to get a large diet soda because I figure I can burn off substantial calories lifting that huge container up and down, which might offset some of the “butter” calories on the popcorn. I put the word “butter” in quotes because we all know the substance is artificial oil that comes from a “butter” tree, a tree that was scientifically engineered by Julia Child and only grows in France. The oil from the butter tree has 10 times the calories and toxic chemicals of real butter, but at a fraction of the cost.
Unfortunately, the carbonization in all sodas, particularly diet sodas, acts as a bladder massager – the more you drink, the more your bladder gets massaged. Scientists studying the phenomenon believe that carbon bubbles go in the bladder and mutate into actual fingers that push on the walls of human bladders, thusly simulating the urge to pee – and pee right this instant. Therefore, even though the giant tumbler seems like a good deal on the surface, the average moviegoer will end up missing about 25% of the movie due to frequent bathroom breaks. When you consider that an IMAX 3D movie like Avatar costs $15.50 at today’s prices, and you’ll have to see it at least twice to try and catch the 25% you missed the first time, your good deal, just like your bladder, doesn’t seem to hold water.
Today it was unfortunate that even at 3:00 in the afternoon the movie was sold out, so the only two seats left in the house were in the middle of the row, and they weren’t even together. I had to beg people to scoot together so that my daughter and I wouldn’t have to sit on opposite ends of the theater. On my frequent trips to the restroom, because the rows in the theater are built for pygmies and are impassible without forcing fifteen people to stand up along the way, there were many angry patrons hissing, “SIT DOWN” behind us as I made my way back and forth. It was like one of those “waves” at a football game, except this was a wave of hissing.
All in all it was a fun experience, except my eyes felt like cotton balls after wearing the 3D glasses for 3 hours. But who’s complaining. I’ve finally gotten to see the whole movie from beginning to end. And if I have missed anything because of going to the bathroom, my husband still hasn’t seen the movie so I’m sure I’ll get a chance then.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t go into any building where they are showing a movie without gorging on popcorn. As I go in the door, waves of popcorn smell lift me in the air and carry me, half hypnotized, to the concession stand where I get the biggest bag because it’s a much better deal. The concession stand guy says, “Do you want the large bag for $50 – that’s only a quarter more than the medium bag.” Who can pass up a bargain like that?
My daughter wanted candy, so we were forced to buy a two-pound box of Reese’s Pieces that could have satisfied an elephant. Human-sized boxes are not available anymore. As we worked our way through the box, the remaining pieces rattled from the very bottom to the small opening in the top. Very often my daughter had to shake the box to get a fistful out. If you haven’t seen Avatar yet, let me explain that this is a very engrossing movie, and many parts are wondrous and quiet, so no one talks or makes a sound. A rattled box of candy sounds like a mariachi band. I could feel eyes boring into the back of my head. I kept slumped down in case someone decided to take a swipe.
I’m at least smart enough to get a large diet soda because I figure I can burn off substantial calories lifting that huge container up and down, which might offset some of the “butter” calories on the popcorn. I put the word “butter” in quotes because we all know the substance is artificial oil that comes from a “butter” tree, a tree that was scientifically engineered by Julia Child and only grows in France. The oil from the butter tree has 10 times the calories and toxic chemicals of real butter, but at a fraction of the cost.
Unfortunately, the carbonization in all sodas, particularly diet sodas, acts as a bladder massager – the more you drink, the more your bladder gets massaged. Scientists studying the phenomenon believe that carbon bubbles go in the bladder and mutate into actual fingers that push on the walls of human bladders, thusly simulating the urge to pee – and pee right this instant. Therefore, even though the giant tumbler seems like a good deal on the surface, the average moviegoer will end up missing about 25% of the movie due to frequent bathroom breaks. When you consider that an IMAX 3D movie like Avatar costs $15.50 at today’s prices, and you’ll have to see it at least twice to try and catch the 25% you missed the first time, your good deal, just like your bladder, doesn’t seem to hold water.
Today it was unfortunate that even at 3:00 in the afternoon the movie was sold out, so the only two seats left in the house were in the middle of the row, and they weren’t even together. I had to beg people to scoot together so that my daughter and I wouldn’t have to sit on opposite ends of the theater. On my frequent trips to the restroom, because the rows in the theater are built for pygmies and are impassible without forcing fifteen people to stand up along the way, there were many angry patrons hissing, “SIT DOWN” behind us as I made my way back and forth. It was like one of those “waves” at a football game, except this was a wave of hissing.
All in all it was a fun experience, except my eyes felt like cotton balls after wearing the 3D glasses for 3 hours. But who’s complaining. I’ve finally gotten to see the whole movie from beginning to end. And if I have missed anything because of going to the bathroom, my husband still hasn’t seen the movie so I’m sure I’ll get a chance then.
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