i've mentioned before that we're big blockbuster users. all hail the blue and gold logo that causes us to open our wallets and our homes to so many awful, horrible films. conservatively, i'd guess that i enjoy about 3.7256 movies we rent out of every 10.
why so few, you ask? because i'm only half of the movie-renting-population in this apartment and the other 50 percent of the population has terrible taste in movies. (and television and food and lots of things, but for right now, we're only talking about movies.) movies like b-grade slasher films and self-produced bounty hunter films.
my horizons have certainly been expanded, but not in any way that i'd want to discuss in front of people.
would you like an example? right now - literally - right now, we're watching "the lost boys: the tribe". it's the anxiously-awaited sequel (that was sarcasm) to the 1987 vampire classic (that was not sarcasm, i love that movie) "the lost boys". the only common denominator between the two (beyond the setting, the cinematography, the theme song, blah, blah, blah) is corey feldman.
now i don't know how much tv you watch, i watch more than the recommended daily allowance, but corey feldman can be found on the internet (or encyclopedia britannica if you're old school, and i'm down with that) under all. washed. up. i've watched bits and pieces of that show on a&e "the two coreys" and i've seen firsthand, from my sofa, that dude is at the end of his career.
official janel rating: three thumbs way down. way, way down. like, down, on the floor, down. (btw, the janel does *not* have three thumbs, she's borrowing the thumb of the bee, sitting next to her because this movie is that bad. for real.)
moving on.
so last week i went to lunch with my dad. not that exciting, we talked about same ol' boring stuff: his farm, the barn, the weather, his knack for spending money he doesn't have (I TOLD YOU PEOPLE IT WAS GENETIC!). and then we went to costco. where, in his constant attempts to purchase forgiveness for not being around for the majority of my teenage years, he bought me a giant bed for the pooties.
no, really, giant. big mc large HUGE. it's like 36 inches by 42 inches or something like that. i'd get you the exact measurements but the pooties ate the tag. and that right there is the point of this blurb. it's a nice, comfy, well-upholstered rectangle of a doggie bed and the only thing they're interested in doing is eating the "do not remove" tag and the zippers.
they won't lay on it, they'll only lay beside it. especially kingsley, because the first time that he did stand on it, buddha decided he wanted to move the bed from one end of the living room to the other and kingsley got a nice ride. (funny to watch, not so funny for the pootie, i'm sure.)
good times. it's just that much more crap on the floor that i get to clean up every day.
woot.
and finally: missing punctuation. you may or may not know what that means, and if you don't, well, you should try harder to keep up. no new developments - nothing. nada. zip. zilch. zero. and it's not like i could have missed it - or misplaced it. i have the kind of punctuation that you know when you're having it. and i haven't had it. i'm frustrated. and i can't get into the doctor for a few more days.
ugh.
stupid back-to-schoolers having all their stupid back-to-school physicals. don't they know they're dicking up my schedule?
there are things i need to KNOW, man. your vaccinations can wait.
and on that note, i'm going to go watch stupid movie number two, "the bank job." however, this movie employs the talent of one jason statham, who i will never tire of listening to or watching.
*sigh*
peas out, ninjas.
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