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| And then there were none...
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| Knocked Up. The Review.
The only reason I am writing this review is because I just read one for this movie with which I totally was in disagreement. Surprisingly, this "other" review was negative--which isn't necessarily surprising at all. The surprising thing is that mine is not negative I guess in more words than I need to use I'm basically admitting that I actually liked the movie. In fact I really liked it. Which is funny, because it's a romantic comedy involving two very typical characters; a potential disaster for my personal taste.
The way I see it, the typical characters are what really gives this movie meaning and relevance. They are typical, and that's why so many people can identify with the characters and therefore will participate in their journey. So she's a cute ambitious woman who's close to her family and is a little worried about dropping a few pounds. So he's a pot-headed terrifically unambitious guy who is happy to share his dirty apartment with three other male pot-headed roommates. So they do it, and she gets preggy. Fun stuff. And it's not crazy or extreme or extraordinary. It's typical. And that's why it's so extremely histeryical!
I was relieved, however, that the dialogue and comedy in this movie were anything but typical...
...That is, in my opinion. The other reviewer said it was typical, not necessarily unfunny, but "horribly trite." Whatever!! Shmashmortion? That's typical? A small asian girlfriend, who's totally fried, giggling (through puffs of weed smoke) about the Pregnant Lady's obligation to share food with the baby in her uterus? Typical? What about the ever-present blond bitch, who kept verbally stabbing the Pregnant Lady with a bitter sarcasm during the meeting of her promotion with her boss? Her subtle sass is typical? You're joking right?..
...Anyway. I don't think the humor was typical. I thought the curly haired Pothead was PERFECTLY casted in his role, and couldn't have had a better sense of his character's comedic nature. And I thought the writing was fun, smart, real, and all the things which the other reviewer said it wasn't.
So, go see it.
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| Someone on youtube once said...
"Even if HITLER believes in a god it does not make him a saint or a good man. I
believe in airplanes but does that make me suddenly a pilot?"
....Huh? Wha....?
Someone else said...
"but how do you reach them, when thay don't wan't to here???"
"when thay don't want to here???" No way. No... way.
Then I joined did facebook group called "be real and stay out my face." Here's the description.
"Man join did group if u tried of face hoes or nigga! I'm tried of
hoes in my face that dont like me bitch if u dont like me stay out my
face.I'm tried of 2-faced hoes in my face and bitch ass nigga 2 hoes
stop being so dam fake if u gonna do sumthing or say sumthin be a bout
or do ir not shut the fuck up!!!"
Gosh. I'm so g'darn.........tried.
I really am tried. I better go to bed.
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| First of all, take a second to laugh...cause life is so funny.
Ha.
That was fun...
Pretty sure... I've been having premonitions lately. I dreamed that two strange men would enter my employer's house (that is... the house belonging to the woman for whom I "babysit"), and I dreamed this while I slept on the couch in the living room of this very house... that is, before the kids woke up. So I'm sitting there... no.. laying there, dreaming this... right? Then later on the same day, after I had awoken, there entered two strange men into this house, exactly as in my dream. They were there to deliver some furniture. (An irrelevant piece of information). Premonition!!
The point is. I saw them coming. Before they got to the house... in my dream.
And in the same morning, I had a strange dream involving myself and another person sitting in a room--a very strange, clean, high room, out of which we could look down on the world, through clean windows and elegant curtains. I think the room was all white (except for maybe a bit of trim of some sort, and the curtains). The floor was hard, and we were sitting at a small wooden table, apparently chatting about something. Then, all of a sudden, Chase Foster waltzes into the room, crying. And he says something. And that was it.
Premonition! (or not?)
Another dream...
I was laying on my living room couch. It was today, after church (in real life, not in my dream), and I was sleeping. And I dreamed that a couple of my friends and I went out to drive, and encountered a tornado, so we sped back home (to my house, though my house was located somewhere near where the McCoy's house is actually located). Then we waited. It wasn't raining, it wasn't windy, it was actually quite sunny in selective areas. We were scared, and ready to dart into the basement So I'm waiting by the basement, totally confused as to why the weather is being so weird (and why, furthermore, there are no tornado sirens going off--for heaven's sake they work every first tuesday of the month at noon!!). So I go to check the window, and I look out, and there, creeping towards my house, is the edge of a silent but deadly black tornado. So I'm running to the basement, calling for my friends, and as I get down into the basement, and no one follows me, I realize what this tornado does. It simply sucks people up into its oblivion. Not buildings. Just people. Souls. Or something. And maybe that explains why there was no siren.
Premonition? Well, it is quite stormy out today. There must be a tornado somewhere! (Although I can't say it sucks only people up... nor can I say it will actually hit my house or winfield for that matter. I only know that there will be a tornado as a result of these storms...somewhere...)
Yes yes. I have discovered that I am magical... or clairvoyant... or psychic... or something...
Oh, and if you think that the tornado was simply a metaphor for the rapture... all I have to say is... uh-huh...
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| ...AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
First of all... my dumb-ass brother is watching WWF or whatever on TV right now (not because he's actually interested... but because he can't figure out what's entertaining about it...) and it's royally annoying.
And I can't get the bitch out of me because that crap is ringing in my ears (get it... "ring"ing)... so I'm having a cynic-attack. And I'm starting to hate you. No offense.
M.S... my brother is currently a monkey. He is mocking the behavior of the machismo wrestlers (grrrr!!!) and the embarrassingly unrealistic and unentertaining dramatic sequences prior to their kick-ass-ing. That means he's jumping around beating himself in the face and arbitrarily knocking things over.
Ok. So, I had a cynic-attack, and I remembered all the things I hate about Southwestern, so then I had a mini-panic-attack, because I've decided to go back.
Which just goes to PROVE that I am not a real person, but that doesn't really bother me at this point.
And that is the reason for the "AAAHH..etc."
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