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Jul. 2nd, 2008 12:43 amJust got back from Prince Caspian. Wanted to cry. Did yell, laugh, growl, kick the rails, and make snarky comments when appropriate.
It was great because we were the only ones in the theater and could make obnoxious noises.
Just before the big battle I realized that I had 32oz of soda sitting in a really uncomfortable spot. So I dashed to the bathroom. ACROSS THE ENTIRE FUCKING THEATER. We were in the last theater, at the end of a very long hallway.
To the good though, by the time I got there, I was in a rush. I had now jostled those 32ozs and they were making it well known that evacuation was important.
I also had to get back because there was going to be a battle, and though it's a family movie, I always hold out hope for some random liver being hurled across the screen as something goes down, feet tangled in entrails.
Once in the stall, I undid my belt, and without realizing it, yanked my jeans down, over my hips, without unbuttoning them or undoing the zipper.
And they went down easily and with room to spare.
Rock. On.
~*~
The movie did bring up a question. Demon asked me when exactly did I get my mouse fetish? Looking back now, Reepicheep was probably my first mouse hero. Fievel from An American Tail, my first memory of mice in movies. A movie which my young self loved. Hated the second movie though.
I digress. I coo automatically at cute animals. It's a chick thing. But mice...I'm a bit obsessive about mice.
It's developed into a sickness. Birthday/Xmas coming up and don't know what to get me? Mouse. M-i-L gets stuffed toys for sick kids through her church. Guess who gets all the stuffed mice? Bored while waiting for the waiter to bring dinner? Give me a pen, a napkin, and a topic, and I'll draw a mouse for it.
I argue that the mouse obsession didn't come about until about 8 and a half years ago. That's when I started drawing little cartoon mice. When I made them mine, they became a part of me.
Of course, I didn't have a thing for giraffes either. Until I drew a purple and blue one.
It was great because we were the only ones in the theater and could make obnoxious noises.
Just before the big battle I realized that I had 32oz of soda sitting in a really uncomfortable spot. So I dashed to the bathroom. ACROSS THE ENTIRE FUCKING THEATER. We were in the last theater, at the end of a very long hallway.
To the good though, by the time I got there, I was in a rush. I had now jostled those 32ozs and they were making it well known that evacuation was important.
I also had to get back because there was going to be a battle, and though it's a family movie, I always hold out hope for some random liver being hurled across the screen as something goes down, feet tangled in entrails.
Once in the stall, I undid my belt, and without realizing it, yanked my jeans down, over my hips, without unbuttoning them or undoing the zipper.
And they went down easily and with room to spare.
Rock. On.
~*~
The movie did bring up a question. Demon asked me when exactly did I get my mouse fetish? Looking back now, Reepicheep was probably my first mouse hero. Fievel from An American Tail, my first memory of mice in movies. A movie which my young self loved. Hated the second movie though.
I digress. I coo automatically at cute animals. It's a chick thing. But mice...I'm a bit obsessive about mice.
It's developed into a sickness. Birthday/Xmas coming up and don't know what to get me? Mouse. M-i-L gets stuffed toys for sick kids through her church. Guess who gets all the stuffed mice? Bored while waiting for the waiter to bring dinner? Give me a pen, a napkin, and a topic, and I'll draw a mouse for it.
I argue that the mouse obsession didn't come about until about 8 and a half years ago. That's when I started drawing little cartoon mice. When I made them mine, they became a part of me.
Of course, I didn't have a thing for giraffes either. Until I drew a purple and blue one.
