So...I took Da Doll to catch the Transformers. Call it a Rite of Passage...mother to child, the sacred passions of my childhood (these include the Thundercats, Pirates of Dark Water, geez...He-Man?....brain drain, brain drain!), passed down. I had a hard time trying to convince Ms. Langkawi Barbie (cuz we're asian, and aren't near Malibu k?) that the Transformers are a rockin'-A cartoon dream come true!!! Hahahaha!
Anyways, she was impressed...but it took her a while, cuz during the drive...well, baby doll wasn't buying it ;) When we got to the cinema, the drama unfurled. An accumulated list of grievances IN the cinema are as follows:
- The lights were out, and I only knew our row number...TGV's seat numbers aren't out there where we can see them, ya know? So we asked the couple at the beginning of the row what their seat numbers were, cuz then we'd count off ours. They gawped at us as if we were speaking French or something. Retards. Anyways, we sat down because, hey. We were sort of not transparent, and there were people behind us.
- The lady on my left took umbrage about me plopping my butt into the seat next to her. Well, duh! If I could see or at least know which seat numbers were on either side of us, we'd move, yeah? Anyways, I told her so, whipped out my cell to illuminate the number of the seat I was in, and scooted over accordingly.
- You know those ads Cineleisure has? About not talking? The irritating cartoon dude and the Wrigley's Spearmint chewing gum?? The one who talks to the screen, then gets shut up by chewing on Wrigley's Spearmint? Hah. I wish I could've stuffed two cartons down the retard's throat that sat behind me. Hello?? If your friend can't read, then ok... repeat the words being written on screen, otherwise...dude. We paid to watch the movie, not listen to you repeat EVERYTHING. I had to turn around at one point, and ask him to stop repeating stuff. He didn't really stop, but he got softer. Or the movie got louder. Whatever.
- You know the reason why GSC is doing so much better than TGV? I've not gone for ONE movie...not ONE that hasn't had some screen problem right at the start. Today's problem was the letterbox effect. Or whatever it's called. Fuck, the top of the actors' heads, and the subtitles, got sliced out. Nobody corrected the problem until the attack on SOCCENT in Qatar was through. Fuckers.
- The dude who talked through most of the movie? His friend kicks. Doll kept twisting in her seat halfway through the movie. I shushed her, then realized she was getting kicked. Cuz Fatmouth's friend, Striker, has long legs. He used one on Doll's chair, and the other on mine.
I was gonna add in more grievances, but I'm gonna stop there. I think the tone for the evening went wrong about the time the kiasu couple thought I was accusing them of stealing our seats. Hello, asking you "
What's your seat number?" isn't the sign of a hostile takeover.
To top off the night, I had to pee. Badly. So I was in a rush to get home. Now, I wasn't speeding...exactly...mind. But I did push the horses a little. I was coming out of the corner where the old TV3 was. Umm... is it still TV3? :) Anyways...Was...Is...whatever.
There was a
blue Wira with Malaccan plates and double digits in front of me, and to my left.
MY LEFT. Home is the U-turn under the fly-over, and you take the right lane to get there. Yah? Anyways, I pick up speed. There's nobody ahead, and nobody behind. I accelerate... and Malaccan Plates decides to cut in front of me, no signal.
RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.
I'm accelerating, doofus. Can you NOT tell? Could you NOT wait until I had cleared the stretch to keep right? We were about halfway to the light, and when I highlighted him and stomped on the brakes, he purposely
SLOWED DOWN, and started tapping his brakes unnecessarily.
Dude, flex your wrinkled balls someplace more logical. Granted, your girlfriend was in the car next to you, but
COME ON!!! Not only are you being infantile, but that's a damned dangerous game to play, even on a deserted stretch. More so when it's not warranted. I did
NOT honk you down, I did
NOT play bumper tag with you...Fucking find a penis pump, and apply it to your genitalia...
So, anyway. I enjoyed my second viewing of the movie. But I wish to heck I'd packed a bazooka.
Llew Marsh in a solo spot @ The Attic, backed by Maestro Jason Geh on the piano. Ooh, la laaa! :)
The Amazing and Gluttonous Football! All fear the walking belly...she scratches!
The 'Ball, pre-pounce.
The insane cam-whoring owner of the equally insane Football!
Llew Marsh in a solo spot @ The Attic, backed by Maestro Jason Geh on the piano. Ooh, la laaa! :)
The Amazing and Gluttonous Football! All fear the walking belly...she scratches!
The 'Ball, pre-pounce.
The insane cam-whoring owner of the equally insane Football!
