I'm listening to the latest Cinemaslave and it would seem Joe went to see Ghost Rider in eager anticipation of it being so abysmally awful it would be fun.
(Just look at him! When the hell did he get so goofy??)
Instead of transcending its own awfulness and thereby becoming a real gem, well, it sounds like it just sucked the balls of mediocrity. I know exactly what Joe's talking about--there's nothing worse than expecting something spectacularly putrid and getting a warm turd instead. Which is too bad because I was already having visions of pitchers of beer (it's at the Studio Movie Grill). Maybe if we go in after having already consumed a pitcher...
The Studio Grill also has Zodiac, which I admit I'm curious about. I couldn't help noticing, however, the christing 165 minute runtime!
Ok, time to throw wood on the fire for one of our last cold nights here in Texas. D won't be home til around 1am (stupid store) so I have to amuse myself tonight. So far it involves wrestling with the cat who fucking refuses to get out of my lap. It is a little chilly in here. I've kicked him off at least three times (it's awkward typing). He's got mad purring skills, though, so I've relented. His snuggling/burrowing skills aren't bad, either.
Hang on, judging from the sounds of the children outside, it would appear someone is tearing one of them limb from bloody limb. Ah. I think someone jammed a finger while playing basketball.