I watched The Dark Knight Rises yesterday.
...I still have shiny-anime-eyed, suppressed-squeal giddy afterglow from the sheer epicness.
...I still have shiny-anime-eyed, suppressed-squeal giddy afterglow from the sheer epicness.
So
there I was on the porch yesterday afternoon. Doctor Who shirt proudly
donned, DS lite in pocket, shoes sloppily
tied, money to pay for my tickets settled comfortably in my brother's
palm. And then our neighbors drove up in the most amazing car in the
universe.
It's gloriously tiny, enough to make a troupe of circus clowns drool puddles. Bucket-like seats, barely enough backseat room to support a chicken-legged six-year-old, a ceiling tailored for the likes of hobbits. Horrible Nicki Minaj music pounded through the speakers and vibrated to my bones, and the wind from the sun roof gusted on my face in an unrelenting torrent that drowned out all possible conversation.
I was beginning to get a crick in my back from stooping by the time we got there, head pressured against the rough fabric of the roof. We rushed inside, complimenting each others' nerd shirts on the way ("The Angels Have the Phone Box" and a rage face mash-up respectively), grabbed a packet of Swedish fish at the counter, and settled down into the cool, comfortable darkness of the theater to bask in the flicker of TV's warm glowing warming glow.
And then it began.
I have a sudden urge to spoil things for you folks, but as I am a gracious, hospitable human being, I'll suppress it and spare you said agony. Jerks.
My little frenemy, nicknamed by moi as Pepito, wasn't quite so chivalrous however. He shouted the game-changing phrase of destruction it as loud as his shrill vocal cords would allow when visiting at our house, purely for the malicious pleasure of seeing a great plot turn smashed upon the concrete, like a dropped glass ball, in front of our disbelieving eyes.
BUT, said spoiler turned out to be a false lead, which in turn made the ACTUAL twist ending even more discombobulating...
So his frenemy status remains un-toppled.
I don't know what to do with that kid.
Kbaifo'now!
~Elizabeth
Supreme Overlord of All the Things
It's gloriously tiny, enough to make a troupe of circus clowns drool puddles. Bucket-like seats, barely enough backseat room to support a chicken-legged six-year-old, a ceiling tailored for the likes of hobbits. Horrible Nicki Minaj music pounded through the speakers and vibrated to my bones, and the wind from the sun roof gusted on my face in an unrelenting torrent that drowned out all possible conversation.
I was beginning to get a crick in my back from stooping by the time we got there, head pressured against the rough fabric of the roof. We rushed inside, complimenting each others' nerd shirts on the way ("The Angels Have the Phone Box" and a rage face mash-up respectively), grabbed a packet of Swedish fish at the counter, and settled down into the cool, comfortable darkness of the theater to bask in the flicker of TV's warm glowing warming glow.
And then it began.
I have a sudden urge to spoil things for you folks, but as I am a gracious, hospitable human being, I'll suppress it and spare you said agony. Jerks.
My little frenemy, nicknamed by moi as Pepito, wasn't quite so chivalrous however. He shouted the game-changing phrase of destruction it as loud as his shrill vocal cords would allow when visiting at our house, purely for the malicious pleasure of seeing a great plot turn smashed upon the concrete, like a dropped glass ball, in front of our disbelieving eyes.
BUT, said spoiler turned out to be a false lead, which in turn made the ACTUAL twist ending even more discombobulating...
So his frenemy status remains un-toppled.
I don't know what to do with that kid.
Kbaifo'now!
~Elizabeth
Supreme Overlord of All the Things
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