Saturday, May 29, 2004

Best friends Indecisive Indian and Jean Machine picked me up to rent a movie last night. Took us an hour and a half to rent something from Rogers.

"Kill Bill?"

"Seen it."

"Bring It On 2?"

"Doesn't even have famous faces."

"Bullet Proof Monk?"


"Hey, there's a Cruel Intentions 3, guys."


"What about this movie, with the Asian guy on the cover?"

"Who is he?"

"A 'George Wong'? Looks like he has first-degree burns on his face."

"Next. We need to find one with hot guys in it."

"Hey, I heard Calendar Girls was good."

"What's it about?"

"Old women stripping for charity."

"Nah ... What about Something's Gotta Give?"

"Yeah, we really progressed there: From oggling old women to old men."

"How 'bout we just rent what's on the monitor right now?"


"Robots in Disguise."

This went on for, like I said, an hour and a half before we left with Le Divorce.

Me: "It's a comedy! I mean, they're White, blonde, and divorced - we won't be able to relate! And she carries a gorgeous Kelly bag from Hermes."

So after much coaxing and VHS vs. DVD bickering, we go to Indecisive Indian's house and watch it.

The movie was not a comedy. It was not funny. Well, one scene was. The part where Naomi Watts's husband, Charles-Henri, tells Kate Hudson that he met another woman and that she's amazing. Just then, you here this ethnic singing in the background. The camera cuts to the girl he's talking about. She's speaking in tongue to a few people who've gathered around her and jerking her head from side to side like in a Bollywood production.

I2: "What is that? Is she speaking Chinese? What is that?!"

me: "Shuttup! It's Indian!"

JP: "I'd have to agree with Lily. She's singing like a crazy Indian woman."

I2: "That is not Indian, let's rewind it."

So we did, six times. Each time louder than before so we could really here that crazy lady. We couldn't breathe, we were laughing so hard.

The movie was so boring, we started playing "Try to get out of this blanket that's wrapped around your body in less than 10 seconds" long before the credits started rolling.


Speaking of first-degree burns. I was downtown, crossing the street to catch my bus, when this wigger stood next to me. He had on a baseball hat and shades.

OH MY GOD! I know I'm going to come off shallow right about now, but the inflammation on his face was ... was ... Okay. I didn't look long enough to see if it was just really bad acne or something, but his entire face was puffy, and it looked as if the top layer of his skin had been scalded off, with blister boils - fresh and popped - cratering his face like the surface of the moon!

Poor guy, but goddamnit! Even the Invisible Man made use of a scarf once in a while.

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