Friday, February 04, 2005

Truck Stop

NorIda, her roommate MaineAid and I watched Lord of the Rings: Return of the King until no one could keep their eyes open. Let's get the cinematography and artistic direction over with: Incredibly, jaw-droppingly, spectacular.

I kept asking NorIda what was going on: Why someone would spend his free time dallying on a tower plateau holding an orb ("It's a prison for the magical: can't escape going up or down"), why elves have hyperactive dwarf servants ("That's a child, Lily"), why the good guys didn't also breed a couple of fetishistic mutanimals for destructive/corruptive/seductive purposes ("Isn't there, like, a Middle-Earth Home Depot somewhere?" I inquired), and so on.

I also noticed MaineAid's wandering hands which I maintained at the time to be purely "accidental." Of course, his agenda was made clear when NorIda, acting ambassador for his loins, asked me what his chances were with me the following morning at breakfast.

"I knew something peculier was up!" I said, shaking a dramatic finger. "That's why I slipped [into our conversation last night] how comfortable I felt around him, like a (real) brother."

NorIda laughed. "That's probably not something he wanted to hear. So you're not interested?"

"Nope."

"Alright then," she grinned as she cut into her cantaloupe. "He's gotta stop flirting with every available girl."

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