I saw XMen 3 last week. Twelve of us went together and my friend Drew and I were drafted to save seats before everyone else got there. Have you ever had to save ten seats at a movie theater on the opening day of a hit movie? We kindof felt like assholes. I said that if anything said anything, we should say that we were saving the seats for orphans. Orphans with diseases (yeah I stole the line from Family Guy, you wanna make something of it?!?)
What if we shamed someone with our diseased orphan story and then ten computer nerds walked in? I suppose that we could have gone on the offensive and said “What do you have against post-pubescent orphans with diseases? Don’t you think that they are just as deserving (if not more so) of your pity as the freckle-faced orphans that you see in Disney movies?”
Won’t somebody please think of the balding, pot-bellied orphans?!?! (Not that I am implying anything about the weight and/or follicley-challenged stature of my co-workers. I love you guys. Really. I swear.
Luckily for us, it was a matinee. The only people there were unemployed slackers, comic book fans who couldn’t wait until after business hours and truant students. None of those people is very good at getting in your face about saving seats.
The movie itself was pretty meh. It was a good excuse to eat candy and enjoy some explosions, but it sortof reminded me of a college frat party. There were a lot of hot chicks, you vaguely remember having a good time, but at the end of the night you’re not quite sure what happened. There was something about a woman in a red dress who acted all PMS-y. Moral of the story: don’t give women any power or they will go all crazy and try to fuck you up because you wouldn’t sleep with them. Thanks Hollywood. You are a shining beacon of light and hope to us all.
Hoper — A powerful woman might get all PMSy? I can’t imagine. *vbg*