George Carlin’s comedy has injected many phrases into my vocabulary, but the one that is in almost constant use in our house is “Bullshit, Klaus!” The Man, I’m sure, doesn’t even know where it came from, but he throws it around just like I do.
I’m gonna miss George Carlin, the crazy old coot. He talked sense, and he talked it in a way that said FUCK YOU to the people who needed to hear it.
The Man and I watched Cloverfield tonight. I spent most of the movie being annoyed with the guy who was doing all the camera work – not because the camera was jiggly, but because he was SO ANNOYING. I couldn’t believe some of the stuff that was coming out of his mouth as these people are fleeing for their lives. The sheer number of times he asks “Are you OK?” is nerve wracking in and of itself. No, no one is OK! We are all pretty fucking far from OK! Have you seen the giant monster destroying our city? Notice how our friends are dying all around us? That is the polar opposite of OK!
I thought the movie was pretty good for what it was – there’s not much you can do with a movie about a giant monster. We did watch a thing in the Special Features where the director and the monster creator guy were talking about how the monster was supposed to be newly hatched, and not a vicious rampaging beast, but rather a lost infant who was confused and looking for its mother, and lashing out in fear and panic. . . and we both said “Wow, I so did not get that from the movie.” I mean, how were they supposed to convey that, really? The only way would have been to have some heavy-handed biologist type analyzing skin samples and being all “My God, it’s an infant!” Yeah, I’m glad they didn’t go that route. I have a sneaking suspicion that Jeff Goldblum would have been the biologist.
I did end up feeling awfully bad for the people in the movie, though. I mean, really awfully bad. Those last couple scenes were friggin terrible. It’s really easy to get me to feel terrible about a movie, though. My imagination likes to run away with me, and the next thing I know, I’m imagining me and The Man in the same situation, and I start to think about all the stuff we never did, and how we didn’t say goodbye to our families, and how terrified we would be, and how we would both be trying to protect each other, and then I’m choking up and trying not to cry, and feeling like an idiot, because let’s be honest here, the likelihood of us being killed by a rampaging mystery beast is pretty slim.
I feel kind of silly now. But I’m still very, very sad about the ending. *sniff*
I really need to delete my Classmates.com account. I signed up for it years and years ago, before MySpace and Facebook came on the scene. I thought it was a neat idea, and a way for old friends to find me with a minimal amount of effort. I never paid for the service, though. I just kept it at the “free” level, which basically meant I could see a list of people who had signed up and that was it.
Lately, though, Classmates has really started to piss me off, because EVERY DAY I get a new e-mail from them telling me that someone has signed my guestbook or left me a message. And I can’t see these things because I don’t have a pay account. This, to me, is the height of idiocy. There are so many free social networking sites out there now, why does Classmates continue to charge for service that is – at the end of the day – crappier than even MySpace’s? Does Classmates do anything that MySpace doesn’t do? If the answer is no, and I’m sure it is, why the heck should I pay them anything? They really need to just open their service up and put ads on their site if they need to be raking in the cash.
Anyway, it just makes me mad. Like so many other things. Astonishingly, my blood pressure remains low. Go me!
I’m having a few issues with my site right now. Sorry if everything looks all wonky.
Update at 8:30 PM
Everything should be back to normal now. If images are not loading for you, please let me know in the comments. I did something that made half my template go away, but I think I wrangled it back to where it should be.
Mackers had her baby boy around noon on Wednesday. He is a large lad, weighing in at 10 lbs, 2 oz. I think. I’m pretty sure. I also am pretty sure that he is 22 inches long. He’s very cute.
I managed to find my way back to my parents’ house from Grand Rapids, city of neverending construction zones. As soon as I got there, I ate a huge sandwich and took a short nap. I went to bed early and slept for another nine hours. Apparently being awake for over 24 hours and not eating much that whole time doesn’t do much for me. I felt bad for Mackers; all I had to do was stand there and try to be encouraging. She didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and had to birth a baby.