August 20th, 2007
Current Music: 'Slave to Love' - Lords of Acid
So I FINALLY got the copy of 'Divorcing Jack' I'll be sharing with my sis/partner in crime (although it's a different sort of crime she's into, heh heh)!! Which totally made up for my craptastic day. Well, would if I could go ahead and get drunk and watch it tonight, but oh well. Friday's not too far away now. Mwa-ha-haaa.
We saw OotP again last Friday, and it rawked. Could've been more Lupin, but hey; more Sirius (as compared to PoA) made up for it. I'm still pissed that they cut so much from the book. Wankers. What, they couldn't have cut out all the 'magic is AWESOME!' gawking from the first two movies and made the ones with more plot longer? Ah, well; methinks me bitches too much.
August 1st, 2007
Current Music: "Back to Black" - Amy Winehouse
Welcome to Stream of Consciousness Theatre, something I wrote while I was drunk and watching 'The Island of Dr. Moreau.' I can't tell you where any of the comments correspond with the film, because that would mean watching it again. Sober. So think of it as a cross between a bad movie review and my rambling lustful thoughts about David Thewlis. Enjoy!!
Even if you haven't heard the stories, this movie hurts.
If a film starts with narration - no matter how well-acted - it's usually cod e for 'We gotta make this releasable!!'
I know John Frankenheimer has made good movies. Just give me a minute...
Val Kilmer. That's a bad sign.
Lucky for me, I don't remember anything about this movie.
Shit, Kilmer's chewing scenery!
'Why did I agree to this?'
Oh, damn, he's dressed.
Does the script make you wanna hit someone? Then it's a bad movie!!
Oh, see, he's multi-talented; he can do accents!
I can't believe I had a crush on that guy.
'What's going on in my head? Firing my agent!' (spoken by a rabbit.)
'Wow, all those awards, and he's in this movie?'
Awkward! In more ways than one...
Good lord, he's tall.
Oh, they needed someone with beautiful hands. No one else comes to my mind, either.
God, I like puns as much as anyone, but fuck.
Love a man from the North.
You're not funny.
Sorry, I wasn't listening. I was planning my next trip to Disney World.
Uh-oh, it's a Fantasuites!
'Oh my god, he IS a vet!'
Thanks for that, Stan Winston.
That look on his face says 'What the fuck?' better than words. *sigh* Why isn't he more famous?
'Oh crap! People in makeup!'
Anyone who can find the original director in this mess wins a Douglas plushie.
That 'what the fuck?' look I mentioned earlier may not be acting.
Yeah, this movie smells.
Hey look! Ron Perlman as a beastie boy! Seriously, will someone give this guy a starring role?
'We Are Devo!'
'Sayer of the Law'? Sorry, Bela Lugosi's Dead.
Damn, I love how he sounds when he's out of breath.
Um, where's Temuera Morrison?
OH SHIT, IT'S BRANDO!!
Thank you, South Park!
'No! You can't make me be in this anymore!!'
No wonder David Thewlis won't see this movie.
'Mr. Douglas, I beg you...' Take off yr clothes! XD
Oh, damn. He looks good holding a gun.
'Why have you done this?' Money.
I know Brando's better than this, but I don't remember how. Must be the booze.
Oh, there's Temuera Morrison.
Yeah, I wanna close my eyes too.
God, those are beautiful hands.
Um, ditto for the audience.
'Look at these people!' I'm trying not to...
Oh, he's probably actually speaking to the screenwriter.
No, really, did Brando momentarily lose all judgment?
I fucking love him.
I imagine the audience had the same look on their face. Me, I remember laughing my arse off.
Nothing for the digestion like bad poetry.
(laughs & swears)
'Is the devil still pursuing you?' No, the critics haven't seen this yet.
Debasement? Yes please!
Metaphor? Sorry, there's too many as it is.
I feel bad for anyone who only knows latter-day Brando. Hell, I feel bad for Brando.
God, I want those fingers on me.
My, but you do have a soft, delicate throat.
Ah, flashbacks to what we've already seen. That's a good sign.
A trial? YAY!
Ah, crap! CGI beasties!
Kill for pleasure and hatred? You mean like the Bush family?
Uh, Manimals shouldn't have areas.
Envy those in thick-enough makeup to be unrecognisable.
I'd scream too, in yr position.
Again, most times narration = filling in the plot holes. Still, if DT narrated paint drying, I wouldn't care.
(I wasn't really paying attention here.)
That blue brace clashes with the khakis...
Heh. I've had the same look on my face whilst humouring someone.
Christ, how much longer is this?
Script doctors? Quoi?
Yes, why don't we ALL smoke some of that?
Dead bunnies aren't much fun.
That is indeed a real champagne bucket on his head.
(One hour in - I give up and start fast forwarding.)
'When will this end?'
I cry when I'm tired, too.
Yup, I'm ready to throw shit too. And smack Val Kilmer.
'That's right, Kilmer, I've got a gun! Now you have to answer for "Batman Forever"!'
When all else fails, quote Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
'Oh, lord, I did sign the contract in blood!'
'I'll be okay. At least this isn't telly, where it could last as long as "EastEnders"!'
Can I use yr DNA?
'Yeah, it doesn't make sense to me, either.'
Um, is this the big dramatic showdown?
Note to self: Do not cross Fairuza Balk.
Curse my love of bad movies...
Bad kitty, indeed.
God, it still isn't over?
Jeez, it's hard to watch when one person is better than a whole movie...
Yr a god. A sex god.
Make sense? That's too much to ask at this point.
I can't tell you why there was an explosion. I was kinda distracted by the whole 'David Thewlis holding a gun' bit.
Ha! Notice how they never made a sequel...
Remind me to listen to Ron Perlman more often.
'Look, can we just end the movie now?'
Oh, Mini-Me survived.
Which is why there are no interviews with Mr. Thewlis about this film.
Oh, you too?
Cue stock footage of social unrest.
The following is from the trailers:
On the ninth day, he called his lawyer.
Most terrifying creation, as in THIS MOVIE!
You could market this as 'The Day the Clown Cried' and less people would show up.
Hoo-boy, sweaty David Thewlis.
Terrifying? HELL YES.
Next Time (if there is one): 'White Comanche', starring William Shatner. Or 'Dragonheart.' Hell, I don't know.
June 16th, 2007
Current Music: 'Wolf Like Me' - TV On The Radio
Pairing: Peter & Claude
Rating: PG-13, for Claude's dirty mind.
Word Count: 439
Description: Claude gets distracted by Peter. It's kinda goofy, really.
Spoilers: Mostly just 'Distractions' and 'Unexpected'
Notes: After spending months reading and enjoying the fics here, I finally wrote my own! It's kinda short, unbeta'd, and probably not very good, but what the hell, right? I got the idea on the way to work yesterday morning, and needless to say, was useless. ;D
Claude knew exactly the moment his brain turned traitor. It was the day he finally convinced Peter to steal something.
Peter wanted a vanilla milkshake, of all things, in bloody October in New York. Claude had told him, "'M not buying it for ya, mate. You want it bad enough, you'll figure out a way t'get it." To his surprise, the pup did as he said, using that borrowed telekinesis to lift a newly made shake from an ice cream shop.
He also insisted on sitting on a bench in the park to drink it. Claude relented only because his back was sore from Peter slamming him into a brick wall the night before. Seemed that throwing Peter off a roof had done him a world of good. Maybe, thought Claude, there were other things he could throw Peter at that would improve his learning. Like this bench... or the table in Peter's kitchen...
Claude froze, staring at Peter but not seeing him. Where the hell had that come from?
"What?" Peter had noticed the Brit's eyes on him. Claude's eyes finally focused, and he cursed them for doing so.
The straw bobbed against Peter's lips suggestively for a moment, before he sucked it back into his mouth. Claude watched as a bit of ice cream dripped onto the boy's lower lip& couldn't quite keep from smiling as Peter's tongue darted out to lick it away.The whole thing was, of course, quite innocent, but Claude couldn't help thinking about what else Peter might put in his mouth to achieve similar effect...
'Look at yourself. Bloody pathetic. Seven years alone and you're gettin' hard watching a boy drinking a milkshake?' Claude shook his head, hoping the thought would clear of errant, dirty thoughts with the effort, but it was too late. His body had already gotten the message, and he tried not to draw attention to himself as he shifted on the bench.
"What is it, Claude?" Peter's slightly panicked voice brought him 'round, and Claude focused on the boy's eyes, still not sure of their colour.
"Nothin'. Just wonderin' if you're finished wasting my time."
Peter scowled, & used his TK to float the empty cup to the nearest rubbish bin. 'My, he's angry when he's beautiful.' Claude thought before he could stop himself.
They stood and went on their way, back to the Deveaux building. Claude's hands were jammed in his coat pockets, trying to cover up the bulge in his trousers. Thinking his hands were cold, Peter stole him a pair of gloves. Claude refused them, but told him begrudgingly, "Y'know, you're gettin' better at bein' a thief."
Peter smiled. "Wanna know what else I'm getting good at?"
Claude snorted. "Gettin' on my nerves?"
March 16th, 2007
Current Music: Only in my head
Hmm. Yes. Journal. Journal, you say. What's that, m'boy, hmmm? Journal?