Day Twenty One: The First of Two Today

I'm not even going to acknowledge the fact that I am behind at all. In fact, I'm not. I'm ahead. Way ahead, by like a skajillion days. Don't judge me.

Can I say, real quick, that no sequel-type movie this summer titillated me in any way. That may be a little harsh, but let's run down the list.

1) Spiderman 3- so phenomenally retarded I came out of the movie and couldn't figure out how to get into my car. It made me that stupid. Really, Peter Parker goes 'emo'? My favorite part of talking about that movie was telling my friend Dani about Spiderman's 'emo' strut through the streets of New York. She said, "I know, wasn't that ridiculous! ... What does emo mean?" Love her, she lives in London, it's a hard life to live.

2) Shrek 3- not horrible, but not great. The story seemed interesting, but the recycled jokes were already a bit stale when told during the second movie. This time, they simply seemed sad. Disappointing.

3) Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End- alright, I'm sorry for the G-rated readers out there, but how do you fuck this up? Wonderful story, fabulous actors, dedicated fans waiting with baited breath in the wings? And for what? Crabs. Johnny Depp is saved by desert rock crabs. I read a review in which the critic said this movie continued with the feeling of the second, in that everything was being made up as the filming went along. While I did enjoy the movie to a certain degree, I think they tried to pack too much in. Which is saying a lot, considering the movie was a week long.

4) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix- Listen, my hopes had already been so dashed by this point that I wasn't expecting much more than a Dachshund turd on my shoe. And I was not disappointed. Am I a bad judge of acting, or are the folk who play Harry, Ron, and Hermoine in the films (Daneil Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson, respectively) not improving as thespians? At all? Again, I'm not sure what I expected, I don't want to be too harsh, but if you're going to take a chainsaw to the book's storyline (No problem there, the book was over 900 pages long), then at least make sure the acting is top notch. Don't get me started on Dumbledore. This new Dumbledore, I mean good Lord! He might as well be the headmaster in the Pink Floyd's the Wall. More than anything, that's some piss poor directing. Dumbledore as a literary character deserves nothing more than to rock, be awesome, and make you love him at all times. You don't love this Dumbledore, not like you do in the books. Shameful.

Sorry about that. Seeing HP5 threw me for a bit of a loop, had to release some cinema steam. To business.

Daily Goal: 2000

Today's/Yesterday's Word Count: 2212

Surplus/Deficit: 212

J.W.B.: 3305

"What he really needed was a hotel that would let him rent a room for half a day. That would give him enough time to shower and clean up, and get dressed into flight gear. Flight gear meant jeans and a button up, collared, white linen shirt, an ensemble that he felt gave him a better shot at looking respectable when checking in, passing through security, and not drawing too much attention at customs. Erroneous or no, it was custom now, one which he must keep.
Finding such an establishment turned out to a bit more of a challenge than he hoped, as he was turned down at the first four hostels that he inquired. The fifth one, a shabby looking hotel off the main road in the district most popular with backpackers, seemed more than willing to accommodate him. A stout woman took him into his room and showed him around, handing him the key as she walked out. She kept her hand in his as she gave him the key, however, and looked at him with a dawning doubt.
“This room only for you, ok?” she said, eyes narrowed, tone misgiving.
“What?” he asked, exhausted and ready for a nap.
“No guests, ok?” she said, growing forceful with her words, her stature swelling. “No ladies up here, ok?”
It still took him a moment to comprehend what she was insinuating, her hand still holding on to his, and the key. The look of final warning stormed onto the woman’s face.
“If you pay by the hour, it can only be you, no ladies come and stay with you. Ok?”
Prostitutes. Prostitution. When was he going to finish Full Metal Jacket?
“Oh God no! No no no, no! Yes, it’s just going to be me, I promise!”
His slowness on the uptake did not seem to have convinced her, and he had to yank the key out of her hand. Smiling as innocently as he could, her frown morphed into a deep grimace which she kept on him until the door closed on her face."