Graffiti with Punctuation*

Apparently, it was movie day today.  I had never heard of it, but Annie wanted to go see Contagion.  She gets off on dystopia-related fiction.  I like movies, so I was down.  We headed over to the Grand Lake to catch a matinee, so we only had to pay midwest ticket prices.  ($7, as opposed to $15 L.A. prices.)

My opinion:  meh.  There was nothing that made me particularly interested in the story.  I mean, I felt for Matt Damon.  Losing your wife and step-son, only to find out that your wife was a cheating whore would be pretty rough.  Trying to keep your last close relative safe was the only good story line.  That and the chick that would eventually get a Nobel prize for risking her life by testing her vaccine on herself.

Should've used Wahlberg. They're the same person, but Mark is better looking.

Diseased slut.

Other than that, there were just too many unresolved things.  Was the vlogger really batshit, or was he right all along?  Did that chick in China have Stockholm syndrome?  Do I really touch my face 3-5 times every waking minute?  Are blogs really just "graffiti with punctuation"?  (Regardless, it was a great quote, and I feel like it's a fair representation of my blog, if not all of them.)  *Does Demetri Martin really think that he can pull of the brilliant scientist/biologist role?  Not with that bowl cut.

Crazy or not?

Stockholm?

"Don't be attached to anything that you can't walk out on in 30 seconds flat when you spot the Heat coming around the corner."  That was my second movie.  I'm sitting here blogging while I watch Heat, from 1995.  I've never seen it, but I know it is highly regarded.  It's pretty good.  It's making up for the movie earlier.  Both have crazy casts, but young Natalie Portman in Heat is probably the best surprise.

*Updated:  I had no clue that Heat was 2 hours and 45 minutes long.  It kept me up way past my bedtime.  It was so good, though.  Why can't Hollywood make good movies any more?  They're too busy trying to turn shit like Toddlers and Tiaras into a movie.  Pacino shaking hands with De Niro as he was dying:  classic movie gold.  So was young Portman's suicide attempt.  As if Pacino didn't have enough shit to deal with.

It was obvious that the movie was going to be good.  Hell, there's a Jim Gaffigan skit about how hits hard to talk about good movies long after they've come out.  I think Dane Cook drops some beats about being in a heist, referencing Heat as well.  Since that whole scenario has already been dissected with comedy, I have nothing else to do here.

~RoB