It's a nice night for a walk. Dark, misty, a touch chilly. And you should believe me. Because I went for a walk and it was great.
Enough cockwitted tosh. While rehabbing - I use that term looser than the oldest sheep in Burra - I took in eight films. Because I'm brainlocked I'll review them in the style of me.
Here we go:
PULP FICTION: Fucking class. Thought about having my hair cut like Butch. Egg refused, called me stupid and I concurred.
TRUE ROMANCE: Serge ruled. Walken ruled. Pitt pwned (as the cool kids type) but as a straight up film it seemed like a collection of great scenes slapped together. A touch disappointing then again when you expect a movie to be as good as PULP FICTION and THE LAST BOY SCOUT you're setting yourself up for disappointment. Gary Oldman ruled too.
LAYER CAKE: A straight up serious as shit in your cereal British gangster film. Facking loved it. Didn't realise the guy... actually shan't spoil that bit. Plus any film that has that Irish transported guy from Star Trek arguing and swearing is an automatic must see. 'I'd have told him to bring a fucking Uzi...'
FIRE DOWN BELOW: See previous journal entry. Can't add much else, except Sinope pointing out the neon green Toxic waste. Neon green! GENIUS! But only in a SEAGAL film.
MAN ON FIRE: A Denzel movie. Want more? Peasants.
Oh, all right. The editing was pretty atrocious, tried too hard to be cool. Plus Denzel incorporated some of his ALONZO mannerisms into his character - not cool. And suffered to me comparing it to CRIMSON TIDE and THE LAST BOY SCOUT which heights it failed to reach. But if the last few sentences puts you off from seeing it, and I suspect it won't seeing as I'm probably the last of ye to see it, then jobby-jooby-fart to you.
SUPER SIZE ME: I'm done with fast food. Forever. Preservative ladened shite. Shameful.
THE BOURNE SUPREMECY: The best Bond movie since Goldfinger. Seriously. There was next to nothing wrong with this film and no bloody invisible cars. If you want to watch a film with nothing wrong watch this.
COLLATERAL: Fucking class. The best film I didn't see last year. Just balls deep awesome. Great acting, great music, great visuals. Just fucking class. In the words of Yassir Arafat, 'Go!'
HARD TARGET: The first half of the movie can suck the sweat from my plums. It just drags and sucks. Bloody awful. Then Jean-Claude Van Damme becomes the target and the movie kicks seven shades of shit (there are twenty shades but for my purposes seven sounds better) out your arse. Motorbikes, snakes, explosions, arrows, shotguns, 'load me', 'Course not. I'm a professional' and like HELICOPTER VS HORSE. Jesus Christ, the ultimate movie of two halves. Like that Man CIty/Spurs game last year (City losing 3-0 at half-time, win 4-3 - correct me if I've got the teams or date wrong) it all turns around in the second half.
MEET THE FOCKERS: Had no intention of seeing this but my friends wanted me to come. Safe cringe-y comedy. Has it's funny moments but in no way compelling and wouldn't watch it again. The Hindu Cow thinks this was funnier than Dodgeball. Tsk.
And after all that my shoulder is feeling alright now. I'm 90% sure this is nerve related but if I hurt it again it's time to visit that rancid whorebitch quack of mine so I can be 100%.
Oh it's time for sleep. The Grand Prix is on early and I want to see M.Schumacher get stuffed live. Nobody who cheats his way to a championship (see what he did to Damon Hill to get his first one and what he tried to do to Jacques Villeneuvue in Portugal but failed... cheating sod) should be a living legend but he is and as such will have me rooting against him for his past. Although I did root for him versus that femmy dweeb Mika Hakkinen I did not like that man.
I miss Ayrton Senna. And my mate Paton who died in a motorbike crash years ago - a vicious thug but he liked me. Beat the rest of my school friends up but he did like me.
Right, now time for real sleep before I really start lamenting. Night.
Enough cockwitted tosh. While rehabbing - I use that term looser than the oldest sheep in Burra - I took in eight films. Because I'm brainlocked I'll review them in the style of me.
Here we go:
PULP FICTION: Fucking class. Thought about having my hair cut like Butch. Egg refused, called me stupid and I concurred.
TRUE ROMANCE: Serge ruled. Walken ruled. Pitt pwned (as the cool kids type) but as a straight up film it seemed like a collection of great scenes slapped together. A touch disappointing then again when you expect a movie to be as good as PULP FICTION and THE LAST BOY SCOUT you're setting yourself up for disappointment. Gary Oldman ruled too.
LAYER CAKE: A straight up serious as shit in your cereal British gangster film. Facking loved it. Didn't realise the guy... actually shan't spoil that bit. Plus any film that has that Irish transported guy from Star Trek arguing and swearing is an automatic must see. 'I'd have told him to bring a fucking Uzi...'
FIRE DOWN BELOW: See previous journal entry. Can't add much else, except Sinope pointing out the neon green Toxic waste. Neon green! GENIUS! But only in a SEAGAL film.
MAN ON FIRE: A Denzel movie. Want more? Peasants.
Oh, all right. The editing was pretty atrocious, tried too hard to be cool. Plus Denzel incorporated some of his ALONZO mannerisms into his character - not cool. And suffered to me comparing it to CRIMSON TIDE and THE LAST BOY SCOUT which heights it failed to reach. But if the last few sentences puts you off from seeing it, and I suspect it won't seeing as I'm probably the last of ye to see it, then jobby-jooby-fart to you.
SUPER SIZE ME: I'm done with fast food. Forever. Preservative ladened shite. Shameful.
THE BOURNE SUPREMECY: The best Bond movie since Goldfinger. Seriously. There was next to nothing wrong with this film and no bloody invisible cars. If you want to watch a film with nothing wrong watch this.
COLLATERAL: Fucking class. The best film I didn't see last year. Just balls deep awesome. Great acting, great music, great visuals. Just fucking class. In the words of Yassir Arafat, 'Go!'
HARD TARGET: The first half of the movie can suck the sweat from my plums. It just drags and sucks. Bloody awful. Then Jean-Claude Van Damme becomes the target and the movie kicks seven shades of shit (there are twenty shades but for my purposes seven sounds better) out your arse. Motorbikes, snakes, explosions, arrows, shotguns, 'load me', 'Course not. I'm a professional' and like HELICOPTER VS HORSE. Jesus Christ, the ultimate movie of two halves. Like that Man CIty/Spurs game last year (City losing 3-0 at half-time, win 4-3 - correct me if I've got the teams or date wrong) it all turns around in the second half.
MEET THE FOCKERS: Had no intention of seeing this but my friends wanted me to come. Safe cringe-y comedy. Has it's funny moments but in no way compelling and wouldn't watch it again. The Hindu Cow thinks this was funnier than Dodgeball. Tsk.
And after all that my shoulder is feeling alright now. I'm 90% sure this is nerve related but if I hurt it again it's time to visit that rancid whorebitch quack of mine so I can be 100%.
Oh it's time for sleep. The Grand Prix is on early and I want to see M.Schumacher get stuffed live. Nobody who cheats his way to a championship (see what he did to Damon Hill to get his first one and what he tried to do to Jacques Villeneuvue in Portugal but failed... cheating sod) should be a living legend but he is and as such will have me rooting against him for his past. Although I did root for him versus that femmy dweeb Mika Hakkinen I did not like that man.
I miss Ayrton Senna. And my mate Paton who died in a motorbike crash years ago - a vicious thug but he liked me. Beat the rest of my school friends up but he did like me.
Right, now time for real sleep before I really start lamenting. Night.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
the experiment with the food in the jars was fucking nasty..