Starved Saturday night, and I have to say, I like it. It’s fucking warped, and it’s got my boyfriend Eric Schaeffer in it, and the line “I ate 212 almonds last night really fast and then puked them back so they were still kinda whole. I just washed them off and ate ’em again. I’ve seen dogs do it.” made Fred shoot applesauce out his nose.
My only complaint is that the last minute or so of the show got cut off, so I need to tape it again and see what I missed. Fucking people in charge of programming. Is it too much to fucking ask that they synchronize their watches?
After we watched that, we watched Dead Calm. I’ve never seen it before, though I’ve kind of always wanted to watch it, because it’s the movie that brought Nicole Kidman to America’s attention and I’ve always heard it’s pretty good. She just looked utterly unlike herself, and I’m not exactly sure why. I think she’s had some dental work done, and her face is somehow… bonier now. I can’t explain, you just have to see it for yourself.
Billy Zane was an absolute dead ringer for a young Marlon Brando. Though of course I couldn’t think of Brando’s name, so I had to say “He looks EXACTLY like… Oh, what the hell is his name? “Stella! Stella!””
“Marlon Brando?” Fred said. “Yeah, you’re right. He DOES.”
Billy Zane does a good psycho character. It was a pretty good movie; I recommend it.
DEAD CALM SPOILER BELOW; SKIP IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT AND THINK YOU MIGHT.
The instant Sam Neill went down into the hull of the boat and stuck his knife into soft, rotting wood, I knew he was going to have to eventually get out that way. I also knew the dog wasn’t going to make it to the end of the movie; the dogs never do, do they?
Also, Fred got all pissed off because Nicole Kidman left Billy Zane alive when she threw him on the raft and cut him loose. He said “Why do people in the movies NEVER just kill the bad guy? WHY? I would cut his fucking head off, and toss him in the ocean, and if I had to stand trial for the crime, I’d happily do it. Because that would mean he could never COME BACK at the end of the fucking movie and attack me!” Heh.
* * *
Currently
reading:
Scoot Over, Skinny.
Finished late last night:
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE SPOILERS BELOW. SKIP TO THE NEXT SECTION IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT YET AND THINK YOU MIGHT.
So now I know the big spoiler, and I have to say… eh. Whatever. I’ve come to realize that I care very little about the adults in the Harry Potter books and reserve my likes and dislikes for the kids.
The next book should be mighty interesting, though. When will we see that one, around 2010?
* * *
Fred’s currently reading
Between a Rock and a Hard Place, the book by the guy who had to cut off his arm because it was pinned beneath a boulder and he had to cut his arm off to survive.
Now he – Fred, that is – is saying he wants to move to Colorado or Utah. Fucker. I said “Oh, BECAUSE THERE’S NO FUCKING OCEAN THERE, of course.”
And then I thought for a moment and said “Wait, wait, WAIT. It SNOWS in Colorado, so if you’re willing to move there, you must be willing to move to Maine, where there are MOUNTAINS and OCEAN.” And then he suddenly changed his mind about Colorado, I’m sure because I was making total sense, and decided he’d much rather live in Utah.
OVER MY DEAD BODY.
He did, after some haranguing from me, allow that the Appalachian mountains are big and good for hiking, and that he might be okay with moving there, EVEN THOUGH there’s ocean near them thar hills, and that would make me happy.
I’m not holding my breath, though.
* * *
So yesterday, Fred woke me up by bringing the kittens out of their room and putting them on the bed with me. Neither of them was interested in snuggling up, because there was room to explore, and they both hopped down off the bed immediately to sniff around. I let them run around while I got up and got dressed and made the bed and all that stuff, then put them back in their room.
They weren’t thrilled about being stuck back in that room, as I’m sure you can imagine.
A while later, after I’d exercised and eaten breakfast and was about to head upstairs and take my shower, Fred said “We should let the kittens out to run around…” and then came upstairs with me, and we did just that. Fred sat at the top of the stairs to prevent them from going downstairs, and I sat on the landing, and the kittens ran around and sniffed wildly, and Mister Boogers came out and growled and hissed and smacked at them, and just generally acted like an asshole. We let them run around for ten or fifteen minutes, and then put them back in the room and shut the door.
After I took my shower, Fred said something like “If our cats could get acclimated to them, I’d have no problem letting them run around the house, as long as we kept the cat door shut.”
I about fell over, because I never thought Fred would go for that; in fact, it had occurred to me to mention the idea to him, but I didn’t because I’d been sure he’d shoot down the idea. After lunch he shut the cat door and went up and let them out of their room, and they were just as happy as they could be, running around and sniffing and playing and having their butts sniffed by Mister Boogers. We let them stay out for a couple of hours, and then they started acting tired, but just couldn’t seem to settle down. I was sitting in the chair in the computer room, reading Harry Potter, and Rambo would climb up on me and settle down, then his attention would be caught by one of the other cats and he’d go running off.
(It was while I was reading Harry Potter and petting Rambo that I came up with the perfect name for him – Dobby. Too bad he’s already named, huh? Doesn’t matter, Fred’s been calling him “Bubba” and Jodie “Miss Squeaks”.)
When they’d both been wandering around making sad little meows for a while, I suggested to Fred that we should put them in their room for a little while so they could settle down, then let them out around 6:30 and let them stay out until we headed upstairs at 9:00. He agreed with that, and I ran them upstairs and left them in their room.
Fred couldn’t wait until 6:30, though. He went upstairs at 5:30 and let them out again, and we let them stay out until 9:00, as planned. It went pretty well, though Miz Poo smacked at each of them more than once, and Mister Boogers made his growly-hissy noise that scares NO ONE. Spot hid under my desk, and Spanky actually smacked one of the kittens, which surprised me – I’d expected him to run from them.
I think I’ll wait until I’ve had my shower and vacuumed the upstairs to let them out this morning, partly because I don’t want to scare the shit out of them with the vacuum, and partly because Mister Boogers is running in and out a lot this morning and I don’t want to shut the cat door just yet.
I think it’s hilarious that Fred said to me, yesterday, “This is just going to make giving them up harder, because you’ll be even more attached to them.”
“I’ll be more attached to them?” I said.
“Yeah, you will because they’ll be out and around you more.”
“Who’s the one who couldn’t wait ’til 6:30 and had to run up and let them out an hour earlier?” I pointed out.
He had no good response to that.
They’re SPOONING. How cute is that?
This is not the sight Mister Boogers likes to see when he first wakes up.
“Hi! Hi! See my spotted belly? Hi!”
That ain’t a look o’ love Mister Boogers is giving those damn kittens, who are sleeping in HIS BED.
Rambo climbed up on top of the giveaway box and promptly began biting a book. He’s a biter, that one.
You can see all of the kitten pictures I uploaded today,
here.
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