You know what’s hilarious? Sitting at the drive-in, watching a scary movie, when some poor schmuck’s car alarm starts going off. And the headlights are flashing up on the screen and into everyone else’s car, and the horn is honking in regular intervals. And the poor guy can’t get the alarm to go off. He tries to start the car — not once, but twice! — but that, of course, does nothing, as it would be the same thing a thief would do. So, finally, the guy gets out of the car and uses the key to unlock the driver’s side door, which silences the alarm and stops the flashing lights, but only after scaring off several moviegoers from the lot.
You know what’s even more hilarious? When you’re inside the car that’s honking like it’s being violated, laughing hysterically in embarrassment that the guy next to you can’t figure out how to get his alarm to go off. And when he finally does get the thing turned off, you spend the next 10 minutes, tears of laughter pooling on your cheeks, wondering if it’s proper movie etiquette to just leave, or if you should just play it cool, stay, and let everyone get back to the movie, albeit a little annoyed.
Man. And all I had done was ask Phil, who had to walk to the concession stand way back behind us to pee during The Fog, not to scare me when he came back (what? I have weak nerves!). Instead, he accidentally embarrassed the bejesus out of the both of us instead by trying to open the door, which I had locked, which tripped the alarm.
The Fog was sufficiently creepy enough to not suck terribly, though I was angered by the lame-ass music (except for Jamiroquai) and the main character’s turtleneck sweater. And the dismal ending. Oh yeah, and the plot holes. But I’m guessing I missed some crucial info during the alarm fiasco, so I can’t complain. Plus, it’s a horror movie, and you can only ask so much from that genre.
We also saw Rocky Horror, which just confirmed what I had suspected before from seeing the movie in non-chronological chunks: I don’t get it. I mean, I very much love seeing Tim Curry prance around in those fishnets and chunky high heels — truly a spectacle of human endurance — but during the whole movie, I feel like there’s some joke I haven’t been clued in on. And my best guess is that it’s everyone was nuts in the seventies. Yeah, that’s all I got.
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My camera was an unfortunate casualty of the party Phil went to Saturday night. Some drunk redneck stumbled and bumped into him rather forcefully, causing the power/shutter button to break. It was already slightly cracked and we knew it would break eventually, but it still sucks. The rest of the camera works beautifully, but I’ll have to rig up some way to turn it on and off.
I have to admit that I live in turtleneck sweaters during the winter. I have one in every color of the rainbow. I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends. :)
Well, I guess I should clarify. It’s just this particular guy — who is supposed to be a sea-savvy, quasi-grungy kind of drifter guy, I think, though his characterization isn’t exactly crystal clear — didn’t strike me as the type to wear a chunky American Eagle off-white turtleneck sweater for much of the movie.
So I don’t mind turtleneck sweaters so much as I mind costuming departments that put characters in clothing they probably wouldn’t wear.
Now if you told me you had a collection of dickies, then I would disown you. This rule does not apply to my mother and me anytime from 1987-1994.
Ha! I don’t think I’ve thought of dickies since you drew Sharon in one years ago in SWISH! Thanks for clarifying the turtleneck thing. When Jeff and I came to visit and you pointed out some guy in an “intellectual turtleneck” I thought, “Yeesh, I’m glad it’s summer!” :)