Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

At one point in time I held the belief that I would eventually be forced to mature--to shed the husk of childhood and immaturity and venture out into the world in the adult skin that I had grown. I would interact with other mature beings on a level far beyond anything I imagined in my early years and, in doing so, would ascend to an even higher plane of maturity where people sip fancy drinks and read really thick newspapers (without the pictures, of course).

It's good to know that, every single day, the world completely debunks this belief, shooting it out of the sky and curbstomping the living hell out of it once its smoking corpse plummets into the terra firma.

The other day I was driving down the highway behind a minivan. Said roving suppository was sputtering along decently but certainly not at the speed limit that was originally intended by the government. Normally this would be no problem since that's what the passing lane is for, am I right? Most unfortunately for me, this tin can was in the passing lane...supposedly passing another car. And my exit was coming up pretty fast.

Eventually, the vehicle sluggishly moved over in front of the car it had just passed. Once again, unfortunately for me, they did not leave any room between them and the car behind them, nor was there room for me to merge into the lane anywhere behind said other car...or the car behind it etc. So I sped up to get in front of the van and, regrettably, had to essentially cross two lanes to exit.

Now, I'll freely admit, this is what I call a "dick move". And, most of the time, it is very much unjustified. I've occasionally been a perpetrator of the dick move and felt bad, even though I did it without any real reason. But, in this particular instance, the heavenly bodies had aligned against me in an attempt to block me from my exit. Or maybe the driver of the minivan was just an a-hole. Either way, I merged in front of the minivan. I caught a brief glimpse of the elderly couple (the wife was driving) before I noticed them get in the passing lane and speed up to pass me (even though I hadn't slowed down in front of them at all and was in fact going faster than them).

Then I notice them lurch past me as I'm exiting. The old dude was giving me the finger! Bwahahaha! No, seriously...maybe you didn't understand me correctly, so I'll reiterate..."Bwa ha ha ha". He was calmly looking straight ahead while holding up his bony, undead middle finger at me!

Of course I saluted in return because that's my right. It would be rude not to acknowledge a symbolic gesture such as that. But, c'mon...seriously? Dude. You're, like, 103 (or 70'ish...but who cares?)...and your flipping me off for your bad driving? Seriously? Should I tell the lunch lady on you?

Anyway, I laughed all the way to whatever destination I had to reach. I still think it's hilarious. Somehow, I guess we all eventually got past that peurile stage. I mean, honk the horn or something. You're our elders, for Pete's sake...act like it? Although I guess cavemen could be considered our elders, and I'm sure they wiped their ass with their hands...whatever that tells you.

And now, a quick review of a recent theatrical masterpiece...

Syfy Pictures Presents: Dinoshark
First of all...how is it that Syfy is just now getting around to doing this movie? I mean, seriously, this seems like one of the FIRST movies they would have done. I mean, there was already a movie called Dinocroc. Shouldn't this have been the next step? Way to fall behind the curve, Syfy. Son, I am disappoint.

It stars nobody, which was a good move for every respectable actor. Those poor slobs who said "yes" when their agents called them are probably still trying to find work. For the great thespians of this movie couldn't deliver one sentence of dialogue properly. Every interaction was more wooden than a porn star in a room full of...you get the point. The dinoshark itself got no dialogue, but its CGI looks like it was cooked up for an 80's MIchael Jackson video, then randomly burnt with a lighter and doused with acid.

The plot, if you can call it that, is that a huge chunk of ice melts off a glacier. The ice held little baby prehistoric monster shark things, one of which we encounter down in good ol' Mexico (which looks a lot like the California coast, oddly enough). Dinoshark wreaks havoc, eats things, destroys other things (then eats them) and generally creates a really bad time for the sun-loving citizens of whatever crappy town we're supposed to believe it is. I'm guessing this is because dinoshark is so depressed because it has to be in this movie. Wouldn't it be simpler just to fire its agent?

Eventually, because it's really easy to do, dinoshark takes a harpoon through the eye and is left to swim with the fishes...er...decompose, or something. This surprised me, because I felt sure that it would be killed by explosives. Oh well. At the end, we get the exact same stock footage of the piece of glacier breaking off, and the baby dinosharks swimming away...as if to remind us "Ha, you watched this movie, you little shit. And we can make a sequel if we want to!"

Here are your Drive-in Totals:
Necks/collarbones chomped: 5
People exploding in a red spray: 8
Water polo casualties: 3
Very stupid people: 100+
Hours wasted watching this trash: 2 (but it seemed like 3 or four)
Torso-chomping
Bite-fu
Harpoon-fu

1 1/2 stars

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