Quick questions?
Chick Flick:
Letters to Juliette is obviously going to be a chick flick. Went anyway. Does that make me less of man? Or more so. Chick flick means, well, it means something. Besides, as movies go, the subtext was way better than the presumed main plot. The main story is about a girl, and then how she answers a letter, and anyone who’s seen the trailers can pretty much surmise the main plot. Doesn’t deviate much, if at all, from the two-minute short-form.
What was cool was the blossoming romance between the supporting characters, a hot 73-year-old Vanessa Redgrave. The rest is merely filler.
I was, just about, the only male in the audience that afternoon. Certainly much younger than most of the crowd, too.
Amid noisy catcalls, and obvious peer derisions? I enjoyed it. The film.
Target rich environment.
Come to think of it, I don’t think Ms. Redgrave ever swapped saliva or tickled tonsils on screen. That’s class. Still very sexy. Even more so.
How much would you pay?
That answers that question.
Unrelated:
“Zanex and tequila, that’s how I cope.”
Grandmother:
I’ve “couch-surfed” with my buddy Grace and her husband, Ken for years. I’m like (wacky) Uncle Kramer, only, not really, but close enough. This trip is no different, only, Grace, after she fetched me up at the airport, we had to go to the big warehouse store, as she had a slew of grandkids arriving. I was there to help. However, she passed on the big bucket of pure sugar candy.
That’s wrong. Just really wrong. Mostly sugar, some artificial colors, red dye number bad for you, chemicals to preserve the candy’s taste.
She didn’t buy it. Wrong. So very wrong.
“Do you want to be a in house full of hyper children?”
Me? I’ll be at work.