Oh, wow, I must have broken some kind of record with this one. Three lazy, half-assed posts in, and I’m already out of ideas. Wtf? You won’t find any proof here, but I promise you I used to be decent to good with a fleeting glimmer of brilliant at this whole writing mission, quest, thing. Pinkie swear. But this, right here, right now, feels worse than a college application essay. What I plan to do with my life in 3000 words or less. Umm, I dunno, live it? With the utmost respect for myself ( you know, that whole my body is a temple school of thought, to which I am so committed that I only hit Mickey D’s once a week ) and others, i.e. if I don’t kill the a-hole who almost tripped me over and then told me to watch where I’m going, I think I’m set in the afterlife, right? I mean, surely they’ll be laying the red carpet all up to the Gates of Heaven for that kind gesture alone.
What can I bore you with? Let’s see… Uuu, I know, I can always whine about how it’s been two weeks since the latest Harry Potter film has been released in my country and I still haven’t seen it. Damn these kids today, they’d rather watch Transformers than genuine entertainment. Don’t get me wrong, I secretly love Transformers. Hey, kiss my not-so-lily-anymore-because-I’ve-been-to-the-beach-bitches ass, I loved the cartoons and I so want one of my very own ( Optimus Prime, but I’ll settle for Bumblebee or Megatron ). However, you can’t beat Harry Potter, the BIG SPOILER AHOY rightful owner of the Deathly Hallows. Well, not in my book anyway. And man, do I love those books, and films.
With maybe the exception of Michael Gambon as Dumbledore. Why did Richard Harris have to die? And because apparently he did, why couldn’t they replace him with Ian McKellen? He’s British too, you know? So what if he’d already played Gandalf, you’d think that would have been the best argument for not against going with him?
Anyhoodle, to lull my sorrow until I can manage to verbally terrorise someone into going with me ( by doing what I do best, which is not shutting up, ever ) I watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix a few days ago. For the 9th time. Approximately. And besides once again finding it a bit crammed I realised Harry’s not quite realistic as a teenager. And I’m not talking about the “ I can do magic “ part. That’s real. In that universe, I’m not that far gone, mind you, though I wouldn’t mind visiting every once in a blue moon. Nope, I’m talking about the anger / angst issues which he fears will end up with him turning into a Voldemort Mini-Me. At which point I had to pause the movie for an excuse-the-shit-outta-me moment. Really? Are you that much of a goody-two-shoes or just emotionally retarded? Yes, I said it, and about HP, and you must have gathered by now that I love the crap out of this story. But come on, his parents died when he was a baby, their killer is free and well, his “family” bullied and terrorised him, his friends are starting to die around him, for the most part of the book / film the magic world either fears, doubts or at the very best dismisses him as someone with a hero complex, his protector is driven out of Hogwards, and he doesn’t know it yet but he’s about to lose even more family and friends in the battles to come. And he’s worried that a little screaming and anxiety make him evil? Please, darling, I think you’ve pretty much secured at least a dozen free passes, for all of the above, and I’ll even slide you another one on account of having to go through puberty at the same damn time. Go ahead, it’s on the house. Damn these pesky kids. What? Hagrid’s Fang is obviously related to Scooby-Doo. You can find them cowering on the chicken-out branch of the family tree. Thank you, and good bye, but do come back soon, I’ll be here all week. Then again, quite possibly, not.