"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Rambling Sid Rumpo ain't got nothing on me
8:58 p.m. on 2003-12-22

Not sure what this entry could be about, really.

It could be about me raving about ROTK. Went to see it on Thursday with Claire, and wow. Okay, so being anal and full of expectation, I have to admit there were certain scenes I was disappointed with, certain bits I thought were lacking. The absence of Saruman, certainly, and no Houses of Healing. No epilogue for Faramir and Eowyn except 'a look' and no nice ending for Leggy and Gimli, the best gay couple ever! Also... the moment when Sam finds Frodo post-Shelob, in the book, makes me cry. In the movie, I was having trouble stopping myself from giggling. Elijah Wood, stiff as a board, eyes wide open, with Sean Astin doing his best 'emotional engineering' job over his prone body. Um... yeah. In the books, Sam was convinced that Frodo was dead because of the natural way in which his friend lay, even after the Ring was taken from him. In the movie... well... in the movie...

*sniggers*

Sorry.

So what else could I talk about? I could talk about my friend Phil being mugged. I am so pissed about this. Partly because its Phil. He's the sweetest guy you could ever hope to meet, and this shit lands on his doorstep. If ever there was proof that God doesn't exist - or if he does, then he's a mind fucker - then it's this mugging. I'm also angry because it happened on my doorstep, in my town, on a road I walk down every day, at a time I normally would consider safe, to a group of people who are doing all the right things to make yourself a non-obvious victim.

Shit might happen. But not in my backyard! And not to Phil.

I could talk about the finale to Oz. The greatest prison drama - nay, the greatest television soap, for that is, all pretention aside, what it is - ever to come from the shores of America. Gritty doesn't cover it. And in the last few episodes, Oz managed to kill off most of the main characters and empty the entire prison, all done with a number of dramatic twists and turns which you could never predict.

I worship these writers.

I could talk about Dead Like Me, and how much that show is going to become my New Obsession. Or I could talk about friendship, and how much I'd like everyone to loosen the fuck up. Or at how pissed off Christmas music makes me. Or how chirpy I am that Olivia bought me Gold Membership at Diaryland for my Christmas present, hurray! Or how I'm going to outsex everyone in the local pub on Wednesday night, thus shoving my hot ass down the throats of every person who ever made fun of me at high school... in a metaphorical sense, of course. In a way that will inspire jealously in the girls, and desire in the boys. I will adopt an air of aloofness, in my tight red number, my heels, my bright crimson lipstick.

Ya boo suckers! All this shop work has given my Kylie ass!

Am I being superficial? Oh well. Tis the season, I guess.

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