It's incredible how easily an entire day can be wasted. Not wasted in any illicit consumption way but just whiled way. It started off reasonably well. The city was quiet after the storm of big bro's passing. Work involved sweeping up residues of the riots and the occasional new instance of disgust against private healthcare providers. Lunch was courtesy Empire, relished with little fear of H5N1, R2D2, V2Ours2 or whatever else the WHO has to throw our way. It was good. Then someone came up with a plan to watch a movie. In a freak moment of uncharacteristic decision-making, I opted in. In my defense I was enticed by the prospect of watching basic instinct 2. Or even Eternal sunshine. But nay. A cosmic conspiracy ensured that tickets for the former weren't available and the latter had been taken off to give way for the new (definitely) and improved (supposedly) version of that popular boardgame that got us all addicted - Jumaaanjii (add the required special effects including loud clanging crashing noises, visuals of an elephant, john malkovich and whatever else). This new version is in space boys and girls, outer space. Inner space is a movie no one should ever watch, so outer space it is. It's called, hold your breath boys and girls ZATHURAAAA (repeat with the noises). For crying out loud I could not have had a worse two hours. Appalling. In the age of gollum, godzilla and goldie hawn, why do they come up with a movie with pathetic special effects and a completely rehashed story. Spin the wheel, move ahead n spots, out pops the card, mostly bad things happen for the next 5 minutes, repeat ad nauseum. The good thing was this nubile young thing in the movie, now before you start calling Michael's prosecutor I'm referring to Kirsten Stewart. Unfortunately she's asleep for the first fifteen minutes and frozen for the next thirty and screaming for the remaining bit. If you watch at all, then watch closely you might recognise her from Panic Room. The usual kid movie sop is dished out adequately, throw in the bad effects, precocious kids and for some obscure reason Tim Robbins and there you go. Bheja fry.
Wasted the rest of day since as mentioned above the mind had been short-circuited.
In other things that caused both chagrin and quiet amusement in equal measure, Salman Khan back in the free world speaking of his life and times in alcatraz. There's going to be a movie about this sooner or later. What is with the current trend of depicting celebrity love affairs on 70mm (names have been changed to preserve the anonymity of those involved, of course... But not the faces)? The city supplement continues to amuse.
Listening to 1 giant leap. Deserves a post and it shall get one.
That's just about as much we have time for but before we go, we have just enough time to tell you that it has finally rained in our city. People who will reportedly do anything to bring the dead to life are claiming the showers are a sign that the soul(s) of the departed have reached the pearly gates and are probably walking in as you read this.
Good bye and Good night.
