| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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saw it in paris last friday. I really wanted to see it even though I knew it would make me sad, which it did. I apologized to my friend for taking movies so personally. it's all so real and it offers no solution, I told him. also saw celebrity and elizabeth, neither of which stuck to me at all. I didn't look for the soundtrack at the champs elysees virgin megastore (though I did pick up "monica: son histoire" and leafed through the photos section), whose prices depressed me almost as much as the film. my stomach hurt and I thought I had gotten my period, though maybe it was just the pate. the place was ridiculously crowded and it wasn't immediately apparent whether there was a bathroom up by the cafe, and I didn't feel like going to the mcdonald's down the street. so as we shuffled in a line of people through the disney video section, I stuck my hand down my crotch to see what color I'd turn up with, but it wasn't red. so I tried again, deeper, and again no blood. I did it again in line waiting to pay for some blank audio cassettes, this time just because I thought it was funny to be standing there so close among all these families who didn't notice and have my middle finger stuck way up there. my friend laughed as I held my hand up to the light, then smelled for rust. |
*Wow* I though I was just gonna get some insightful music appreaciation. Instead I got Todd S., Paris and a period. That's the closest I've ever been to feeling what it must be like to have an inny instead of an outie. Or Paris. Thanks, I think... |
I'm going to wash my hands now. |
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Check out www.subgenius.com for more info on "Connie" and "Bob", but don't get lost. |