Thursday, March 10, 2011

Here Today, Blog Tomorrow #10

A funny thing happened at work today. I was at my station, listening to my iPod when I ran out of movies and songs I wanted to listen to so I decided to breeze through some audiobooks. I came across one by Alex Damian. His book The Doomsday Club is a free podiobook. It's a very weird story where you are the main character. It drops you right in the middle of the action when a group of stoners accidentally kill a man threatening to take away their weed. The story happens at a breakneck pace, with all the close calls and twists that remind me of A Simple Plan, where every plan is just another deeper hole dug. Anyway, while I was listening, really digging it, there was a part in the story where a character tries to make a bomb using kidney beans and other household chemicals. Somewhere in there, I think when they call the guy Mr. Wizard, I heard a sound I wasn't too sure of. I turned the volume up and, to my surprise, heard what sounded like the author farting while he was speaking his book. It gave me a good laugh. But when I returned home, and turned it up for my wife to hear, she discovered that it was a glitch in the editing, not someone passing gas as I previously thought.

It wouldn't surprise me though. I've heard people clear their throats in Harry Potter books on Cd, I've heard someone fart on the audiobook Revolutionary Road and I've heard several authors, reading their own works, having their stomachs noisily groan for food. Neil Gaimen also complains that this new recording technology picks up that sort of thing every time, forcing him to repeat the take.

I head to the library before heading home to pick up Dinner for Schmucks. Also, I ask the reference desk how I can get my books in their library. The woman takes down my info and tells me to bring in two copies and, if they like them, they'll buy some stock and put it on the shelves.

When I come home my wife and I chill a bit, joke with each other and then eat some leftovers. I make myself a chocolate milkshake and we sit down to watch Dinner For Scmhucks. But before I dish on that, I just have to say that Vampire's Assistant was a complete letdown. I wasn't sure if John C. Reily could tackle the part and I still don't know. The story revolves around freaks living together in a traveling show, like the Ringling Brothers, only these freaks have a vampire named Crepsley. He takes on an assistant because a war is brewing and soon...gasp...the truce will be broken. Dum, dum, dum!

The story was confusing and melodramatic, the plot was washed in mystery, but not the good kind, with foreshadowing that really screams harry potter. I thought this movie would be a let down but, man, I had no idea how big. As far as changing the vampire mythos goes: in this movie the vampires have super spit (Really?) that heals their wounds, they have super speed which is called Flitting (Looks like a blur), are not overwhelmed with a compulsion to drink blood but do need it to replenish their strength and, oh, this is a kicker, there are another, crueler group of vampires, separated from the good ones because these guys have bloodlust and kill people. They are called Vampanese. Really?

But, oh well, I knew what I was getting into. Maybe I should've read the book.

As we tried to watch Dinner for Schmucks, our cat Bandit made himself known by continually meowing in our faces. We did everything we could. We played with him, made sure he was fed, cleaned his litter box but he would just not keep quiet. By the time the movie was nearing the end, we were getting an earful of Bandit. And yet, when I paused the movie, he did not say anything. The movie wasn't good. The first half was alright but it went downhill pretty fast. While watching Vampire's Assistant he also meowed repeatedly at that one. Which leads me to believe that he's trying to save us from bad movies.

The night ends with me calling my father, just having a chat about how well the restaurant's coming and what good western movies he reccomends. My wife and I talk some more than I head to bed. No writing. I figure I can save that for the weekend, when I have some free time.

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