Friday, April 06, 2007


So, once again, the little devil eternally on my shoulder that I call Earl, coerced me to sneak out of work at noon today to go see Grindhouse, the new kick-ass film by Robert Rodrigues and Quentin Tarrantino.

Admittedly, it wasn't much of a coercion. I have been slobbering over myself for the past 6 months in fanboy anticipation of this film.

Let me tell you; It did not fucking disappoint.

The first movie, Planet Terror, was Rodrigues' take on a modern-day Zombie movie, and any longtime Slydesblog fan knows that my pants get tight for any and all things Zombie.

The second movie, done by Tarrantino, entitled Death-Proof, was very odd, and I wasn't sure I was digging it at all, until the last 15 minutes pretty much made the rest of it completely worthwhile.

So, playing hooky was worth it. I even got to make Earl pee his pants.

We bought some popcorn and sodas from the concession stand, and made our way into the theatre. I take my jacket off, place my drink in the seat-cup-holder-thingy, and begin to sit down, when I can't help but hear a "tinkling" noise on the floor.

I look around, but see nothing. I ask Earl what the noise is, but he tells me he doesn't hear a thing.

So, thinking I am hearing things, I return to my seat, only to hear the tinkling noise getting louder. It is then that I look down to see that my soda cup has a small hole in the bottom, and Pepsi is spraying out all over me, and the floor.

So, with Earl thinking this is the funniest fucking thing since sliced bread, I panic like a little girl, grab the cup, and run to take it outside.

I'm not sure what I planned to do with the damn thing once I GOT it outside, but outside I went.

I guess as I'm walking, the flimsy paper cup gets an even BIGGER hole, and now this 2,000 ounce Big-Gulp monstrosity is spraying Pepsi like Old Faithfull.

So, here I am, running across the theatre lobby, trying to make it to the concession stand, holding this spewing mess in my hand like I am a bomb squad expert racing to get a ticking nuclear bomb to minimum safe distance before it blows....

I felt like an idiot. But the absolute worst was the fact that as I was running out of the theatre, I was moving in the opposite direction of about 1,000 people going IN.

After giving me a wide birth like I was the Elephant man, each one of them felt the need to look after me and say, "Hey, your soda's leaking".

Hey, thanks for that, jackass. I hadn't noticed the spewing geyser of brown liquid exploding all over my pants. I swear, I must have heard "Your soda's leaking" about 30 times before I got to the counter.

Anyway, after toweling myself off and getting another soda, I got to listen to Earl cackling like a loon for the next 10 minutes until the movie started.

I would have been pretty peeved if not for the fact that the movie was so fucking rad.

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