Monday, March 29, 2010

Do you want me to dial the number for you?

Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday afternoon, and both of the younger ladies were off at 12. Guilt ridden by having had my mother collect them due to an uncancellable stupid fucking yoga class, I decided on a trip to the cinema.

"Pick a friend, each of you, any friend you wish, as long as they're free and not too loud, and to Coolock we shall drive!"


"We're going to the movies."

"What are we going to see?"

Jesus, always with the questions.

"I don't know, Nanny McPhee or that dog thing."

Data wanted to see the dog thing. Riker was in favour of Nanny McPhee. Not that the title or content of the potential filmic feast had a lick of fucking influence on their preferences. Data wanted x because Riker wanted y. And vice versa. And so it is and shall be. We ended up at the dog thing because Riker makes more noise when she loses. Not really. It was because of the time. Or something. Honest.

I thought we we're going, essentially, to Beethoven IV. I expected adventures, dogs knocking shit down for bad guys to fall over, lots of cute kids and stupid sexist stereotypes and Richard Gere blinking. Me and Riker and Riker's friend Ali and and Data and Data's friend Medb, whose name is pronounced May Ve and not Med uh buh, no, really, that's what we all expected. And then nothing happened for forty-five minutes. But it was an oddly enjoyable nothing.

But then there was death and loss and loyalty and then more death. And Riker wept and Ali giggled and Data shifted and Medb shouted and yes, Gimme also wept and cried and wept some more. I don't even fucking like dogs. It was the loyalty, you see. It's in short supply around here. Riker? She can take me or leave me. Data? She'd happily trade me for a Cornetto. Common Law? Certainly my best bet but if I were to die by motorist tomorrow (fingers crossed, right Steph? You and me both) I'd like to think that she'd find another grumpy insecure cunt to make her the odd latte. No, what I need, perhaps even more than a full carbon frame, is a nice big dog. A movie dog, that walks itself and never poops and waits for me by the train station even though I'm a bad, bad man, who if not yet dead is most certainly dead inside. That's what I need.

9 Johns and Janes for the comment whore:

Conan Drumm said...

You wetted, at a Richard Gere film?

Truth is you internalised your feelings (that old 'method' thing) and then when you went to Galway everything came out. It was nobody's fault, really.

No, correction, it's Hajiki Gere's fault. The mutt and his waiting game.

fatmammycat said...

Forget the cinema, have them make their own child like films.

I hear the kids' script for The Accused is stellar.

gimme a minute said...

I did come home from that movie and write the pre-awards post.

Let's just add that to the pile of this weekend's coincidences.

That is fudging brilliant. I'm guessing a drama teacher with Dead Poet's Society aspirations got in some serious ship for that.

Twenty Major said...


Medbh said...

Gimme, it had to be better than the Nanny McPhee garbage.

FMC, the little girl in the huge frizzy wig is the best.

Twenty, that picture started the waterworks. Sniff.

gimme a minute said...

Where can I buy that dog?

Hmm, the first one was quite acceptable, although I could have done without Common Law sighing over Colin Firth. I'll have seen the second one by the end of the Easter break, and I doubt it will have moved me either to tears or to the purchase of a large animal.

chicknamedhermia said...

"...and not too loud" it. I was smush the faces of obnoxious loud children.

And I also LOVE the fact you named your kids after Star Trek: The Next Generation characters....even if it is only for your blog. If they're their real need to be sainted or something!

Conan Drumm said...

With you on Nanny McPhee MK1

gimme a minute said...

Given the amount of abuse they get at school, I don't think they'll be supporting my canonisation.

The Colin Firth sighing? Yes, very annoying.

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