Last night Chris and I attended the midnight premiere for Watchmen, and it was epic. Both Chris and I will be making a blog with our own personal reviews however this particular blog is to clue you in about the idiots we had to tolerate for 2 hours prior to the movie starting.

Earlier in the day we had picked up our tickets and some snackies because, let’s be honest, the prices for snacks at the theatre are absolutely ridiculous.

After doing some other things throughout the day we got ready and headed off to Edwards Theatre. Immediately we were shocked that there wasn’t a line outside. I made a remark to Chris that since it was cold, maybe they were allowing the line to be inside. He quickly disputed my idea stating that when the third Matrix movie was released it was December and they had the lines outside. Listening to him, I thought that maybe in the Fresno/Clovis area there weren’t a lot of Watchmen fans.

Since we already had our tickets we went on in and Chris asked if they were allowing the line to be inside, in which he was answered with a “yes.” Ah HAH! I was correct!

Chris had already eaten but I was starved but at 10:00 pm, my choices in the area were really limited. Most of the eating establishments in the area were closed so I had to accept my fate and get raped by the concession stand. Chris went to get our place in line while I proceeded to order. The hotdog I got was gross. The bun was dry and I seriously wanted to die after eating it. The soft pretzel I got was just OK but for some reason the salt on it really crunched between my teeth and I got worried! I thought… “oh great, here I go cracking a tooth on something so silly as salt.” Luckily my chompers were fine (tomorrow is a different story for when I go to the dentist…ugh) and I think I had like 8 sips from the large soda I got.

$5.50 for a large soda! I couldn’t believe it!

I thought I as going to have a heart attack because, and this might make me sound old, I remember a time where I could get a large soda for under $2.50. What made me shake my head was the fact that a medium was $5.00 yet for 50 cents more you could get the large which was significantly larger and came with free refills. What a fucking jip!

Anyhoo… luck was on our side because we got to actually sit in the theatre and wait rather than having to wait outside or stand for an hour and a half however I got the wonderful honor of having some asshole sitting next to me.

Chris was tired and fell asleep on my shoulder for a little over an hour so he didn’t get the pleasure of hearing the douche.

Here is how it went:

A guy sat two seats to the right of me and he was fine. Very quiet, kept to himself, no problem. 15 minutes after he sat down a large group of his friends arrived. He moved further down, closer to the aisle, and I got some loud mouth prick 3 seats away.

I really wanted to smack the guy… but I refrained.

This guy was under the sad assumption that he was indeed Chris Rock. I got to hear him rattle on and on about comic movies. Hearing him rant about comic movies made me sick to my stomach because geeks have a bad rep as is. We don’t need this dick making us look worse.

He constantly used the word son as in, “Yo, that shit was tight son!” I also got to hear “n***a” an obscene amount of times.

“Oh fuck Spiderman son! Fucking Peter Parker is a broke ass n***a!”

“Watchmen is like X-Men on drugs son. It’s a dark ass comic.”

“Iron Man is a straight up pimp. He’s got money, bitches, and a suit made of iron n***a!”

Never in my life have I valued the true English language until last night.

After more of his stupid comments Chris finlly woke up, just in time for them to air “The Twenty” which is a segment that lasts for 20 minutes right before the previews begin. Sometimes they show some decent stuff like trivia, spoilers for popular TV shows, and other stuff.

Instead of getting something good we got to hear/see (for the millionth time mind you) Kid Rocks shitty song about the military. It’s not a good song, he can’t sing to save his life, and I really don’t care to hear it while I am waiting for a movie.

Finally after suffering through about two hours of bullshit the lights went down, the previews started, and that is where this blog will end because what happened after that is meant for an entirely different blog.

Fun times though, eh?

- She Who Has The Last Word

A few weeks ago I submitted a support ticket to my company’s IT department regarding my mouse.  It was a standard optical mouse, and for the most part worked fine, except for the scroll wheel, which refused to scroll.  I use the scroll wheel often, so this was a problem.  I requested a replacement mouse, and was provided with one shortly thereafter.  However, it seems to me that my fortunes are now lower than they were with the stuck scroll wheel.

Why, do you ask?  I can answer that in six simple words.

It is not an optical mouse.

Anyone who has used the style of mouse before optical came to be should know of the shortfalls that come with it.  Today, I found myself once again pulling the mouse ball from the bottom and scraping the collected gunk from the three wheels to restore mouse functionality.

I haven’t had to do that for years.

It’s not a good nostalgiac feeling.

-Because I said so

Around 2 PM today I took Donnie out for a walk so that he could do his business. To the right of our apartment door there is a nice grassy area that goes the entire length of the complex. I typically take him around that area instead of through gravel or on pavement.

I noticed that he kept wanting to go towards the parking lot but there really is no grass in that area except for what is in front of our bastard neighbors. After him only going pee I decided to let him roam around the area he kept tugging me to.

He started to go around their front door and immediately the first thought in my head was, “Oh no, watch him totally take a dump on their doorstep.” I don’t care for the neighbors and would have gotten a laugh out of it. Instead he started pacing around their grass and totally dropped a fat one.

Even though I despise the guy living next to me I did the right thing by picking it up and throwing it away (not with my bare hands you sickos, but with the little doggie baggy thing we have attached to his leash).

Thank you Donnie for taking a much needed shit on our neighbors. You truly are a badass dog!

- She Who Has The Last Word

Lindsey and I have a dog named Donnie.  We did not name him.  We adopted him in May of 2008, at the ripe old age of 4 years, and the name came with him.  I like to think it’s short for something cool, like Donatello.  More likely, it’s an homage to Donnie from the New Kids on the Block.

Such is life.

Anyway, we come to the point of our rambling.  We have not paid a pet deposit to our new apartment complex, so he can not be with us quite yet.  He is currently residing at my mother’s house.  While there is a lot of room for him to play (and crap all over, the little shit machine), he does not receive a great deal of attention.  With my schedule the way it was last week, I wasn’t able to make it over to see him, which means he hasn’t seen me in almost (but not quite) two weeks.  As I entered the garage this afternoon and called to him, he bolted for me, almost sliding into the wall (he has a hard time slowing down on cement, it makes him slide in a silly way).  Before I was able to kneel down to start petting him, he ran up and started licking the closest thing he could reach: my jeans, a little less than knee high (he’s a terrier-chihuahua mix, very short little shitter).  He missed me very much, and made quite the fool of himself when he saw me (the little shit factory that he is).

He shit on the carpet once.  A very nice, very expensive Persian hand-woven rug.  He also shit on the garage welcome mat, but I didn’t notice that one until I had ruined my favorite flip-flops in it.  You’ll just have to pardon me for holding his fascination with shitting all over creation against him.

-Because I said so