Talking with Dad

Man, nothing cheers me up more then a phone conversation with Dad. You know, especially when we're talking about baseball, and he refers to Jose Contreras and Carlos Zambrano as "Two worthless Spics with control issues."

Oh Dad, I love you.

So, I saw Spiderman 3 today. While I wasn't totally pissed off and thought the movie was garbage like the overwhelming popular opinion, I did find the end of the movie a little.... meh. Trust me, I'll keep this spoiler-free, in case you haven't seen the movie. Essentially, the first 90 minutes or so was what everyone wanted to see. Tons of action with some of the mushy love bull shit that should be reserved for a Mandy Moore movie mixed in sparingly. Heads were rolling, faces melted, groins popped like boiling water, PLUS... Bruce Campbell was in it, which increased the actual ticket value to $49.99.

The last 45 minutes or so.... complete and total rash. Like.... sure, there were some hi-octane action sequences, and even some explosions, which are a necessity to any movie, but most of it was Kirstin Dunst's character making out with Spiderman's butt-hole, while simultaneously creating some ridiculous love triangle/paradox.

Gay.

Eh, but whatever, it was a matinée, and the first time I had gotten a chance to see a movie in the theaters since the Aqua Teen movie AKA "Best 90 minutes of my life."

"That's a direct order from the Commander-In-Fun!"