You girls keep me young
Hello, Internets. I’m back!
Okay, not really. I’m back in the sense that I have internets and all that. But I haven’t much to say, so I don’t want to bore you with random nothingness.
So lately (the past week) I’ve gone from being mildly aware of this guy (photo taken most daringly from Thewlis Rox) to being like, obsessed of him, owing in large part to the fact that he wrote a book, which is quite good. I’ve seen David Thewlis in four movies and didn’t realize he was in one of them until the other day. That’s okay though, because I only saw that movie once. Because Jeremy Irons was in it. It wasn’t that good, if I remember correctly. JI was shagging his son’s fiance or something. IDK. His son fell like 80 stories to his death when he walked in on JI and his woman. DT was a detective. Or something.
Okay, so the summer that Island of Dr. Moreau started playing on movie channels, we got Starz, and since I didn’t do anything on my summer breaks but sit on my butt and watch movies (because seriously, it gets hot in Oklahoma), I watched it. And it freaked me out. A lot. But I kept watching it, like obsessively, every time it came on. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that sensible women are attracted to Val Kilmer (okay, I’ve since dislodged that lie from my brain) but I was dually freaked out and fascinated by…GUESS. JUST GUESS. Right. So I remember his character as being kind of a dick or something. IDK. I’d watch the movie again if I didn’t think it’d give me nightmares for a month. I mean, that movie is p/m full of nargles. CAPSFAX.
But it’s nice to obsess over someone intelligent, articulate, and British (he’s nice and pasty in that photo I linked, isn’t he? It’s kind of dreamy.) because it keeps me from thinking about how much of a slag the 1987 Denver Broncos are. Except for all those times that I think about how much of a slag the 1987 Denver Broncos are.
IDK, Internets. Life is tricksy sometimes. But God love ya, you girls keep me young.