Midnight snackin'

Just went downstairs to get a tuna fish sandwich, flipped on the TV, and was confronted with the gorgeous visage that is Alan Rickman in "Sense and Sensibility." Mmm ... tortured Regency goodness.

Kate Winslet, you idiot. You should have been chasing after him from day one. "Give me an occupation, Miss Dashwood, or I shall run mad"? Kate, you dip. No, I think I'll chase after Skank-Boy with the impressively massive Regency pompadour. Sheesh.

It should be like a rule in every movie -- it doesn't matter whether Alan Rickman's playing the bad guy or the good guy ... if he's there, jump his ass. "Robin Hood" is the perfect example. Why the hell would anyone want to fall in love with a Robin Hood who doesn't even bother to speak with a bloody British accent? Jesus, my British accent blows, too, Costner, but I'd at least try. Maybe you've taken a look at your tax return every year. For some ungodly reason I still can't understand, it says, "Actor." I have no idea why, because it's not like you ever try it out. Playing Robin Hood and not using a British accent is like being hired as a chef and saying, "Oh, I'm not planning to cook, but hey, I'm cute, so it's not like the customers will care." (Newflash, schmucko -- you're not all that cute anymore. You and James van der Beek have a head size thing. It's frightening, really. You warp the minds of small children when you put on hats. I just thought you should know.)

For Christ's sake, Costner, Alan bothered to go out and learn a British accent! (Okay, by being born in Britain, raised in Britain, living in Britain, and calling it his homeland for his entire life, but let's not nitpick here.)

Sheesh. Stupid Costner and his massive forehead. You suck.

Going to see The Hulk ...

... or so I've been told by my brother.

"Are we going to see The Hulk?"
"Bryan, I have no money."
"Yeah, but are we going to see The Hulk?"
"I can't afford to."
"Well, yeah, but are we going to see The Hulk?"

*Sigh*

And the truth is that for once ... *gasp* ... I really don't feel like going to see The Hulk, not even if it means a medium bag of Cinemark popcorn. (The more salt, the better. There'd better be enough salt on that sucker so that when I leave the theater, I run the risk of being licked by stray deer.)

But thinking on it, I've decided that since I haven't nominated a Flavor in a while, it's only fair to see it just so I can nominate Eric Bana. Besides, Jennifer Connelly's in it, and okay, if I had to look like anyone in Hollywood, I would definitely pick her right about now. And hey, maybe while I'm watching the movie, if I squint, I can see Paul Bettany standing off on the sidelines, looking all pasty and adorable. Mmmm ... tasty redheaded goodness.

I know I usually don't like guys who are that much taller than me, but I'd be willing to to pull on climbing gear and scale that bastard if it meant I could make him snark romantically in that yummy accent.

Note: You realize, of course, that this is all over a scrawny, pale, kinda funny-looking guy who, if he'd ended up with the stereotypical Brit-teeth, would look incredibly like Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel? Madness, I tell you!

Hee. I love this.

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Just got back from seeing "The Hulk"

And no spoilers, but I just have one thing to say.

Ahem.

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