Dude. This weekend is gonna rock. I met this chick the other night. Even though I said I’d stay away from the young ones, I don’t care. ( She’s fucking hot )
I’m not sure what we’re gonna do, though. I think I’m movied out. I saw I, Robot Tuesday evening, and it was cool. I don’t know what crack Joel was smoking. It doesn’t necessarily follow the Asimov stories, but it’s still a good story in its own right.
On Tuesday, I saw King Arthur, which was ok. All of the criticism I’d seen about the movie concerned it being gratiotous on all levels. but really the movie was very tastsfully done, and the only gratuitous bits were Arthur’s political meanderings.
Overall it felt like it was meant to be a lot longer but was mercilessly slashed. The worst effect of the editing? You don’t get to know the characters very well. You feel like you know Guinevere and one of Arthur’s knights (the one with the big, fucking axe). This may be because those two actors did a good job of acting.
Wednesday I saw Catwoman due to Debbi’s immense kindness. Whenever she hears the Ghostbusters song and they say “who’re you gonna call?” She says “Austin!” It’s possible I owe her some chocolate cake.
And finally, the Object A website is available with submission guidelines and some information about our background so we don’t seem like a fly-by-night operation. We’re more like a stay-up-late-doing-nothing-productive operation, but shhhhh… don’t tell no one. If you enquired about being an editor, you should receive an email from me this weekend.
Otherwise, the rest of you maggots best wish me luck. I have an important presentation for work on Monday, and if I do well, the entire world will be officially obliged to kiss my ass. You want to get on my good side early.
[Edited to add] Last night, before Underworld, I saw the Murano glass exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts. On Thursday, the museum is free. Some of the glass was seriously awesome. I say glass, but it was mostly a bunch of vases and such. And they were indescribably beautiful. Go see.
I also ran into Samantha there, tooling like a hussey through the museum’s barely lit underground tunnels. The scandal!
While I was there, I also glimpsed a little of the Inverted Utopias: avant-garde art in Latin America, and it looked keen. Especially neat is an installation piece outside the front door of the museum that you can walk into. It’s yellow and just swallows you whole. And inside, it’s kind of like swimming. It’s so cool.
I still need to go to the Menil, but someone refuses to go with me.
(Contrary to vicious internet rumour, this week is not national blow-job week. An exhaustive poll of men at Underworld last night revealed this was either a blatant rumour or a vast conspiracy by women, a femspiracy, to cover up the existence of this holiday. The nation mourns.