Last night being fans of all things Jason Statham me and Leia Ewok Village went to see Crank 2: High Voltage. Although at times I could barely believe what I was watching – giant Godzilla-style puppetry, Geri Halliwell as Mrs Chelios – I found it an enjoyable experience, though not up to the masterwork that is the original Crank.
Statham was on squee-inspiring form from the get-go, delighting in being shirtless and shouty for a good proportion of the film. Friction. Amy Smart’s character had evolved into being far less annoying than in the first film and I found myself laughing at actual jokes and in disbelief on an overly frequent basis. Bonjour Motherfucker.
After the late-night exposure to all that testosterone I have spent today hiding what seems to be an almost perma-scowl behind my big sunglasses- Too many slow people in town, too many thoughtless kids, annoying couples that won’t separate to let me through. I want to walk without having to go round you goddamnit! Get a room you fucks.
I have multi-tasked the scowling with lots of self abuse – not in that way – beating myself up about how if I could just grow a pair and make better life choices I might not have woken up alone this morning, and instead would be getting some soft warm manfur action. How I might spend the Bank Holiday in the company of someone who manages to both love and appreciate me rather than spending it feeling glum.
This beating up is something I do on a semi-regular basis, but as previously stated for all the introspection I will continue to waste my time on people who don’t do me justice whilst at the same time knowing that eventually i’ll get left behind and i’ll be devastated. Idiotic.
Maybe i’m just tired. A nap might be of use…
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