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Is it wrong of me that when I saw the headline, Crab Invasion Stuns Australian Scientists, my first thought was, "Well, did you sleep with American coeds?"
Turns out it was an invasion of the crustacean kind rather than the venereal. That's not that much better, really, as far as I'm concerned. I'm an arachnophobe of the first water, and to me, crabs are just spiders with battle armor and hopped up on steroids. The only good crab is a steamed crab served with butter, and that photo of hundreds of crabs getting cozy on the sea floor is the stuff of nightmares. Imagine inadvertently stepping into them while out for a wade. ~shudder~
Equally horrifying are the recent pictures of Alan Rickman coming out of Canada. I know he's 59, and I know you can't be young forever, but dear God, has he been clobbered with the Aging Stick. The bloated face, drooping eyelids, and unsightly neck wattles shocked me. He's gone from thirty-five to sixty overnight, bless him. That voice could still melt butter and my drawers, though, so I think he'll retain his spot on my Bonk List. It's just...wow. At least he's seen reason and stopped with the atrocious, brassy hair dye. If it's a choice between grey and looking like a myopic lemur on the lam, I'll take the grey.
I hope he'll be able to be Snape for Potters 5-7, but with his rapid aging and the current rate of production, I don't know. The pancake isn't hiding the age anymore, and they've already aged up James and Lily once. It's going to be a tough row to hoe. I hope it can be done, because Rickman is Snape to me, but movie magic has its limits, and if things don't change, we'll have AARP!Snape and Dentucreme!Lily trysting 'neath the old oak tree.
Ah, well. I guess this means Eric Szmanda ascends a rung or three on the Bonk List ladder. Greg, he's what's for dinner.
Well, off to get 1200 words of something, anything from brain to screen.
Turns out it was an invasion of the crustacean kind rather than the venereal. That's not that much better, really, as far as I'm concerned. I'm an arachnophobe of the first water, and to me, crabs are just spiders with battle armor and hopped up on steroids. The only good crab is a steamed crab served with butter, and that photo of hundreds of crabs getting cozy on the sea floor is the stuff of nightmares. Imagine inadvertently stepping into them while out for a wade. ~shudder~
Equally horrifying are the recent pictures of Alan Rickman coming out of Canada. I know he's 59, and I know you can't be young forever, but dear God, has he been clobbered with the Aging Stick. The bloated face, drooping eyelids, and unsightly neck wattles shocked me. He's gone from thirty-five to sixty overnight, bless him. That voice could still melt butter and my drawers, though, so I think he'll retain his spot on my Bonk List. It's just...wow. At least he's seen reason and stopped with the atrocious, brassy hair dye. If it's a choice between grey and looking like a myopic lemur on the lam, I'll take the grey.
I hope he'll be able to be Snape for Potters 5-7, but with his rapid aging and the current rate of production, I don't know. The pancake isn't hiding the age anymore, and they've already aged up James and Lily once. It's going to be a tough row to hoe. I hope it can be done, because Rickman is Snape to me, but movie magic has its limits, and if things don't change, we'll have AARP!Snape and Dentucreme!Lily trysting 'neath the old oak tree.
Ah, well. I guess this means Eric Szmanda ascends a rung or three on the Bonk List ladder. Greg, he's what's for dinner.
Well, off to get 1200 words of something, anything from brain to screen.