Isn't it sad that vampires would get sick if they ate cake batter ice cream?

I went to see Underworld: Evolution on Sunday. I tried to drive to the Kabuki 8 theater in Japantown because I have free AMC tickets and because I was assured by my friend the Internet that there was parking. I almost ended up on the Bay Bridge when I didn't psychically divine that I needed to be in the left hand lane. So I turned around and went to the Century 20 back in the DC. I'll probably try again this weekend. What to see??

Evolution was exactly what it was billed as, a really sleek vampire flick. Visually stunning I would say (especially to people like Chrissy who like special effects. But do they hate vampires as much as they hate the gays in South Carolina? By which I mean will they boycott it like they did Brokeback Mountain, which I missed my chance to see apparently?). The special effects were well done. I really liked that anything that would look shitty they had take place as action off-screen. Super fast healing, which obviously all vampires ever have, always looks bad on screen. Don't know why, either because the technology isn't there or because no one can comprehend what that would look like. All the super fast healing took place off-screen and in a way that didn't make you think, That's stupid, why didn't they show that? So anyway, highly predictable, but fun. And for the boys, who aren't reading this blog, yes, Kate Beckinsale's husband directed this one too so there are plenty of gratuitous shots of leather-clad ass.

After that, I decided to get Birthday Cake Remix from Cold Stone (no, mummy, I don't do this often, but I was excited that it was back). It was as good as ever which is a relief. I did notice that they changed the color of the cake batter ice cream. Do you think that when people got the salmonella they puked up blue? That would be about the only good reason to change the ice cream to a pale beige. Plus, it would be kind of like that cereal with the red dye in it in Cujo. All the kids got sick, from the flu and whatever kids get sick from, and they puked dark red from the cereal. So their parents thought they were puking blood. Stephen King's awesome . . .

OH! OH GOD IT'S EVERYWHERE! IT'S IN MY RACCOON WOUNDS!

So remember how I kidded that my roommates wouldn't remember to take out the trash while I was away? I didn't kid. So there's trash everywhere (hence the title, like, duh!). The trash cans outside are full and there are a couple of bags of trash just sitting beside them. I don't want to take out the trash that's in the kitchen because there's nowhere to put it. So I tried to push down the trash. Surprise! There's fish head in my trash can! I don't know the fish it came from, but I'm worried for Nemo. It's pretty funny. I mean I'm sure other people have had fish heads in their trash can before, but not in my family. My mom can't stand the smell of fish. So this head staring back at me, well, it just shocked me.

I went to Goodwill the second day I was back. I thought about it but was too tired the first day. I got some yarn for a couple bucks. Yarn is evil by the way. I realized, halfway through the scarf I was making for Ali that I wasn't knitting at all but doing something with needles that I had made up entirely on my own. I've now restarted it. I suppose it's for the best anyway because one stripe was all messy and pluffy. I would never have been able to deal with it and would have had to pull it off Ali's neck if I ever saw her wearing it. I'm now going to knit it in stockinette stitch so that I get practice knitting and purling and so that it looks prettier.

Are all the boys gone now? Scared off by my bad-ass needles? Good, we didn't need them anyway.

I also picked up The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys. I love it so far, but it remains to be seen if the end comes as such a shock that it becomes a tragicomedy. Chrissy, be sure that I'll let you know . . .

Starting a new round of blogthings

Sorry, but I had to post this one.

You Are Japanese Food

Strange yet delicious. Contrary to popular belief, you're not always eaten raw.

What Kind of Food Are You?

I know what you're thinking . . .

You're thinking it's been nearly a month since that bitch fucking posted. Where the hell is she? How do I know that's what your thinking? Not because I'm psychic, though I am. I know that you're thinking that because that's what I've been thinking about all of you. Seriously, what the hell happened?

So here's my solution, the last half of December didn't count. Seriously, it's all a redo. So get to updating.

In other news, I was briefly in love during the non-counting part of December. On the BART to Oakland, which took a long time, there was a boy with a suitcase who when he got off the train shoved the book he was reading into his pocket. I fell in love. Here was a boy who traveled and was so familiar with taking books everywhere he went that he just shoved it in his pocket. Then my brain started to put together the letters that I had seen on the book before it went in the aforementioned pocket of the boy I loved. It was a Norman Mailer book. I fell out of love. Le sigh.

Also, knitting is hard. However, I'll look a lot more like the bad-ass I am when I knit in public with my hot pink knitting needles of death. Once I get the hang of the knitting stuff, I'm going to make the skull and crossbones sweater from the Stitch 'n' Bitch book my sis bought me for Xmas. Not for me. For my sis, because let's face it, she's not an altruist. She bought me that book to get some gifts of her own. That's cool though.

This will be my last point (because I want to avoid being like WonderTool the master of the long post). Have you ever listened to the words to Karma Chameleon? One of the lines is, "Every day is like the Bible. You're my lover, not my rival." What the hell does that mean? Anyone?