November 27th, 2008

Good Omens

He saves the world! A lot! Doesn't Will Smith deserve some sugar?

Link time: David "Bad Azz Mofo" Walker writes for MSN about why Will Smith, in almost all of his films, never gets the girl:
Sometimes it's nothing more than a kiss on the lips, other times it's a steamy roll in the sack, but getting the girl is second only to kicking ass and being able to outrun an explosion in defining the masculine virility of the action hero.

To some, the notion of getting the girl being an essential element in defining the action hero may seem outdated and sexist, but it is a tried and true formula that actually works. Think of how many action films you've seen where the action was interrupted by unnecessary romance or sex, which seems randomly thrown in just to remind the audience that the film's stars are desirable. And these rules don't always apply to the boys, because Thelma in Thelma and Louise got the girl -- granted the girl was a guy, but the same principals were involved. Even old geezers like Harrison Ford still get the girl. Hell, Anakin Skywalker got the girl, and he's Darth Vader. This is part of the reason why Will Smith not getting the girl is so troubling...
More at the link, including how twisted the story logic in Hancock had to get to avoid letting Smith get the girl. Think about it. (And rail, ladies, against the fact that one damn handsome man almost never gets to roll in the sack with anyone...)

Eighties Music Knowledge

Not known by me 'til now:

Thomas Dolby played synthesizers on Foreigner's "Waiting For a Girl Like you."

This nugget brought to you by KINK FM reaching 1981 in its "One year per day" programming now through Christmas, in celebration of the station's 40 years on the air. This special programming is teaching me bunches of knowledge.
Blow My Mind


I slightly failed.

My blood donation this morning was foiled by my body deciding after giving up about 80% of a pint that it wasn't going to give up more. Two attendants attempted to adjust the needle (with me studiously looking anywhere but my be-needled arm) so more blood would flow through, but no, it wasn't to be. (I was hooked up for 16 minutes. These donations normally take 10. Twice I've done it in 6.) One of the people who helped me assured me that the Red Cross can still do tests on what I donated, so this blood donation will be useful.

Good turnout for the Thanksgiving blood draw, though. And I have another T-shirt to add to my T-shirt arsenal.

I took it easy for a while in the canteen, then drove down to the SE 33rd and Powell McDonald's for my post-donation lunch. Yes, I can let myself have trash food, plus burgers are decent sources of iron. Plus McDonald's was open.

Time to burn off some calories so I'm more ready for my Rheinlander Thanksgiving!
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iAm iSaid

An admission

One of the songs I sang to myself while keeping myself amused during my blood donation was "The Internet is for Porn."

My blood may have been flowing in the wrong direction (heh)...
Whale fluke

Sharing Phrasing

Tonight's Survivor, a recap of the season so far, used a clip of Sugar admitting the arguments in her tribe were wearing on her. She used the phrase "cancer of the ears." I like that.

For completely unrelated reasons, I also like this bit in a book I'm reading for the first time, Arthur C. Clarke's The City and the Stars, about revamped humans a billion years from now:
In the appropriate circumstances, there was no doubt about the masculinity of any male in Diaspar. It was merely that his equipment was now more neatly packaged when not required; internal stowage had vastly improved upon Nature's original inelegant and indeed downright hazardous arrangements.

One more "almost" thing

I almost had a full meal at the Rheinlander this afternoon.

Most of that meal is in a take-home box in my fridge, because I wound up simply not hungry enough at that time to eat it. My fault: I had too big an early lunch, with the McDonald's quarter pounder, fries and a root beer I'd been craving after my blood donation, and I hadn't burned enough of those calories by the time I reached the Rheinlander at my reserved time.

I hoped the wait from both choosing my meal (I've long been a slow chooser at restaurants) and the time it'd need to cook would be enough for me to reach the hungry stage again, and I was sort of hungry by the time my lentil soup arrived. I ate all that soup; it's good, and it had better be because it's the recipe my family got and adapted for its lentil soup, one of my favorite foods to prepare. It's ugly, but food doesn't have to look good. (I knew that even before starting to watch Survivor back in 2001.) And to be reasonably traditional, at least sorta-kinda, I ordered a turkey dish for my main meal. Okay, that'll be my lunch tomorrow.

Foodus interruptus. I'll just be more careful next time. I should go back to the Rheinlander sooner rather than later with more of an appetite.

The people at the restaurant treated me well. Staffers played fun tunes on accordians: I heard "Do Re Mi," both the original and Homer Simpson's version:
DOUGH, the stuff that buys me beer
RAY, the guy who sells me beer,
ME, the guy who drinks the beer,
FAR, the distance to my beer,
SO, I think I'll have a beer,
LA, la la la la la la beer,
TEA, no thanks, I'm drinking beer,
That will bring us back to...D'OH!
And my waitress, a young woman named Caitrin ("like Caitlin, with an R instead of an L"), was nice and accomodating. Funny, too, in a nice-funny way that doesn't always work, but it worked with her. And when the two older women sitting across from me left, they walked over to me and said they hoped I was having a nice Thanksgiving even without my family. That wound up being a nice gesture.

Oh, by the way, elionwyr, I saw an elegant woman at the restaurant who looked like what you'll likely look like in about two decades. You'll be one elegant elder woman. *nods, then salutes*

P.S. I mentioned over on cleolinda's Thanksgiving Day journal entry what my Thanksgiving plans were. I like the replies that resulted.