I was determined to see it at the Imax, on account of the extra scenes promised by Mr Michael Bay, who, in my imagination now resembles Patton Oswalt’s version of Robert Evans, so I started a lengthy email thread to see who was up for coming. By the time I got enough replies all sessions, seriously, even the 11.30 were sold out, so after another exhausting email exchange it was decided to go to a regular multiplex. We went for dumplings beforehand, and I brought a bottle of rose and everyone else brought beer, and they drank the beer and I was left alone with my bottle of wine.
I do not believe in wasting good food or drink, so I took it with me to the theatre. I drank wine out of the bottle through a straw during ‘Transformers.’ That might explain why I fell asleep during the lengthy scene where, to quote Clem Bastow, ‘the Decepticon that looks like the Large Hadron Collider anally rape[s] a transforming cement mixer truck.’ I couldn’t follow anything that happened, not one thing, from Shia LeBeef looking confused and nebbish, to Megan Fox pouting and sulking, the very embodiment of all Laura Mulvey’s film theory, to the hideous stereotype robots, paralleled only by Jar Jar Binks in their level of racism.
I walked out.
The only good thing about the film was I got to see the ‘District 9′ trailer on the big screen, and, my how I lost my shit for that. Honestly, the best part of the last two films I’ve seen have been seeing trailers that previously only existed on the internet come to life. I squealed like a little girl during the trailer for ‘Drag me to Hell.’
Movies are making me sad.
This review for Transformers, however, is a work of staggering genius, and it does not make me sad.
Holy Cats I would give my right nut for a bonsai in one of Natalia Ortega Gamez’ split planters. I don’t even have testicles, but if I could I would grow them and then give them up if that’s what it would take to get my acquisitive mitts on one of these little trees. Via Designsponge.
‘Sorry, I didn’t read a single word of this post past the headline. That photo has me mesmerized. He’s like a cross between a cat and a mossy tree deep into the woods. And now I will give him all my money.’
Two stained, traumatised pads of Post-Its, from when I marked essays in bed late at night and put the numeric grade on a Post-It and wondered what had become of my life
A copy of ‘Encyclopaedia of Tropical Fishes’ by Dr Herbert R. Axelrod
Five pens, in varying stages of usefulness
Every belt I have ever needed and not found over the past week
I bookmarked this list of anti-drug PSAs long ago, but did not post them straight away as I am neglectful of my PSA watching duties. The Hanna-Barbera one is pretty amazing, but Pee Wee Herman makes my skin crawl, especially when he’s talking about drugs. Via Neatorama.
Holy Cats I would give my right nut for a bonsai in one of 
‘Sorry, I didn’t read a single word of this post past the headline. That photo has me mesmerized. He’s like a cross between a cat and a mossy tree deep into the woods. And now I will give him all my money.’
Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted a Monday Materialism. I love this