Karsten Olson (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} crunchochango) wrote,@ 2007-12-20 10:30:00 |
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I finally
talked Lindsay into going to see Beowulf in 3D last night, and came to a number of important conclusions during the course of the movie;
1. Beowulf is one bad, bad mama jama.
2. I don't yell my own name half as much as I should. During my absolute favorite scene, Beowulf battles three enormous sea monters, killing two before the third swallows him whole. Moments later he erupts from the eye socket of the serpent to stand on its head towering hundreds of feet above the ocean. Dripping gore (and mostly naked, which is apparently just how he rolls), Beowulf roars "BEOWULF!" before plunging into the ocean. The tricky bit about me yelling my own name is I can't remember the last time I killed anything larger than a small insect. Lindsay and Tim suggested I could have yelled my name when I slipped off the pedals of my bike when the rear tire locked up and my groin was repeatedly nailed by the steel top tube, but had I opened my mouth during this incidence I'm pretty sure the only thing that would have come out is "mmphoooogghcOWOWOWooooooooh...(soft sobs/moans)." It occurred to me that maybe the bed room would be a good place, as at least that would be sure to befuddle significant others. It's hard to say, since my only living role model is
3. Steve Holt, son of G.O.B. Blooth, the modern day Beowulf. God bless you Steve.
More importantly, stay tuned for the Yves Gérard project which Tim and I have been working feverishly on for the past two nights. Rest assured, it will be worth the wait.
talked Lindsay into going to see Beowulf in 3D last night, and came to a number of important conclusions during the course of the movie;
1. Beowulf is one bad, bad mama jama.
2. I don't yell my own name half as much as I should. During my absolute favorite scene, Beowulf battles three enormous sea monters, killing two before the third swallows him whole. Moments later he erupts from the eye socket of the serpent to stand on its head towering hundreds of feet above the ocean. Dripping gore (and mostly naked, which is apparently just how he rolls), Beowulf roars "BEOWULF!" before plunging into the ocean. The tricky bit about me yelling my own name is I can't remember the last time I killed anything larger than a small insect. Lindsay and Tim suggested I could have yelled my name when I slipped off the pedals of my bike when the rear tire locked up and my groin was repeatedly nailed by the steel top tube, but had I opened my mouth during this incidence I'm pretty sure the only thing that would have come out is "mmphoooogghcOWOWOWooooooooh...(soft sobs/moans)." It occurred to me that maybe the bed room would be a good place, as at least that would be sure to befuddle significant others. It's hard to say, since my only living role model is
3. Steve Holt, son of G.O.B. Blooth, the modern day Beowulf. God bless you Steve.
More importantly, stay tuned for the Yves Gérard project which Tim and I have been working feverishly on for the past two nights. Rest assured, it will be worth the wait.
