We just got back from the movies. Young Adult, a good movie that in years to come will be called, "The one where Patton Oswalt gets to shag Charlize Theron". <-- Spoiler Alert.
But for now it was our afternoon's entertainment. Anne thought the movie was so-so, but I suspect she dislikes Diablo Cody.
For me, it was a fine movie spoiled by people laughing too much. I realize this is the rantings of an old man, but the humor was nuanced, not giggly. And besides, the laughers were chin-stroking hipsters with ironic Jesus t-shirts and naive thoughts on nihilism.
But stuck between the hipsters and this blog-writing grumpy bastard was an old loon with a big bag of Whoppers. I think she may have swapped-out the bag for a noisier, crunchier bag. It sounded like a fat-camp marching through Fall leaves back there.
To top it off she dropped the bag and Whoppers rolled everywhere. One rested against my shoe. I didn't pick it up and eat it. I only thought about it ... for the last 10 minutes of the movie.