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Movie Review: Insidious

I went with 7-8 male coworkers the other day for a “boys night out” viewing of the movie “Insidious”. To sum up: 8 dudes, dark theater, and a scary movie. I think we messed the night up by passing up on bars to chew on franks and nuts while jumping in our seats.

That aside, I must admit it’s weird not seeing a movie with Mrs. Brownman. I opted to sit by myself 1 row in front of the other dudes so I can just turn around and keep up with all the conversations. So essentially I was by myself and felt like more of a loser than had I just sat next to one of the dudes. I’ll say it. Movies must suck if you’re single.

On to the movie. It was shot with real actors as the “demons” in this horror movie and delivered a throwback to old school horror flicks: scary parts happened when you expected them thanks to the loud ass music. It was almost scary to see a shadow accompanied by a loud bang on the piano. Simple yet classic. So chalk up a point for the way the movie was shot.

The plot- eh it’s alright. I found myself laughing a lot during the movie. Absurd in some areas, the acting/casting was weird…especially the lead chick. She played “Jackie Q” in “Get Him to the Greek” so it was weird to see someone with a British accent singing about anal sex now play the role of a scared mother.

Do you get scared in this movie? Not to the point where you believe these things will come and get you. Do you enjoy the concept? Sure. You can appreciate the homage this movie pays to some of the older movies we grew up with. 3.1 Poop Sticks. I felt a bit relieved that I saw this movie- 3.1 Poop Turds’ worth. Delicious. No 5 Sticks because I still wanna come home and fear I might shat my pants.


WTH I like Avril

Brownman: “all my life ive been good but now
Brownman: im like
Brownman: whhhaat
Brownman: the hell”
Brownman: oh that avril and her catchy ways

Mrs. Brownman: what?
Mrs. Brownman: oh Avril Lavigne
Mrs. Brownman: u weirdo

Brownman: suck these nuts wench
Brownman: furry too
Brownman: till i manscape saturday

Double Brunch

We went to brunch yesterday with a couple of friends. Unbeknown to us we arrived to our place of choice that an hour too early. So we went across the street to another place doing brunch. But this place lacked the one thing we want at brunch: drinks! It was 11AM and New York doesn’t serve booze until 12PM. 

I even asked our waiter for booze an he was about to until he decided to ask the time. Now our original destination served unlimited booze as long as you ordered a brunch dish. Clearly we had no intent to full up and waste the money at our interim restaurant so we ordered one dish of pancakes and one dish of scrambled eggs to split amongst 4 people. We even rehearsed a script when ordering with things like “yea we had a rough night” and “oh add a side of scrambled eggs to the pancakes” just so that we seemed pressed to just get something in our stomach and not cheap mofos that were passing time. 

In the end it didn’t matter because through the restaurant window you can easily see us cross the street to our restaurant of choice. 

Blackout At Brownmans

There was a blackout for approximately 30 minutes in my town yesterday. We had no idea how long the outage would last so it was a scramble to try and contact the power company. The internet on our iPhones was beyond spotty when we needed it most but luckily our cells did work. Of course we have no hardwired phones at home so the wireless phones were down as well. When we did get service back there was an automated phone call from the power company which gave estimated times as to when power would be restored- clearly a message of no use when the phone call would only have come through had we a hard wired phone.

When we did reach the power company via cell phone we were told the outage was going to last up to 3 hours.  So the only option at that point was to…talk…to Mrs. Brownman with candles lit in the background.

“Wanna play Scrabble?” I asked her.

“Sure. Wanna play Scategories?”

“Um yea, sure.”

“Too bad I didn’t get to hit the showers yet or else we’d have sex.”

“I’m tired, let’s just lay here and sleep.”

It’s funny how nowadays nature’s contraceptives include TV, Facebook, and lack of a woman shaving her legs.

The Mexican Driveway

I had to rush to shovel our driveway yesterday. Why? The Mexicans were coming in droves to offer their services to shovel. First was a Mexican teen that asked for $60!! Just to shovel a track and the back of my car to get out. That’s it. $60. I tried haggling but the non-English-friendly kid kept saying “no $60” and “I take credit card”. Sure you do buddy. The next Mexican was an older guy but Mrs. Brownman turned his services down while I rushed to my snow shoveling clothes. I fully expect competitive rates to what the 12 year-olds offer – $20 tops.

You Stand

I sat down in the overcrowded train fully knowing that I needed to immediately close my eyes in anticipation of some woman or old person hovering over me. Sure, I should offer the seat. But upon an audit of my  New Years resolutions not once did me giving up my seat for people come up. Especially to the lady now that now hovers over me:

-Smells like cigarettes
-RED denim jeans. 
-Again, RED denim jeans. 

Hmm she hit me with her bag. Okay I’m going to pretend to get up for the next stop….ah I kid! Silly woman and her sense of entitlement to my seat. You stay there while I sit back down in fake-realization that the next stop isn’t mine.

Those People Are Here

For New Year’s Eve Mrs. Brownman and I were stranded in New York as our trip to California was canceled because New York has no clue what it means to shovel now that I cleared from my driveway in 2 hours…not 4 days like our wonderful state. Oh was that a run-on sentence? My bad America. 

We went to my parents’ house where my sister invited her friends. It was surely a bit out of our element since we’re older than the 21 year-olds. All they talk about is drinking and a few inside jokes. The art of storytelling is over. 

A couple of my sis’ friends came down and were of the minority clan. “Where’s my purse?” Mrs. Brownman asked. 

“Oh so a couple of Mexicans and blacks populate the premise and you now must account for your belongings?” I asked. 

“Where’s my purse?”

“Don’t worry, I hid it upstairs because at minimum I anticipated the black guy over there showing up.”