I haven't yet, I'm ashamed to say! I couldn't convince my sister to go see it, so I'll probably wait for the DVD, though it's a shame 'cos I know I'm missing out not seeing it in the theater!
(Addiction is a good thing, heeheehee! Not that I know anything about it even though I actually crawled back into a theater after passing out in the lobby just to see Nic cage's 6 second cameo in Grindhouse. I know you can picture it, mwahahahahaha! "Must...see...Nic...!")
My sister has a doctor's appointment on Thursday, so keep your fingers crossed on that one! She's actually had very few of the side effects so far, which is good, but we don't know if it's actually working yet. As for the other stuff, urgh; it's still all up in the air but I'm trying to take at one day at a time, you know? Hugs!
As for me passing out, heh. Both me and my sister were kinda leery about going to Grindhouse, 'cause it's Tarantino and Rodriguez, and was supposed to be at their most disgusting. And it has zombies in it which terrfies me. Saturday went something like this:
40 minutes before movie: My sister suggests we just go, without thinking about it, before we lose the nerve.
20 minutes before movie: Sitting in the theater, chatting and making fun of the silly local ads and the annoying commercials they're blaring at us.
5 minutes into showtime: Previews are playing and I'm feeling really good about myself, though I still insist I don't want popcorn or anything in my stomach, just in case, which turns out to be a wise choice.
10 minutes into actual movie: I've had a good chuckle at the first fake trailer (they're part of the movie's "double feature") and the beginning of the first movie with the castration; I am feeling cocky, thinking I could totally handle it.
20 minutes in: Oh God, popping pustules, big scary needles, general hospital gross-outs. Try desperately to regain control, realize I need some fresh air. Tell my sister I'm going to get some.
25-30 minutes in: Pouring with sweat, I slump against the wall outside the theater, realize I don't want to lie on their disgusting carpet, so I stumble down the hall to the bench in the lobby. Put my head between my knees and black out thinking, "Oh my God, a I feel like I'm dying! A movie killed me! What were we thinking?! Oh, crap!"
I come to with a pounding headache. No one's even noticed me or if they did haven't bothered to see if I was okay. I watch the Spider-Man 3 trailer in the lobby until I'm strong enough to get up.
Go back into the theater and tell Ann, "I just passed out in the lobby, but I'm fine." She worries, I tell her that I left my bag with ehr so she wouldn't come out; I wanted to finish the movie. I was fine throughout the rest.
OMG, darling, you should have just gone to see my 300. Betcha didn't know it was mine, huh? It really wasn't very gory in my honest opinion. And you would definitely NOT have passed out looking at those gorgeous, almost nekkid beauties. Maybe drowned but not passed out. But you would have definitely come home with a tremendous female hard on!!! We do get those don't we? Well...I do!
Let me know if there's anything I can do, or if you ever need to talk.
Man, watching this makes me wanna go see the movie again!
I think all men should get in shape and wear nothing but leather knickers all the time, and then maybe the world would be a happier place. The men might get cold from time to time, but atleast the women would be happier, and that's all that matters. When we're happy, everyone is happy!
Boy, oh boy, I would just love to get my hands on one of those Spartans and get a closer look at those wonderful little knickers.....!!!!
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Have you seen the movie yet?
*whispering-I've only seen it five times now, I am so totally addicted to it!*
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(Addiction is a good thing, heeheehee! Not that I know anything about it even though I actually crawled back into a theater after passing out in the lobby just to see Nic cage's 6 second cameo in Grindhouse. I know you can picture it, mwahahahahaha! "Must...see...Nic...!")
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hugs
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I've been concerned and wish there was something I could do.
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As for me passing out, heh. Both me and my sister were kinda leery about going to Grindhouse, 'cause it's Tarantino and Rodriguez, and was supposed to be at their most disgusting. And it has zombies in it which terrfies me. Saturday went something like this:
40 minutes before movie: My sister suggests we just go, without thinking about it, before we lose the nerve.
20 minutes before movie: Sitting in the theater, chatting and making fun of the silly local ads and the annoying commercials they're blaring at us.
5 minutes into showtime: Previews are playing and I'm feeling really good about myself, though I still insist I don't want popcorn or anything in my stomach, just in case, which turns out to be a wise choice.
10 minutes into actual movie: I've had a good chuckle at the first fake trailer (they're part of the movie's "double feature") and the beginning of the first movie with the castration; I am feeling cocky, thinking I could totally handle it.
15 minutes in: Actually feeling quite woozy; trepidation begins to build. I'm getting anxious.
20 minutes in: Oh God, popping pustules, big scary needles, general hospital gross-outs. Try desperately to regain control, realize I need some fresh air. Tell my sister I'm going to get some.
25-30 minutes in: Pouring with sweat, I slump against the wall outside the theater, realize I don't want to lie on their disgusting carpet, so I stumble down the hall to the bench in the lobby. Put my head between my knees and black out thinking, "Oh my God, a I feel like I'm dying! A movie killed me! What were we thinking?! Oh, crap!"
I come to with a pounding headache. No one's even noticed me or if they did haven't bothered to see if I was okay. I watch the Spider-Man 3 trailer in the lobby until I'm strong enough to get up.
Go back into the theater and tell Ann, "I just passed out in the lobby, but I'm fine." She worries, I tell her that I left my bag with ehr so she wouldn't come out; I wanted to finish the movie. I was fine throughout the rest.
I wear it as a badge of honor *ggg*
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Let me know if there's anything I can do, or if you ever need to talk.
smooches
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I think all men should get in shape and wear nothing but leather knickers all the time, and then maybe the world would be a happier place. The men might get cold from time to time, but atleast the women would be happier, and that's all that matters. When we're happy, everyone is happy!
Boy, oh boy, I would just love to get my hands on one of those Spartans and get a closer look at those wonderful little knickers.....!!!!