morgan and i went to see this poophole of a movie and pretty much loved it.
best part:
deadboobs.
worst part:
glen/glenda.
its presence alone changed the tone of the movie from 'this is hilariously bad' to 'this is pissing me off and making me feel uncomfortable.'
being around children is really not something i'm especially fond of. however tonight, when playing with a five year old girl named madra, i was enchanted with a story she came up with.
she was playing with her precious moments dolls, and the two she had picked to embody were sisters. she prodded me to inquire about their parents, and the story of them. she said, 'our parents were mother nature and god. they died because they were attacked and killed by indians during the war. the indians chased us but we ran to our car and got away.'
if only we could still blame everything on the indians. ah, to be young again.