The Punisher was not great. It wasn't terrible, but I really cannot recommend it. Which is a shame, because i adore both Ray Stevenson and Dominic West. A lot of people said this movie was really gory, but the way they did it- all quick cuts and choppy editing- it wasn't really that disturbing. Frankly, the Standard Nutjob Guy just wasn't scary. And the script was kind of... meh. So yeah. I don't recommend it.
I do, however, recommend Coney Island's Human Blockhead, the hoppiest lager I believe I have ever tasted. I would never have purchased it (I am not a lager lady), but a co-worker had one and allowed me a sip and I was sold.
On Sunday I had a wine tasting at Harry Bisset's. Eight wines, all white, and about half of them were perfectly drinkable (to me), but they still don't really float my boat the way a good red does. I had to work, but since several friends were there celebrating a birthday I got to wait on them and it was a pretty good time. When I got home the b.h. had finished making manicotti for our dinner party and, as an added bonus, had also made homemade granola bars a la Alt0n Br0wn. Fabulous. I changed clothes and packed up a bottle of Cotes du Rhone and we headed for Casa Del D & S.
Dinner was wonderful, and again the conversation was very animated- we went from the cycle of life and death to goat testicles and back again. I am starting to wish that I could conceal a tape recorder under the table for later use in a screenplay.
Monday I ran some errands, paid some bills, and walked the dogs. I got called in to work because my manager injured himself in a skate-boarding accident and they needed a cash-register monkey and I need money so it worked out well for everyone.
Early on in the evening, while the day crew was still there, J and I found ourselves together behind the counter when a very sketchy, very drunk guy came in asking the price of a half pint of shitty whiskey. I told him. He asked the price of the full pint. I told him. He fumbled through his pockets, counting out three dollar bills and then a large-ish pile of change. He was fragrant. J was waiting on him, but I was standing several feet away in an attempt to provide moral support and an out if the guy got too chatty.
"You take this? How much is this worth?", he cackled, placing a large chunk of gods only know what on the counter. We ignored him and waited while he dug for more change. He was a few cents short, and in my desperation to stop smelling him I told him we'd manage.
He picked up the chunk again, asking
"How much'll you give me for this?" and handing it to J, who put his hand out.
"What is it?" asked J.
"It's a tooth." Jay jerked his hand away like he had touched a hot stove, fortunately missing the dropped tooth.
"Where'd you get it?"
"It's mine. It came from right here." I turned my back, gagging a little and making myself busy looking for nothing in particular as the guy pulled his cheek open with his filthy fingers to show J a gaping hole in his mouth.
Fucking thing wasn't even gold. What a cheapskate.
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