Tangents & The Times

So, the other day, Dudefriend was like, “We should go see Avatar.”
And I looked at him, stifled my LOLz and was like, “Okay, sure.”
But I totally DID NOT MEAN IT.
I just didn’t want to be that ladyfriend, ya know?
Which I already kinda am.
I’m just not an action/sci-fi/fantasy/hospital prime time drama kinda gal unless it involves a brutally handsome man like pre 1990′s Harrison Ford or GEORGE <3. But even then I'm just like MEH. As my sister said, "I'm sorry everything can't be a Wes Anderson film, Marissa."
And you know what?
I'm sorry too (kinda… I was just being difficult).
& Dudefriend knows I'm way MEH about these kinda flicks.
He hasn't even made me watch District 9 yet, which is way cool of him but at the same time, I mean, I'd watch them if he really wanted me to and I'd maybe even pretend to enjoy them or maybe I actually would enjoy them, who knows!
But I'm really totally NOT interested in watching Avatar.
Like AT ALL.

Is This Even The Movie? We Don't Ask Questions Here, We Just Google Shit.

So, I’ve come up with a plan not to see Avatar.
EVER.
Are you guys ready for this?!

OKAY,
So, your sig’-oth’ says,
“Hey, want to go see Avatar?”
& on the inside you’re like NO WAY JOSé!
But on the outside you say, “Well… I want to… but…”
Then you like, look away with this look that is sort of a mixed bag of all of Dakota Fanning’s characters.
So, your sig’ alert is going to be like, “But what?”
And you say,
GET THIS!
“But I have a history of depression.”

They are going to be all sorts of confused but don’t worry.
I AM HERE TO GUIDE YOU.

So, they ask, huh what? and you say,
“Well, you know, there are a lot of people reporting that the movie has made them depressed, you know, like, thinking about how there will never be as beautiful of place as Pandora and we can’t, like, live like the blue girl(?) in the movie in the forest and like, the world is totally under destruction and I just can’t handle it, ya know? I mean, just Ferngully put me on Paxil for like three years and I don’t know if I can take another three years of medication (UH HELLO THEY KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE) nor do I think I can live under that kind of mental stress. Do you know what happens when I’m under that kind of emotional pressure?”

And they’re probably so wtf’d out that they’re like,
“Well…no…”

So you say,
“WELL I’LL TELL YOU! I couldn’t sleep for weeks [hold back the tears]. I mean, sleep with anyone for weeks. You know, just as soon as someone started, you know, um [hold back more tears], stimulating me I would clench up in this fit of… God, I don’t know what… but I’d just say I had a headache and would go take a shower and weep for hours. Just weep for the world and weep in the hot water so no one would know I was weeping about the world… and weeping for myself… and Pandora.”

Then you start weeping.

And yeah, they’re going to think you’re absolutely insane for like fifteen minutes until they’re like, “Uh, yeah, no… er… sweetie, I don’t want to put you through that” and you guys put on the fourth season of It’s Always Sunny and start LOLing the night away per usual and have some epic boneage and then they’re like pretty convinced you’re still normal you just reeeeally shouldn’t be pissed off.

And if they question any of this,
be like
I READ IT ON CNN.
BITCH.

And you can’t argue with CNN.
Unless you’re the BBC.
Which, let’s just be real & go out on a limb
& say you are not the BBC.
You’re a twenty something with a penchant for PBR and Woody Allen and obviously smarter than 65% of the country but you are not,
I REPEAT
YOU ARE NOT
THE BBC.

Sidenote:

I think living in BBC heaven could be like, pretty rad.
Just a thought followed by some shrugs.