Iron Man kicks Robin Hood's ass.

So. Over the weekend I went to see both Robin Hood and Iron Man 2. Hey, this is what you do when you can't sit on your couch and watch baseball because you aren't able to drink beer. Side note: baseball requires beer. Fact. But I digress... I saw both movies, and let me just say, Russell Crowe may look nice without his shirt on, it doesn't make up for the fact that he couldn't act his way on to a puppet show. He plays the same freaking character, in the same way in every single movie. I'm convinced that he just shows up to the set, reads lines he's phoned in from his hot tub in the Aussie outback. Now RDJ's Tony Stark? THAT'S A CHARACTER. That's ACTING. Maybe RDJ just has more life experiences to draw from. I guess years of self-abuse, jail time, waking up in random children's beds after a 3-day bender, this will happen. All I know, 10 minutes into Robin Hood, I'm looking at my phone to see when this mess will end. When the IM2 credits rolled, I wished there were 2 more hours of it.

Just another Wednesday night

I really needed a night out. My week has been hectic, and slightly emotional. So when my good friend JB threw out the invite for Cinco de Mayo shenanigans, I knew this was just what the doctor ordered. Nothing special, just some eats at Calamari's and then up to the Sunflower Club to listen to Rick McGee without his rockers. And without the sheet music to "Mexico" on 5/5 apparently. No amount of shouting would change the fact that he just didn't know the song. For some reason this doesn't stop me from shouting it out after, EVERY.SINGLE.SONG. Those who know me will not be surprised at all. We also discovered that the Beach Boy band member who hit on JD was not John Stamos, (sad face) but instead 68-year-old Bruce Johnston, who is very stingy with his wine. And then that last beer came and being 3 blocks from home deciding while drinking said beer, do I stay out with the JD and JT knowing things were surely going to get out of hand? Or do I honor the pact that JB and I made to get each other home at a decent hour, not smashed, and with food in our bellies. Pact intact.