Go Shorty, it's Yer Birfday
Don't call me Shorty. (Or Shirley, for that matter...)
After a perfectly heinous day at work, I came home to find out that:
Nooze was at her friend's house for the night. And Chachi was taking me on a date. He took me to The Crackhouse for dinner, and we went to see You, Me and Dupree. I'm not usually much of a chick movie kind of gal, but this movie was a great combo of sweet and utterly, hopelessly stupid. Granted, it was no Super Troopers, but then, ST didn't have Owen Wilson. Sigh.
Don't bug me about the week plot, the sappy dialogue, or the Oh-Dear-Lord-What-is-up-with-Michael-Douglas-He-looks-like-the-undead situation. It freaked me out, too. But it had Owen Wilson! I don't recommend this for kids. Or teens. Or people that can't abandon reality for a few hours. All in all, it was a fun night. And a great escape from my VERY frustrating day.
posted by rennratt at 4:39 AM
5 Comments:
I've been wanting to see that. My sis recommended it too, so it's getting added to the Must See list.
WAS it your birfday?
Yep, twas!
Damn! Happy belated birthday! There's actually a restaurant called the Crackhouse? That must be a source of major confusion! (Where ya been? Hangin' out at the crackhouse. Oh, OK.)
Rick - click the link! It's Chic Fil A! I call it 'The Crackhouse' because ALL of the food there is delicious. It must be laced with SOMETHING.
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