Last night I saw Willard with the most ghetto crowd I had ever witnessed. Screaming, ghetto comments, remarks about Crispin Glover's ugliness (which is blasphemy, few sexier men exist in the free world). It was a demented movie, and I think the highlight was the end, where Crispin Glover (my lover) sang "Ben", made 'popular' by Michael Jackson.
I got very excited before the movie even began because of one of the coming attractions. It was a book I had read about twenty million times that they are making into a movie. Stefan couldn't understand what I was so excited about, and I scolded him for not being an avid reader. He then accompanied me back to my house to see my clean rheum and to read the book.
It took five hours, but we read the book. I also loaned him Catcher In The Rye, as he needed some 'new material'. He'd just finished Girl, Interrupted, and I only loaned it to him about six months ago. We ate licorice and sour Jelly Bellies and I drank apple juice. Every time I read that book I want to cry.
I love that book. My favourite part is the ending verse:
If only, if only the moon speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun and all that's gone by.
Be strong, my weary wolf, turn around boldly
Fly high, my baby bird,
My angel, my only.
Excuse me while I break into a hysterical fit of sobs and then berate myself for being such a pussy and letting a childrens' book affect me in this way.
You guys *know* you cried after reading The Giving Tree, you're not so tough!