We have decided to forgo paying a cable bill and have instead invested in NetFlix. And are taking full advantage of its services. (An aside, having evenings without plans is awesome).
Last week Transformers 2 arrived and I agreed to partake. Heck, this cool girl played with (and broke–sorry Chris) her share of Autobots back in the day. I was digg’n it, despite the overly sexy girlfriend and bizarre college scenes. But then, somewhere around 90 minutes into the movie (just as I thought it was ending) the protagonists were magically transported to Sahara Desert and continued on fighting…for another hour. My favorite part was when the leader of the Decepticons (read: bad robots) finally yelled “Begin our assault!”
Wait. What have the last 120 minutes been about? I thought the assault had already begun…
It was about this point I went to bed. And, admittedly, in a bit of a gruff. I couldn’t believe we’d wasted all night with that movie.
When it was finally over Joe went to the kitchen to began the dishes. I was still a bit peeved. But as the water ran and he stood over the sink I could hear him, in a deep rolling voice, telling the platters and bowls that he was Optimus Prime and was going to save the world.