Watched ‘Kick Ass’ last night with the Bman who has never seen it before. I think he agrees with me and my friend, the Gene Genie, that our youngest daughter should never be allowed to accidentally see this movie or even hear of its existence.
She thought she was Kung Fu Panda for 6 months after first seeing that. She used to try and ‘Matilda’ her form teacher in Reception class when things didn’t go her way! She still sometimes acts like King Julian from ‘Madagascar’ and Lord knows, when she was (inappropriately) allowed to watch ‘Sucker Punch’ a couple of years ago, she thought she was Baby Doll for a fortnight.
The carnage, my friends, would be something to behold once that purple wig & eyemask were on!
Anyone who knows my kid well enough to know that this is true say, “Hell Yeah! Keep her away from that movie!”
I love her. She’s awesome (but also slightly terrifying). I don’t know where she gets it from.
Anyway, rather than go to sleep then like the Bman, what I did was stay awake watching ‘Ghost Adventures’ – which is like ‘Most Haunted’ but in the big old U. S of A Man! Where they’re like so much more gung-ho than Derek Acorah and Yvette and they have better equipment. Scarier equipment, like that EVP shit that plays back gobbledygook white noise that they then tell you says stuff like; “Satan is good, Satan is our pal. Kill everyone, Especially YOU!” It doesn’t say any such thing. But now you think that it does and they keep replaying it over and over just to really mess with your overtired mind.
So even though I watched a bit of a stand up comedy gig afterwards I still had a fitful nights sleep suffering from a chronic attack of overactive imagination.
I could hear a tiny breath echoing the massive man-breathing of the Bman. I knew it was the damn cat asleep in the corner.
Or was it?
Could it have been a tiny gremlin dude like that one in Stephen King’s ‘Cat’s Eye’‘ who was going to steal my soul through my mouth as I slept and then the cat would save me by fighting the little man to the death, only to then climb up on my chest and suck out my soul and last living breath like it did to a young Drew Barrymore in the movie.
(It wouldn’t be the first time the cats had tried to kill me.)
I even had to cuddle up to the Bman for comfort.
No more late night cheese platters for you lady !
So to end on a less frightening note for you all than killer cats and wives being forced to cooch up to their snoring hubbies for protection from non-existent soul stealing bedroom goblins…. I entered the 21st century today and bought a DAB radio for my kitchen.
I’ll be getting myself one of those new fangled Spinning Jennys next!