Anyway. I'm hoping that I don't get decapitated on the way in from the airport. Or worse. What would be worse than decapitation? Well, have you ever seen the movie Personal Best where Mariel Hemingway goes to Mexico for a track meet, and then she drinks the water or eats a salad or something and gets food poisoning and she can't run the race, and somehow the whole thing leads to lesbian sex? That would be worse than decaptiation, for me. Not that I have a problem with lesbian sex. I just wouldn't want to do it after a nasty bout of food poisoning.
Personal Best was not one of the movies I watched. Instead, I watched:
Midnight in Paris. Owen Wilson does the best Woody Allen impression ever. Better even than John Cusack did in Bullets over Broadway. Woody Allen's films are best when he's actually got something to say. Even if his point's not particularly necessary or relevant, he needs some sort of clunky objective, and this movie had that. I liked it quite a lot, actually.
Bridesmaids. Hilarious. Just. Hilarious. Hopefully you knew that already.
Bad Teacher. Not terrific, but not horrible. Cameron Diaz is the Meg Ryan of the New Millenium. You heard it here, first, people.
The Hangover, Part II. Pales miserably in comparison to the first. The one good thing is that you get to look at Bradley Cooper for an hour or so. Otherwise, I was unimpressed.
Okay. That's about it, for now. Wish me luck in Mexico. OH! And if you've been and you know what I should try to do, in case I'm brave enough to leave the hotel, leave a comment or somethin', okay?
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