Wednesday, March 10, 2010

18 Dillion Wonderful Things

Whatever happened to Freddie Prinz (or however you spell it) Jr? I don't know who's choosing what to play over at Movie Extra, but I've seen THREE old-school-teen-romance-films starring FPJ in the last fortnight alone.

Today was She's All That. Oh, my. There are 18 dillion wonderful things about that movie. Here are the first 3:
  • Paul Walker
  • Sherminator having to eat his own pubes
  • The chick that plays Taylor Vaughan was totally in Prison Break

But seriously. What happened to Freddie Prinz (or however you spell it) Jr? Well, I'll tell you what happened: he took a job as Dr Harry Cooper's body double.

That joke was too easy, right? Oh look, he wears one of those hats that Dr Harry wears! It's hilarious!
Yeah, I suck. Whatever.
If you are anything like the kids I babysit, you may have noticed me looking particularly old and rickety as of late. Well, there is a reason - I turned 20 today. Also, that old bitch from The Skeleton Key totally put a spell on me and stole my youth.
Okay, so the Skeleton Key thing is a lie, but I did turn 20. Like with She's All That, there are 18 dillion wonderful things about turning 20. Here is the first one:

The others currently escape me.
Anyway, now that I'm officially old, I've been thinking alot about how I would like to die. Is that terribly morbid? You would think so, but every death-scenario I've come up with so far has been nothing short of hilarious. For example, getting hit by a blimp. That would be hilarious. I mean come on - where are you standing that you could get hit by a blimp? On top of a mountain? And even if you were, surely you'd see the blimp coming? They move at like 2 metres a year.
So I don't want to die by getting hit by a blimp. Because then I would be an idiot.
I don't want to choke either, because I have this weird fear of it. I choked on everything when I was a kid - lollies, spaghetti, steak, brocolli, melon, rice, milk, water, air, my own tongue. I had a very small oesophagus.
Conclusion: I don't know. I'd probably like to go in my sleep, or being smothered by Wentworth Miller's pecs. Because at least then I could say I died doing what I loved - sleeping, or being smothered by Wentworth Miller's pecs.

Happy Birthday, me!

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