Woody Allen in the Dark

I finally got around to seeing Toy Story 3 the other day, in the morning on a school day. There were eight people in the cinema in total - four adults and four kids (including myself). We were nearly outnumbered by those wily Pixar loving grown ups. The film was good but the 3D blew. I would have much rather watched it in the regular and accepted fashion. For what I got out of the 3D, it was taken away by the realisation that I looked like Woody Allen in a dark room for over ninety minutes. What is it with the current obsession with filming everything in 3D anyways? Come on, I'm not three years old, just show me the goddamn movie.
I didn't have any snacks durning the film because my pipework needed clearing and I wasn't daring enough to risk any premature urges to unclog said pipework as the only option was to partake in a little public convenience. Even though I hardly find it a convenient place to do anything, and especially when you have to cope with the lack of oxygen going to your brain during the whole experience as you've got your breath held in an effort to avoid the biological warfare that haunts those places. maybe the Ladies was better. I doubt it. S.H.

The Schizophrenic Shopper

So, as it was, whilst attempting to procure a little enlightenment via Keats in a supermarket parking lot, that I stumbled across the Schizophrenic Shopper. A middle aged lady of not abhorrent appearance, she talked away at regular pitch and volume, completely alone but for her apparent friends the grocery items. I couldn't tell if she was talking to herself or to the produce to be honest, but she did bust out phrases like "Oh, aren't you a large packet of toilet rolls," "you can't go there, you're not meant to go there" and my personal favourite "why do you do this to me?" Do what? Is she angry at the bananas for being a dollar a pound? It's not the air freshener's fault that it was buy one get one free.
I continued to get a few more minutes of this blissful observation until the nice lady got into her nice car and in her white Toyota straightjacket she drove away. S.H.

This Liquid Horizon

It occurs to me that under this liquid horizon that we so readily gulp down like it is the flowing juices of the Gods of the Populars that have so freely been crowned the Kings and Queens of a castle that never belonged to any of us in the traditional sense in the first place, that we not only risk leaving the sky dry for our children, but for the rest of anything as beautiful as they that could be left to be on this great place we call home. S.H.