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Big Girls Don't Cry

I had every intention of taking a nap this afternoon, but it never happened. I did get some good work in on a baby blanket, finished off a Felicity DVD and prepared it for its safe return to Netflix, and actually cooked myself an actual meal. Seriously! It had like three food groups in it.

Mopsa came to pick me up at 10 and we made a stop at Boom! for a little pre-Dirty Dancing cocktail with the gay men of America. The men at Boom! are ridiculous. Ridiculous. I just want to rub up against them accidentally over and over again. You've never seen so many tight little t-shirts in your life. I have this whole evolutionary theory about how so many beautiful men are gay and as a result we are genetically weeding out good looking men. It's groundbreaking, I know.

The other thing that's fun about Boom! are the flatscreen TVs that play 100% gay music videos 100% of the time. This is the only bar in town where I can request Geri Halliwell's "It's Raining Men" without fear of harassment. Tonight's favorite was a Ricky Martin number where he's dancing around like he's in West Side Story or something.

We downed our drinks rather quickly as we needed to get back to Uptown in time for the midnight show. For some reason, I thought that the idea of Dirty Dancing on the big screen would have lines around the block! I was completely wrong. We got our popcorn and Twizzlers and settled in for some good old fashioned hip-grinding, dry-humping, virginity-losing fun. Shockingly, Mopsa had never seen Dirty Dancing all the way through.

I really wanted to take a photo of the movie screen, but my Clie crapped out and I wasn't able to reset it. And oh, how I wish it would have been working when the sound got fucked up. Right at the part when Johnny comes in to say the line that we all paid eight bucks to see, "Nobody puts Baby in the corner," the sound track somehow reverts back to 20 minutes earlier in the film. So the whole final scene - the money shot - of Dirty Dancing is totally fucked up. The audience starts spontaneously singing, "I've had the time of my life..." since we aren't getting it from the speakers. In fact, what is coming out of the speakers is an earlier fight scene, so people are dancing onscreen and there's punching noises coming out of the speakers.

Due to technical difficulties, the following images are re-enactments.
This is how I looked when the sound first went out.
This is how I looked when I realized it wasn't coming back.

Unfulfilled, Mops and I marched out to the lobby where we were informed that there was nothing they could do, but gave us free passes (they claimed all the money had gone to the bank already). It all seemed fine and good at the time, but now that I read the fine print I see that this thing is only good Sunday-Thursday and "some restrictions apply." Grrr. They charged $8 for a ticket to a movie I could rent and it's screwed up and this is what I get?

Bah! Off to bed. I'm so tired there's a danger that I'll sleep straight through until Monday.

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Jack!

Posted February 16, 2003 2:38 AM | On This Day: 2004



you can sleep when you're dead....

just kidding... the photos are most adorable....

yes yes, good shots. now about the fact that you paid $8...

Hey--You got MEEEEEEEE!


I am so worth that 8 bucks!

Speaking of the best dudes being gay, the same often applies to broads. In the gay magazine Out, there's a picture of Darryl Hannah cuddling model Jenny Shimizu. Shimizu declares that she likes "girls who wear lipstick at night." Hannah is wearing lipstick. Woah!

Shimizu previously was involved with Angelina Jolie. Jolie said of the affair, "I probably would have married Jenny if I hadn't married Jonny." (Jonny Lee Miller was Jolie's first husband.)

Rocking good family fun.

I'm probably the only person in America that saw Dirty Dancing because I had a crush on Jerry Orbach.