That said, without warning, Donna and I do get The Call of the Drive-in. The primal urge to experience outdoor motion pictures overwhelms our artistic sensibilities and we simply must go sit under the stars, watch 24 frames per second, and meet some new bugs.
It happened again, one recent afternoon, so I went online to peruse the offerings at the 10 drive-in theatre screens we visit within 100 miles of our yearning to be flicked.
With my immense affinity for wordplay, I cannot begin to tell you how acutely difficult it was for me to not round-trip the 181 miles to attend "Vampires Suck" and "Dinner for Schmucks."
The bragging rights alone would have made me proud!
Alas, the dwindling time element before darkness precluded the excursion and its Snickers®ed snickers. We were forced to choose fare closer to home.
The least objectionable program began with "Salt."
Yes. We did have the popcorn, but I was speaking about "Salt," the film.
Sorry. It's that wordplay thang. I can't help myself, Sugar Pie Honey Bunch.
"Salt" stars Angelina Jolie as Jason Bourne, but without those pesky licensing fees.
We were happy with the show. Typical contemporary secret agent stuff, although there are sufficient twists to surprise. It is remarkable how many creeps you can kill by pummeling them with an array of linty, beer-fizzed Brad Pitt soul patches.
I can't say we enjoyed the second feature, "The Expendables." We slept through much of it -- and that's saying a lot because this one has more firepower than World War II in the Pacific or a Tyra Banks hissy.
Sylvester Stallone and a passel of action hulks "blowed things up real good," as critics Big Jim McBob and Billy Sol Hurok deduced in their review. "REAL good!"
Jason Statham, Mickey Rourke, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Steve Austin, Bruce Willis, and Arnold Schwarzenegger join the mayhem with weapon of mass destruction: Marjorie Main, wielding her frying pan.
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