As I type this, a crime is being committed.
What type of crime you ask?
Murder? Arson? Somebody buying a Lionel Ritchie album for their daughter?
It's much worse than that.
It turns out that someone is being tortured.
That someone is me.
Right now, four of my "Friends" are in a theater in Victoria watching an advance screening of Superman Returns.
Where am I? Three hours away.
Where's the torture in that, you say?
As if just being there wasn't enough, they phoned me from the theatre.
Not during the movie - they may be assholes, but they aren't retarded. They phoned me to tell me they were just waiting for it to start. So I get to sit here and steam while they get to enjoy what could be the best movie of the summer.
What can I do? Nothing.
Nothing but wait and plot.
Ricardo Montalban as Khan said it best: "Reevenngee eeess a deesshh beesst seeerved coooold."
I hope their popcorn tastes like shit.
(God I'm such a Geek.)