I went to see the new Harry Potter earlier tonight. I don't know... maybe after yesterday everything seems disappointing. The movie wasn't in and of itself a disappointment since I didn't expect much (curiously enough, I've had alot of other things to fill my mind with), but the result... the film just didn't stir up much emotions in me. Luna Lovegood was the only one interesting (I realised I sometimes behave *exactly* like her), especially since they had cut Alan Rickman and Snape to the minimum. Well, as a consolation I know for a fact they can't do that with the sixth movie, (warning - spoilers) after all Snape is the half-blood Prince (spoilers end here). I think the movie was good, some of the filmographic solutions very neat (such as using the Daily Prophet as means of sewing together small yet relevant details) but at the end of the day it didn't make my heart leap.
I left my bike in front of the movie theatre perfectly aware that amidst all the Saturday night fever some yahoo might steal it. As I came out of the theatre I was half-ecpecting Argo (I named it after Xena's horse) to be gone. It was there, to be sure, but the front tyre was entirely empty. Now I have to get it fixed. I have all the required theoretical knowledge to change the inner tyre myself but unfortunately it is the outer part of the tyre that is broken: the hole in it is visible to the eye. Well, doesn't really matter, I don't have all the equipment to fix it. Maybe I could inherit my father's toolbox; I have to ask my mother tomorrow (or, technically, today), they might have emptied the house and given it to someone else. Anyway, I need to go to some bike place to get it fixed on Monday, which means that I have to walk to work and back for several days: an hour per side. Lovely. Hopefully there is no heat wave about to strike the coast, or a thunder storm for that matter.
Damn it. What is it about braking bottles on the street? Does it inflict one's manhood in a way I cannot understand? Why men have to compensate their lack of self-confidence with destruction? Why? Talking about a Y chromosome.
Yours truly,
The half-blood (potentional) psychopath
