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wah-WAH-wah
Tonight, we watched "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly". It is the second time he has had a classic Western as movie night; after what we did to this movie and The Searchers I'm beginning to fear he'll stop letting us see them. :D
"The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" is one of those stories (like Sandman) where a character's label is the opposite of what they do. Tuco (the Ugly) is the only remotely likeable character in the film. Angeleyes (the Bad) is the only character with even an inkling of a sense of honor. And Blondie (the Good) is a total douche.
He's not even an *interesting* douche, like John Wayne was: he's just a douche.
Although there totally needs to be (and I swear to God, for once I wasn't the one who thought of this. It wasn't even one of the slash-getting crowd; it was one of the manly men with us, but there still totally needs to be) Blondie/Tuco breathplay porn. Please tell me this exists, so I don't have to invent it!
Mind you, in terms of craft, it's a great movie, and clearly beloved by the folks who did PotC, so I'm glad it exists. A modern woman just eventually reaches the state of consciousness where she has to start cracking snark and laughing. And counting the number of men who have had their lips around Clint Eastwood's cigar.
(seriously. The shot where Blondie and Tuco are having yet another staring contest, and then suddenly it cuts to close-ups of them running their hands slowly along their inner thighs? I'm sure it had some kind of manly man meaning, but hard as I tried I couldn't not make little slashy sporfle noises. Continuously, for about five minutes.)
Clint Eastwood cuddled a kitten though. ^_
"The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" is one of those stories (like Sandman) where a character's label is the opposite of what they do. Tuco (the Ugly) is the only remotely likeable character in the film. Angeleyes (the Bad) is the only character with even an inkling of a sense of honor. And Blondie (the Good) is a total douche.
He's not even an *interesting* douche, like John Wayne was: he's just a douche.
Although there totally needs to be (and I swear to God, for once I wasn't the one who thought of this. It wasn't even one of the slash-getting crowd; it was one of the manly men with us, but there still totally needs to be) Blondie/Tuco breathplay porn. Please tell me this exists, so I don't have to invent it!
Mind you, in terms of craft, it's a great movie, and clearly beloved by the folks who did PotC, so I'm glad it exists. A modern woman just eventually reaches the state of consciousness where she has to start cracking snark and laughing. And counting the number of men who have had their lips around Clint Eastwood's cigar.
(seriously. The shot where Blondie and Tuco are having yet another staring contest, and then suddenly it cuts to close-ups of them running their hands slowly along their inner thighs? I'm sure it had some kind of manly man meaning, but hard as I tried I couldn't not make little slashy sporfle noises. Continuously, for about five minutes.)
Clint Eastwood cuddled a kitten though. ^_
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I named one of my first cats Angel-eyes because I got her after seeing this movie for the first time.
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(I swear, I was totally going to post that as the last line of this entry, but decided it would be too random, because not everyone sees Clint Eastwood and immediately starts thinking about how DAVID HEWLETT is awesomer.)
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