We watched The Expendables a couple nights ago directed by Sylvester Stallone. We're on a bit of a movie kick because we just signed up for that blockbuster pass... thing, where they send the movies you request to your house and you keep them as long as you want!! Anyway, we're really excited about it and are going a bit movie crazy at the moment.
Now to the movie! SPOILER ALERT!!!
I heard a lot of bad reviews of this movie from friends before we watched it but how could I pass up a movie filled with action stars of my life!! I mean Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jet Li, and than you add in the wrestlers that my little brother and dad always loved like “Stone Cold” Steve Austen and Randy Couture, and than you add in a name that I have come to know and appreciate as an action figure like Jason Statham!!! Come on who could ignore that!!!
This movie is what it is, an action movie... a guy flick so to speak. It has some amazing action sequences, the guys are tough, the girls are pretty, there are lots of bullets and knives that fly, explosions, motorcycles, etc. The only action like thing that I really had to roll my eyes at was the jump that Stallone makes from the dock onto the plane that Jason Statham is flying away... it just didn't sit right with me. Now, if you are looking for back-story, character development, or even understanding of characters motives, this is NOT the movie for you!
I like at least a little back-story, it drove me a little crazy that I didn't know anything really about any of the characters. Like how long Statham and his girlfriend were dating, if they get back together after he kicks the other guys butt. Also why is Stallone so intent on helping Sandra, why does Li really need more money, who is the motorcycle riding tattoo guy, etc.
Anyway, like I said it was good for what it was but don't look for more. But really could we expect much more from a movie that was written and directed by Sylvester Stallone. Haha! Definitely a renter only!
RENTER
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And last night we watched Wall street: Money Never Sleeps directed by Oliver Stone. SPOILER ALERT!!!
I had seen the original Wall street (also directed by Oliver Stone) a couple months a go for the first time and I really liked it, so when I saw a sequel was coming out, especially a sequel that still included Michael Douglas!!! I had to see it.
And unfortunately I was disappointed, it just didn't have the same punch, the same tension of the first. It also seemed to be lost with the story line, you never really understand any character or story line other than Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) and it's hard to say if you understand him better just because you've dealt with the character before in the original or if it's just a better developed character. Either way Shia LaBeouf who I usually like, seemed wishy-washy and child-ish and wrong for the movie, I don't know... it may just be that he doesn't have a “Wall street face” but I didn't like him in this role.
All around I was disappointed in the movie, the twists were predictable, the story line weak, the acting not what I've come to expect, and just all around a let down, I'll be sticking with the original. This movie was not an owner by a long shot, it unfortunately doesn't even make the list of movies to rent for me, it's just a DUD.
DUD
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I had to put down Ray Bradbury just for a spell because I'm currently reading We'll Always Have Stockholm by, J.M. Jennings.
The reason this book had to be picked up and Bradbury put down is because this book is actually written by a friend of mine and this is his first book available to the masses. It is available on Amazon Kindle here's the link, http://www.amazon.com/Well-Always-Have-Stockholm-ebook/dp/B004XMOY8A/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1303541729&sr=8-3 . So far it's very good, unfortunately with all the movies, work and everything else I haven't gotten very far in it but I recommend everyone buy it on amazon and support a new author as well as read a very good because I have read a lot of this guy's stuff over the last couple years and he is a very good writer! Here's an excerpt of the book!
The black wrought-iron sign that arched over the entrance to the community read:
Green strode up to the left column, which was done in the same red brick as the rest of the wall. Jutting out from its interior was a small metal keypad. He put in a six-digit code, and the iron fence slowly slid back from its usual moorings. Slowly and silently, Jack noted. This was obviously a very nice place; the houses that lined the street before him were tall and stately, built with money and care. Nevertheless, he felt a kind of chill pass through him as he passed through the gate and into Thistle Creek. It might have been related to the smile he had seen on Green’s face, or it might not. Hell, he thought it might be related to the fact that he had just survived a plane crash in the stupidest way he could imagine.
And what about the plane crash, at that? He had heard the sounds of sirens; useful fire trucks and useless ambulances and ambiguous police cars, no doubt. But shouldn’t he call 911 just the same? Or at least, shouldn’t someone? Someone probably had.
“Did you call 911?” he asked Green. Green looked over at him, silent for the briefest of seconds, his respectively brown and hazel eyes glued to him as they walked.
“Yes, that was the first thing I did. Used my cell phone while I was headed out to see the crash.” The Southern accent seemed thicker now, and Jack wondered a little at that. He didn’t know that accents sometimes fade into the shadows like a supporting character in a play once the line has been delivered, and then surge forward when the time comes for the next one. “That’s when I saw you coming down the hill. I figured you were dead meat, but you pulled off quite a miracle.” He seemed to be dismissing the 911 call, but Jack pursued.
“So they’re sending people out to help?” he asked. Help might be a strong word. He thought maybe a better word would be preside, but didn’t say so. Green nodded.
“Yup. And I expect that they’ll want to talk to you at some point, but there’s really no hurry for that. They’ll have their hands full for quite a while just putting that fire out, and in the mean time, you need to be some place where you can let the shock jitters out safely. Come on, my house is just up the street here.”
The street, unsurprisingly, carried the name: THISTLE CREEK LANE. Jack walked next to Green, his legs feeling more and more rubbery with each step. He realized that it would be a good thing for him to sit down for a little while. He felt sort of cold, despite the warmth of the morning sun on his back and neck. This concerned him, as it meant that he might be going into shock. He didn’t like to think that might be possible – he was a tough guy, after all, right? But as he looked at the street stretched out in front of him, he thought it was at least plausible.
There were people approaching now. They came from up the street, pouring out of what looked like the biggest barn Jack had ever seen. He knew almost immediately that it wasn’t a barn, but it was built like one, except much, much bigger. They were closing in, he realized, to see the latest disturbance that had come to their sleepy little pseudo-village. One of them, an older man with a white mustache, called out as he approached.
“Reverend Green! Did you save someone from that crash?”
Reverend, Jack thought. That’s interesting.
Charles Green said nothing at first, but raised his left hand to the man, palm outward, as if to ward him off. Jack noticed that a strange scar had been carved into the Green’s palm. It was a kind of asterisk, and at the end of each of its points was a small circle. The old man didn’t slow down, but came right up to them. He then bent and placed a very reverent kiss on the open palm. Then he bowed for a long moment. When he rose, there was clear, unadulterated worship in his eyes.
The others followed suit, one by one. They came up in a line, each bending to kiss the strange scar on Green’s hand, each bowing for a long moment as if in contemplation of their choice of footwear. As this unfolded, Jack found that he was beginning to feel very, very afraid.
“What are they doing?” he asked, and found that he could muster no more than a horrified whisper. Green did not answer, but the old man did.
“We’re showing respect to Reverend Green,” he said simply. He gestured toward Green, and even his that seemed to be done with the severest of admiration. “Since he saved your life, I guess you’ll be wanting to show your respects too.” There was the barest trace of malice in the old man’s voice, one which could almost be called jealousy. Jack was, after all, an intruder to this little mini-community, and the attentions of one person were probably spread thinly as it was.
Jack turned to Green again. Green only smiled pleasantly, then raised his hand in front of Jack’s face. The thin white lines of the scar stood out in the morning sun.
“Welcome to our community, Jack. I think you’re going to have a wonderful time staying with us here.” The voice was cool, friendly, and resolute.
And Jack’s body – beaten and bruised and incapable of dealing with any but the simplest of functions – performed the only act of self-preservation it could imagine at that moment. It collapsed, and he fainted.
I found it on his blog, so if you like his book or the idea of his book or whatever, follow him too, here's the link to his blog, http://author-jmjennings.blogspot.com .
The black wrought-iron sign that arched over the entrance to the community read:
THISTLE CREEK
Green strode up to the left column, which was done in the same red brick as the rest of the wall. Jutting out from its interior was a small metal keypad. He put in a six-digit code, and the iron fence slowly slid back from its usual moorings. Slowly and silently, Jack noted. This was obviously a very nice place; the houses that lined the street before him were tall and stately, built with money and care. Nevertheless, he felt a kind of chill pass through him as he passed through the gate and into Thistle Creek. It might have been related to the smile he had seen on Green’s face, or it might not. Hell, he thought it might be related to the fact that he had just survived a plane crash in the stupidest way he could imagine.
And what about the plane crash, at that? He had heard the sounds of sirens; useful fire trucks and useless ambulances and ambiguous police cars, no doubt. But shouldn’t he call 911 just the same? Or at least, shouldn’t someone? Someone probably had.
“Did you call 911?” he asked Green. Green looked over at him, silent for the briefest of seconds, his respectively brown and hazel eyes glued to him as they walked.
“Yes, that was the first thing I did. Used my cell phone while I was headed out to see the crash.” The Southern accent seemed thicker now, and Jack wondered a little at that. He didn’t know that accents sometimes fade into the shadows like a supporting character in a play once the line has been delivered, and then surge forward when the time comes for the next one. “That’s when I saw you coming down the hill. I figured you were dead meat, but you pulled off quite a miracle.” He seemed to be dismissing the 911 call, but Jack pursued.
“So they’re sending people out to help?” he asked. Help might be a strong word. He thought maybe a better word would be preside, but didn’t say so. Green nodded.
“Yup. And I expect that they’ll want to talk to you at some point, but there’s really no hurry for that. They’ll have their hands full for quite a while just putting that fire out, and in the mean time, you need to be some place where you can let the shock jitters out safely. Come on, my house is just up the street here.”
The street, unsurprisingly, carried the name: THISTLE CREEK LANE. Jack walked next to Green, his legs feeling more and more rubbery with each step. He realized that it would be a good thing for him to sit down for a little while. He felt sort of cold, despite the warmth of the morning sun on his back and neck. This concerned him, as it meant that he might be going into shock. He didn’t like to think that might be possible – he was a tough guy, after all, right? But as he looked at the street stretched out in front of him, he thought it was at least plausible.
There were people approaching now. They came from up the street, pouring out of what looked like the biggest barn Jack had ever seen. He knew almost immediately that it wasn’t a barn, but it was built like one, except much, much bigger. They were closing in, he realized, to see the latest disturbance that had come to their sleepy little pseudo-village. One of them, an older man with a white mustache, called out as he approached.
“Reverend Green! Did you save someone from that crash?”
Reverend, Jack thought. That’s interesting.
Charles Green said nothing at first, but raised his left hand to the man, palm outward, as if to ward him off. Jack noticed that a strange scar had been carved into the Green’s palm. It was a kind of asterisk, and at the end of each of its points was a small circle. The old man didn’t slow down, but came right up to them. He then bent and placed a very reverent kiss on the open palm. Then he bowed for a long moment. When he rose, there was clear, unadulterated worship in his eyes.
The others followed suit, one by one. They came up in a line, each bending to kiss the strange scar on Green’s hand, each bowing for a long moment as if in contemplation of their choice of footwear. As this unfolded, Jack found that he was beginning to feel very, very afraid.
“What are they doing?” he asked, and found that he could muster no more than a horrified whisper. Green did not answer, but the old man did.
“We’re showing respect to Reverend Green,” he said simply. He gestured toward Green, and even his that seemed to be done with the severest of admiration. “Since he saved your life, I guess you’ll be wanting to show your respects too.” There was the barest trace of malice in the old man’s voice, one which could almost be called jealousy. Jack was, after all, an intruder to this little mini-community, and the attentions of one person were probably spread thinly as it was.
Jack turned to Green again. Green only smiled pleasantly, then raised his hand in front of Jack’s face. The thin white lines of the scar stood out in the morning sun.
“Welcome to our community, Jack. I think you’re going to have a wonderful time staying with us here.” The voice was cool, friendly, and resolute.
And Jack’s body – beaten and bruised and incapable of dealing with any but the simplest of functions – performed the only act of self-preservation it could imagine at that moment. It collapsed, and he fainted.
I found it on his blog, so if you like his book or the idea of his book or whatever, follow him too, here's the link to his blog, http://author-jmjennings.blogspot.com .
So until next time, enjoy life, and be fascinated by the little things!!! :D
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