Well, now that we’ve been without cable for quite some time, things have gotten weird.
Today’s weird movie was supposed to be “Dead Snow.” A Norwegian horror film about Nazi zombies. Well, it wasn’t any more weird than you would expect a Norwegian horror film about Nazi zombies to be. In fact, now that I’ve re-read that sentence, you might be underwhelmed about the amount of weirdness because of the elements of Norwegians, Germans, zombies and Nazi’s (they’re separate from Germans…yes they are). If you like to watch movies with subtitles, this is the movie for you. There’s a lot of dialogue before everyone gets mutilated by zombies and Norwegian, or whatever language it is, doesn’t sound a shit bit like English except for maybe like ten words which are identical. Funny how languages are like that. What I couldn’t help but notice was that almost every movie reference within the movie was to American made movies. I was like, “Really? Don’t the Norwegians have any great movies that they would reference, I mean other than Nazi zombie movies?” Well…I guess not. In any case there’s lots of the usual ripping of flesh and limbs but this happens in the snow with zombies who are Nazi’s and nobody speaks English, so if that’s for you, you should watch it. I gave it 3 stars because 2 stars means “I didn’t like it” which isn’t entirely true. 3 stars means “I like it” which also isn’t entirely true but since they don’t have a rating for “This is a tolerable way to waste my time as background while I do other things” I gave it three stars. Now that I think about it maybe 2 stars would have been fair because I had to look up to read every time somebody said something and that may have been more effort than the film deserved. Also, somebody has sex in an outhouse.
Anyway, that wasn’t even the weird movie. Next time I’ll review Rubber, a movie about a psychokinetic killer tire.
This. This is what I’m combating. You know what the worst part is? I don’t even have it as bad as some people. My wife works in a dietary hell. People around her are constantly eating candy, getting greasy burgers or pizza for lunch, or even bringing in frozen custard! This, however is not about her. This is about my attempt to stick to my new plan. I hate to call it a diet because of the connotations. This is going to be the new way that I eat. Soon, it will become a habit and eating healthy will be normal instead of the exception. I’ve decided to focus on eating (since I do it all the time anyway) instead of exercise (which I can hardly seem to get myself to do at all). Pretty clever when I put it like that, huh? I will never be able to burn as many calories exercising as I’m capable of consuming so I’m renewing my focus on the kitchen.
Specifically I’m focused on portion size. See, I already like to eat vegetables and fruit. I don’t mind healthier cuts of meat and I think I’m finally becoming comfortable with cooking and eating fish. Sushi really helped with that (this is fish?!). I’m not saying that I don’t eat donuts, ice cream, cookies, etc. on occasion or even a giant greasy cheeseburger but that’s not a daily occurrence for me. Well…okay, so maybe it was nearly daily, not the burger, but something. I don’t think that was my main pitfall though. I think it’s that when I eat something as innocuous as a salad I eat a massive fucking salad. Even with a reasonable dose of dressing that is a ton of calories…from a salad!!! So I’ve adopted a meal plan with a lot of options but each meal is pretty specific about the portion sizes. So guess what ISN’T part of the meal plan.
That WAS however sitting in the break room. It was sitting in the break room for hours like some kind of untouchable holy grail of donut-dom. Every time I went in there for a coffee or a water it was staring at me, taunting me. I grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge…I stared at the donut, I studied it…I began to visualize myself in front of an altar, carrying a bag of sand and wearing a whip and fedora. I decided to finish my yogurt instead of dodging a volley of poisonous darts and a boulder.
Just as a I walked out of the break room I could swear I saw a single tear roll down that peep’s cheek.