I Love You Phillip Morris

Wake at 1pm when noise of scuffle in hallway outside front door begins. Look up and see through room doorway, down hall, through front door window, mirage of flatmate Tom trying to open door. Check time on alarm clock and decide too late in day to be found in bed. Swing door closed and get up.

As self initiates totally-disilimar-to-gruelling-morning-work-out-routine-in-American-Psycho routine, self reflects on previous three days. Last film self watched was delightful I Love You Phillip Morris on Thursday. Self spent all of (thurs)day playing football entertainment-console game with flatmate Tom and watching Jim Carrey/Ewan McGregor film (without flatmate Tom).

Impressed by film from outset, especially shot of Jim Carrey driving car getting hit by other car without cutaway. Film possessive of many homosexual stereotypes, but in such way that homosexual stereotypes inoffensive and edging more towards types from one speaker rather than in stereo.

Film also possessive of many twists and turns that self enjoyed to extent of not wanting to spoil film for three blog readers who may potentially want to enjoy plot twists of own accord in future. However, self, although not fan of filmic mathematics, willing to offer equation to describe film. Equation, seriously, accurate. Equation thus: Catch Me If You Can + The (Gay) Shawshank Redemption = I Love You Phillip Morris.


Self feels blog required to update McGregor accent tracker: McGregor American accent worse than The Men Who Stare at Goats but better than Deception. Almost all things in life better than Deception. On unrelated note, almost all things in life better than deception.

Self pleased to see Jim Carrey back in courtroom. Self pleased more at opportunity to assess Carrey acting ability in neutral Carrey-courtroom environment. Carrey, of course, Carrey. But Carrey also slightly not Carrey. Result = Carrey impressive x film (in general) also impressive + not terrible McGregor accent - appearance from Orange guy = self likes-to-extent-of-almost-loving I Love You Phillip Morris.

Number of followers of blog + number of times self thinks about blog per day = embarrassing state of dependence of (and accordance to) blog. Summation of situation + business at work = reduction of updates of blog.

Numerous future blog updates evolve notwithstanding current state of blog standing: following enjoyable oglement (not a word) of Carrey caper-cum-drama self attends preview of play by self's former university's drama society's Edinburgh fringe play offering Waiting for Lefty written by American writer Clifford Odets and self enjoys play, so self attends after party, entailing self ending up drinking until 4am with non-flatmate previously-mentioned-in-blog Louise, non-flatmate bisexual Nick, and non-flatmate German Anke; self docks with Anke on filmic terms in regard to under appreciated Bruce Willis/Billy Bob Thornton/Cate Blanchett mild-adventure film Bandits, resulting in self arranging, in half-hearted manner, future date based around film. Further opportunity for blogging under more exciting circumstances occurs when self invited to press screening of new Catherine Zeta-Jones romance film The Rebound (not to be confused with Martin Lawrence film of same name about bouncing ball sport). Further further opportunity evinced when non-flatmate workmate Valentina expresses interest in viewing Toy Story 3.

Self deluged with cinematic requests + drinking - self control = laziness. Self provisionally arranges date with non-flatmate Anke for Monday evening and trip to cinema with workmate Valentina on Wednesday day.

Self pleased at distraction by multitude cultural eventualities because self not thinking, for change, about fonts. Self contentment continues until flatmate Johnny unveils new torture device:

Jealousy of T-shirt + lack of clean clothes x Johnny taking on Samuel-L-Jackson-in-Unthinkable-approach to co-habititation = high percentage possibility of knocking sleeping Johnny unconscious and premiering T-shirt Monday morning at The Rebound press screening.