Look ma! Its a Tail With No Body

…and similarly, a flick with no plot.

Okay fine, I digress. It had a plot. Hell, the movie’s title is the bloody synopsis…Its all down to me. I am naive. I actually believed there’s more to the movie than just Snakes On A Plane.

I didn’t even get round to watching it till its end coz I figured I got the gist of it…

**SPOILER ALERT**
There’s a plane…and there are snakes on it!
**END SPOILER**
The director was on a role…
look at that its a snake descending on a weed smoking couple..On A Plane
Hey, that sleeping fat lady (not to be confused with the Singing Fat Lady) has got a snake going up her dress…on a plane…
Hey, that horny guy is peeing on a snake..on a plane…
There’s a trend being followed here, it involves SNAKES…ON A bloody PLANE!!
I would have loved to see some twists in this movie. The absence of the twist (yeah,sure the snakes did twist and turn, very funny Mr. Producer man!) doesn’t mean I can actually go to the box office with my mouth foaming (with insults) and ask for a refund.
It’s a lost cause!
Me: I mmmwant mmmwy money…
Box Office Attendant: sir, please address me with less foam….
Me: Oh, my bad…hey, your title when abbreviated spells BOA…that’s a twist…
BOA: so are you appeased?
Me: er, no…
BOA: what did you expect? The title clearly states that there are Snakes On A Plane…would you have preferred Snakes On A Train? Or Snakes On A Bun?
Me: Your sarcasm is almost intriguing. You’ve won me over!
BOA: I’m glad, so are you going back to watch the movie?
Me: “Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherf***ing snakes on this motherf***ing plane!
Truth be told I’d have settled for something, anything…like these deleted scenes;
*Camera pans over some guy’s head…he is hunched over a snake…he looks up with a sort of scowl..he analyses the snake…
Samuel L “Badass” Jackson:
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?
As yet Unknown Dude: This snake..its like the one on my tattoo…if we dissect it through here, he will be able to testify…as per who I am…call me Scowlfilled..man, did I choose the wrong plane to skip the country after my PRISON BREAK. *UGH* It bit me… Its starting to look like there are Snakes On This Plane…
( I had to add that giveaway. the last time I posted some obscure reference only Dante got it)
*Out of nowhere…” Stop that speech…stop it now!” I’m Jack Boa, well not really, but the guy writing this is bent on throwing in some awful puns so bear with me…
Samuel L: How long does this go on…
Jack Boa: In my experience, it never quite goes beyond 24 hours
SamueL L: THAT’S TOO LONG! PEOPLE ARE DYING! Is there a Doctor in the House…
Gregory House: Yes, but I’m too busy studying Grey’s Anatomy to be drawn into ER…
There’s a loud bang and the plane splits, no, cracks…and then is ripped open…No sign of Superman, he is probably tryin on some new tights…
Some passengers crash on an Island where they are going to be lost but, in good time we discover that they are some of the 4400!
And we know what that means…loads of powers, no snakes in sight and see who makes it to see if the bloody movie has a Last Stand.
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So I went gymin,right….

It was a simple plan. Go to the gym, work out, come home and black out…It backfired….

***Go to the gym***

I figured I didn’t have to dress to impress, I mean, its the bloody gym. Why on earth should I have to. Plus I’m a guy. We really don’t care…Most importantly, I stay in some place called KABALAGALA. Does that sound like the kind of place that inspires someone to dress to the nines? No? Didn’t think so. Its so bad, even the sluts can’t be bothered to look good. They still get customers so I guess no one really cares about impressions in this joint.
I did sandals and Jeans. In my haste…no,I’d be lying. I didn’t carry a tracksuit coz somehow I figured I could work out in Jeans…
****Work Out****
This is when it went wrong. I paid up to the lady at the counter/ reception thingy and endured her futile attempts at pronouncing the word discounts; “everytime you want disacounts”
She said the instructor would be with us shortly.We waited for a while before thinkin to ourselves, screw it. This dude is not coming. And so we began to use the machines as we pleased. It was all going smoothly until this finally turned up. I’ll call him Tha Fruitty-nator. Kinda like the Terminator, but fruity…
“Who told you to use these machines? Who,who…who?” He spat the words out like they were that meal I had that night…
I politely told him that I tried to wait for him to turn up, but patient though I may be, asking me to wait till next Tuesday for his attention was a stretch…
“Tuesday? What’s happening on Tuesday? and what stretchmarks… Okay, now get on that machine”
Dude…I’m already on it…
” I didn’t ask you, did I? Now get off that machine and come here…”
So I followed his instructions, coz that’s what happens in the gym. You follow a set of instructions with the belief that you will either lose weight or bulk up…or derive some bizarre sexual satisfaction (it was put forward by some Psych. Lecturer back at the university…)
“Okay, now get on that machine!” He barked.
So back I went. And expressed some concern over his order to give him TWENTY…twenty what the last time someone asked for twenty, it was this chic at Al Zawadi and even then I played dumb.
“Twenty minutes!”
Yeah, sure, making me wait for close to two hours wasn’t enough…
We kept on with this charade, with him barking at me asking for twenty this and twenty that until six O’clock…then he stepped out oh so daintily out of his itty-bitty closet…It was time for some aerobics…and he was in the zone…yeah I know….you don’t just get in the zone, the zone finds you. Details….
I don’t know about you, but there’s no way I’m going to feel amped listening to a sped up East African song…Oh listen to that…its that jam from years past, but why does it sound different? Why is the artiste rushing so that it sounds like, “Ninannokinikiskiahiimuziki…” I mean, what the hell?
If you are going to get people all psyched, play that I LIKE TO Move it song from Madagascar. Hey, I think I’ll play that now. That’s a jam right there…is it in English? I think they just said Dem like to move it..
So anywho, the instructor gets really psyched and is screaming out, “1…2…3…3…2…3…two more….one…2…1 more” before you know it, you’ve done like two hundred and thrity one bits of exercise that see you move back and forth between some board and pulling off some classic 70’s dance moves.
This has gone on for quite a bit, and now I must..move it.