My wave of jacked up sleeping has returned unfortunately but it has allowed me to watch some craptastic movies the last few days. Last night I was privy to the whole monstrosity that is Blessed and Cursed. The movie is about a young man who finds himself needing to get right with the Lord and how his "music ministry" is empowering and ultimately almost derailed by a jealous "bishop" who has become slightly corrupted by the money flowing into the church. Really it could have been decent but the acting was bad, granted most of the people in the movie are gospel singers not actors, and there were 50-11 cutaways of the main character randomly walking for no apparent reason. And the culmination of said film is him singing a random song he wrote in his father's church that his dead mother was able to pay on without anyone in the family knowing about. BUT the kicker with the song is it sounds more than vaguely like Purple Rain but of course with a gospel spin. I thought it was just sleep deprivation but when I googled the song and Purple Rain yeah apparently I wasn't the only one that caught it and were going really dude. Oh and somehow he signed a record deal and went on tour and made lots of money also with lots of cutaways and concert reactions that look more like a hip hop show than what I think of when I think of a gospel concert.
Tonight I watched Wild Things: Foursome and I'm currently watching Basic Instinct 2. The best thing about Wild Things is that it ended. Plot holes, stupid connections and all of the main characters are dead at the end of the movie. Basic Instinct 2 I really wanted to like but the relationship between Catherine and the shrink is so over the top and so just fucking ridiculous it makes me sad they did this to that very intriguing character with the ice pick. Ah well, it will be over with soon too I'm sure.
But that's not what I was thinking about when I opened this up. It's been raining after a brief kick up of wind and thunder. It made me remember how much fun I used to think it would be to be out under the storm, pinned to the hood of the car and getting my brains fucked out. How wet I used to get every time I would wake up in the middle of the night because of a thunderclap and find it to be pouring down hard. How much I used to daydream about my soldier doing all manner of unspeakable things to me upon his return out in a storm. Or how I used to wish we were out in the country so GN and I could get muddy in the backyard without anyone nearby hearing us. And then all at once it's quiet again and the moment has passed.