He Completes Me.

Oh my god guy(s), allow me to talk like a teenager for a bit, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan opens on my BIRTHDAY, TOMORROW, which is the most divine slice of coincidental, made-in-chocolate-cupcakes-'n-kittens heaven, it's too perfect, I'm going to die.

Actually I'm not, I'm going to go see it asap. The first time I'll've seen a movie during the day in the theatre the day it comes out in like a decade. When I was four-ish.

For a while I kept all my movie tickets. In the 80s. I wrote on them what I saw and with whom I saw them. I wish fervently that I still possessed these artifacts. They would read something like "Damien, Out of Africa," which was a total snore, "Lynne, Tootsie," (hey! Happy birthday, Lynne!) (hers is the day before mine) (I don't think she reads this) (I should call her tomorrow) and so on, but I had like thirty of them, and I know they would be way better than I can remember.

There was an arcade attached to the theatre and for some reason we always went in there, I guess waiting for the movie to start, after our parents dropped us off, even though whenever I entered an arcade I just stood around like I was on Mars, having philosophical internal queries with myself about why such things as arcades existed and what was the point. I played Pacman halfheartedly a couple times. Maybe I was there to scope. An arcade has to be the worst place to scope. All the guys are completely immersed in this stupid game, facing away from any human contact. And who was I scoping anyway? Mulletted, peach fuzzed arcade-game dorks in Metallica t-shirts?

Whatever, anyway.

So, I know, without having seen it yet, that it will be the best movie ever made. The trailer alone made me cringe, howl, pee, want to cut myself, and despise yet perversely adore Amurrika. As well as adore Sacha Baron Cohen, and former Soviet republics. Which I already did. The last part anyway.