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Mon, Jul. 2nd, 2007 | 04:22 pm  slavezombie


Sicko
slavezombie

Wicked hop

I saw this film at the Grove last night an I didn't think it would make me feel emotional about all hardships. Word of advice, if you go see the new Michael Moore film and enjoy releasing your feelings, take a hanky. I'm just a sucker for tearful people. It's bad enough to see a woman crying, and I'll admit that is even more sad watching a grown man in this state, not that Sicko contains such scenes. I've made myself a promise to not give away the movies I review in my blogs. SPOILERS are a four-letter word.

Some of the cases in this film remind me of situations that I've been in before, though they were far from comparison to sample injuries in the movie. Unemployed, without insurance, I rammed my shin into the corner of a coffee table. Ironically, it occurred when I ran to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee and make it back to the living room before I missed anything from one of those afternoon daytime talk shows. Montel Williams, or something. I had a limp that lasted several weeks. Every indication showed that I may have had a hairline fracture, but I wasn't going to see a doctor and get an x-ray. That same year I entered the LA Marathon. Silly me.

Years later, I find myself clipping my toenails and pull a ligament in my ankle on the same leg that I had bumped long ago. This only felt like a cramp that never went away. It also felt like I had a rubber band implanted in my ankle and it was being stretched to its limit. The year was 2003 when my boss order me to follow the blueprints of the building where I work to arrange the furniture according to floor plans. This involved lifting a heavy roll of carpeting which resulted in further damage to my ankle. It was about the same time that Ozzy Osbourne had his reality show and he was shown limping as well. Ozzy and I had the exact same limp and www never seemed to notice my injury. Incidentally, www stopped by my job yet again today. Everyone was pretty shocked, to say the least

So I find myself looking up information about Hillary Clinton, because though some of the reviews I've been reading about this film emphasized the contradictory positions that some of the subplots expose about having medical insurance, I think it would be nice to learn another language and live in a country with universal health care. Aren't patriotic Americans always telling people with radical views to take their ideals elsewhere anyway. That being said, I have to wonder whether or not those same Americans aren't trying to pack their bags and settle in Iraq themselves.

I have to disagree with DFL's entry on this film when he pokes fun at Michael's opinion of Hillary's sexiness. When I think of Hillary, I'm thinking sexy because this is a woman who will stand her ground standing in the mosh pit watching hard rock bands blast their tunes while the dainty, petite toy barbi dolls are strewn through the air as crowd surfers being snatched and groped and felt up. I ask myself, do I want my lady doing that? Hitching her up on my shoulders while she exposes her boobs to the band might be hard on my back. So I say, taking Hillary to a concert would be that much more fun.


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