So I finally got to see my pal Dave’s new house yesterday; they were more settled-in (as Dave put it, “I have a place for you to sit now.”) and we both had holes in our schedules. It also resulted in the following unfortunate sequencing of Tweets, when my live Tweet butted up against a queued Tumblr post:
It’s a nice house. He’s put a lot of work into it, and intends to put some more. Dave is one of those handy people, a tinkerer. He’s the exact opposite of myself, who can’t put one piece of paper on top of another without disastrous results. Also, unlike his old apartment, he was able to attack the set-up of his home theater sound from a zero point, rather than piecemeal. Which was also fortuitous, as the room he was allowed for a makeshift man-cave was oddly shaped, and defied a traditional set-up.
After demoing the sound set-up with the battle of Helm’s Deep from The Two Towers, we settled down to some serious martini-quaffing and movie-watching. Dave wished to further shake-down his system, so my choice (from a number of DVDs I keep leaving with him until I can badger him into watching them) was Shoot-Em-Up, which has my vote for possibly the Most Gleefully Stupid Movie Ever Made. Which is not to say it isn’t cool. It is intensely cool. But it also does not pretend to be anything it isn’t.
Afterwards, Dave was amazed I had not yet seen Tropic Thunder (I been busy. Sue me.), so we took care of that.
So I’m thinking that now I might not need to see The Expendables.