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Violence, loud music, gore, flaming god villain, hot semi-nude VELLY fit men wearing little leather shorties or nothing at all, capes, beards, sweaty glistening pecs, bloodshed, sex, violence, stabbings, limbs gushing, heads lopping, beards, rippling six-packs, rippling backs, beards, rippling shoulders, rippling eight packs, beards, pert bottoms, rippling chests, beards.
What's not to like?
Labels: 300
posted by fatmammycat at 4:37 p.m.
10 Comments:
I saw the trailer of it and decided Not For Me.
FMC,
You're the tops!
You're the big banana!
You're the tops!
You're the Club Havana!
You're the sparkling bubbles, in my glass of champagne...
But baby most of all...you're the tops!
I love singing on a Sunday, me. I read your ‘teenage conversation’ last night.
It is a work of art.
Eva, the beards...
Thnak you Docky, that was a lovely song, I hope you're feeling dandy this fine morning.
The Iranians are all wild about the way the Persians are portrayed in it. I haven't heard the whole story mind and might have it all ass-backwards. It could just be that they didn't think the little leather shorts were little enough.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
I didn't know I could delete like that! Anyway, all I was saying was "Hey sugarplum, it's a school-night and it looked like you're up awfully late according to my site-meter so i was just stopping by to check y'all's OK, like."
Then I felt daft for doing that 'cos, hell, what business is it of mine, and shit? I've blogged until the wee hours many a time for no particular reason. And besides it might have been another Irish person altogether. So, yes, I'm a twit. And a dork. But I make a mean banana loaf so i'm off to have some of that now in all my twittery.
See this is what comes of watching bloody Meg Ryan films.
Meg Ryan is a trouty faced harridan. It is 7AM and I have coughed myself up. I now sit here drinking Beechams Hot Lemon while Puddy rolls around on the floor under my chair in delight at someone being up so early.
Cold are bleee. I"m trying to beat it senseless but I feel I"m going under.
Sounds like some Frankie goes to Hollywood video to me
You know what has worked for me the last two times everyone in the house has had colds? This thing called Zicam - I don't know if they market it under another name in Ireland or the UK.
It's a gel stuff you squirt up your nose and it's supposed to reduce your symptoms and the duration of the cold by inhibiting the proliferation of germs already there.
It really made a difference to me. Everyone else was laid pretty low all shivery with blankets and sore throats and stuff. Child the Second still has a hacking cough from it even now, weeks later, but I just had a few sniffles, felt a bit logey for a day or two and that was it.
It might be worth a try if you can get your hands on it.
I'm already rattling with 'products'. I think I'm going to spend the day snuffling and drinking hot drinks. Perhaps moaning and prodding the odd cat with my toes going 'Wha're yud lookin' ad?'
Primal! ha! Yes indeed it does. God I remember back in the day seing the full video for 'Relax' on the telly. I swear to Manolo I almost died because Gamma was still alive then and she was sitting be side me on the red velvet sofa (I wonder where that went actually). She kept saying, 'Who's that chap now, what IS he doing?'
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