![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Weekend summary, with bonus Hammett
Aug. 21st, 2006 08:14 am(Because no one reads LJ on weekends).
1. We caught Snakes on a Plane. We loved it, but judging by the ticket sales, it was seen by everyone on my friends list, and no one else. At all.
2. I made fun of spammers.
3. We saw a screening of How to Eat Fried Worms, at which we had fun and won a free DVD.
4. I snarked at a moron who was too stupid to read a Dashiell Hammett collection (and a few of you added bonus snark in comments).
Incidentally, now that I've re-read the first two stories that the moron in question found too archaic to read, I'm only convinced that I was too nice in my original assessment of her. The problem I have with reading Hammett (not dissimilar from the problems I encounter reading Austen or Shakespeare) is that every other sentence is so delightfully crafted, it's hard to not to just sit back and re-read each paragraph instead of moving forward in the story.
Two great moments from "The Golden Horseshoe" (both set in a seedy Tijuana bar):
1.
2.
1. We caught Snakes on a Plane. We loved it, but judging by the ticket sales, it was seen by everyone on my friends list, and no one else. At all.
2. I made fun of spammers.
3. We saw a screening of How to Eat Fried Worms, at which we had fun and won a free DVD.
4. I snarked at a moron who was too stupid to read a Dashiell Hammett collection (and a few of you added bonus snark in comments).
Incidentally, now that I've re-read the first two stories that the moron in question found too archaic to read, I'm only convinced that I was too nice in my original assessment of her. The problem I have with reading Hammett (not dissimilar from the problems I encounter reading Austen or Shakespeare) is that every other sentence is so delightfully crafted, it's hard to not to just sit back and re-read each paragraph instead of moving forward in the story.
Two great moments from "The Golden Horseshoe" (both set in a seedy Tijuana bar):
1.
I walked down the room and sat at a table in one of the stalls. A lanky girl who had done something to her hair that made it purple was camped beside me before I had settled in my seat.
"Buy me a little drink?" she asked.
The face she made at me was probably meant for a smile. Whatever it was, it beat me. I was afraid she'd do it again, so I surrendered.
2.
I was reading a sign high on the wall behind the bar:
ONLY GENUINE PRE-WAR AMERICAN AND BRITISH WHISKEYS SERVED HERE
I was trying to count how many lies could be found in those nine words, and had reached four, with promise of more, when one of my confederates, the Greek, cleared his throat with the noise of a gasoline engine's backfire.