Friday night, my friend Packy and I went to see Rambo. Think what you want, but I’ve always been a big Rambo fan. Yes, even the third one. No oscars here, unless there’s one for ‘volume of dismemberments’. But I digress…..
We got into the theatre about 10 minutes early, and were greeted by 3 HS dudes running around throwing garbage at each other. They mistakenly got there 30 minutes early, and to their credit, chilled out once we arrived. Guy after guy streamed into theatre, which is to be expected. No chick flick here
About 10 minutes into the movie, it happened……
A family walks in and sits in front of us.
A Dad and mom, and 4 kids.
What’s the big deal you say?
2 of the 4 kids were probably not in school yet, kindergarten tops. The other 2 couldn’t have yet been in MS.
The carnage took on a whole new perspective. It was all we could do not to get up and lead the kids out ourselves. The more disturbing part was that it didn’t really seem to bug the kids too much. I kept thinking that they would hide their faces or jump during the explosions, but they just appeared to sit there and munch on their popcorn.
This is just more evidence towards some sort of parental licensing. You need a license to drive a car. You need a license to own a gun. Yet any man and woman who can fog a mirror can produce offspring.
HD is not kind to my man Sly.