Can't think of a title for true suckage

And no, I'm not talking about my writing.

I'm talking about this horrific, ridiculous movie called The Family Stone. The moron who told me it was a romantic comedy had to have been smoking some serious weed. First off, there is nothing romantic about the so-called romance in the movie. Frankly, the romance arc was sloppy and so poorly done I wanted to hurl things at the tv. Second off, there is absolutely nothing funny about the rampant insensitivity in the movie. Fart jokes I can handle, but making a person who's trying so hard to fit in look like a fool is just plain cruel. In the end, they tried redeeming it with a piss poor epilogue, but frankly, the growth arcs were so lamely done I didn't buy it.

Someone please kill me. I just wasted an entire evening on crap. This is why I don't go to theaters. The movie was highly recommended, and it was such a collosal waste of my time and the $4.50 it cost to rent the thing, I can't imagine how pissed I'd be if I'd spent double to sit in a dark, uncomfortable place where I didn't even have the distraction of my laptop.

I am now at the hard part of the revisions to this book. I thought a feel good movie would put me in the mood for digging in and getting these edits done, but at the moment, all I want is to blow something up. Sadly, in my latest terrorist book, nothing gets blown up. Which is a good thing, because my hero is a would-be suicide bomber who changes his mind. Why did I decide to write a book that would be perfect for blowing stuff up and then create a main character for whom blowing stuff up would completely destroy the story?

Okay. I'm going to go to bed now. Maybe the universe will appear happier in the morning. Or else I'll have thought up a way to blow up something in this book.