My Story…

Not every story has a happy ending. Some have weird endings and those are the kind I like. I don’t like the cliché prince charming and the peasant damsel with ivory legs type; like the Ken doll and Barbie. I don’t like them, at all; really makes my bile rise. It’s like those baby formula and pampers ads with the cute baby and mother with flawless skin and perfect face with pearly whites yet here I am with skin like that of a dehydrated hump back tortoise and my face is riddled, no, plagued with pimples and acne like I survived the black death. It makes me want to shoot my TV sometimes.

The storylines I prefer are the ones where the cleft chinned, superman looking MI6 hero, with the glass house and Aston Martin DB9 in his garage does not get the ivory legs. No, it is his tall, lanky, geeky looking sidekick whose only superpower is knowing how to handle his machinery (ahem). The gentleman who still loves SpongeBob and has every Patty LaBelle album ever made. He rarely goes out and just for fun likes to dismantle his computer and put it back together or hack the Pentagon. He has a special skill set that can only be seen when you put a PlayStation console in his hands. He loves ice cream and cannot hold eye contact with a woman for five seconds without pissing his pants. He has never dines with the Queen and neither does Chef Ramsey owe him a favor. In fact, for all intents and purposes, outside his work station he is literally a nobody.

I like the ones where it is not the damsel who is in distress, but it is the damsel who is doing the rescuing. For many reading this, it is possibly not your first pick, especially the guys. I mean, which testosterone infused ego would desire to look like James Ellsworth (if you don’t know who that is, I admonish you to take a moment and google him as it will help put what I am about to say into perspective). I like those where the lady barges in guns blazing, distracting the bad guys with the impossibility with which her well-manicured fingers are handling a semi-automatic assault rifle; giving an image that is both intimidating and arousing. I like the ones where she is the one who owns the Buick and it is him who gets water splashed on him as she drives by. This will act as a good conversation starter for when she wants to treat him to a night around town.

I like the stories whose endings are not what you expected; those that make you want to restart the movie as it puts the last two and a half hours into clear perspective. It’s like restarting an exam when this time you know the answers to all the questions. I recently watched Will Smith’s movie Collateral Beauty and it took my breath away; not so the whole movie (which was brilliant) but the ending. The possibilities and mind bending ideas that it suggested, just by the ending alone, left me in awe. If you have not watched it, kindly get it, Will won’t disappoint.  I remember rewinding it on my DVR severally to ensure that I was seeing the right things. Now such tickle my fancy, I don’t know how it will end so it keeps me in anticipation of it.

I like being surprised and proven wrong but hate it at the same time. This makes it close to impossible to please me when it comes to entertainment. I would rather watch a detestable but unknown flick than suffer through a disappointing yet anticipated (supposed) blockbuster. But all in all, I love the creativity that goes into the making of these stories; the manipulation of the wills and emotions to produce a momentary (read 2 hours) thrill and excitement that acts as a temporary blockade to the cares and troubles of everyday.

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