Went to see King Kong tonight, a.k.a. the film ‘…Where If You Think This Is As Bad As It Gets, Something Worse Happens,’ and ‘… Naomi Watts Wears Her Slip In the Jungle and Suffers Every Physical Calamity Possible Yet Sustains Hardly A Scratch’. And her mascara remained unsmudged.

But facetiousness aside, that Peter Jackson sure knows how to make movies because that was one Mutha of a film! It’s been hyped, and then hyped some more, and it totally rocked. I’d read that there were parts in which Jackson had gone a tad overboard with the special FX and some scenes dragged on and on, and EPI was all wiped out from working megaovertime in the past week, so I comforted him by saying that there would be parts in which he could snooze. Whell. Was I wrong? Was I wrong? – Yes, I was wrong. There was not a single second of snoozing to be done because all three of us [RE too – EPI’s daughter] sat on the edge of our seats, gnawing our fingernails the whole entire time. [Except in those scenes when our mouths were hanging open.]

Plus it had humour, and emotion, and was most happily devoid of the nauseating sentimental yick that most big-budget Hollywood productions inevitably segue into at the end. So go see it!

… Hot on the heels of his brother Þvörusleikir – Pot Scraper Licker – comes Pottasleikir, Pot Licker. [Gee, wonder if their mother ever got them mixed up?] That’s pot as in kitchen utensils. He was a crafty fella this one, and had no qualms about preying on the weak, i.e. when children were handed the scrapings from the pots [Child Services, anyone?] he knocked at the door, and when the kiddies rushed out to see who it was [yipee, a visitor!] he dashed in and gobbled up all their food. What a cad!

[And he is now doomed to deposit gifts in children’s shoes from now until forevermore, nyah. Divine justice.]

Same as yesterday except with less wind, which was nice. Clear and dry. Frost all day, hovering around the –4°C mark. Sunrise was at 11.17 and sunset at 15.30.