I am no lightweight snake-o-phobe, and there was no fucking way I was going to see "Snakes on a Plane." In fact, 10 years ago, having blacked out more than once on the streets of New York after seeing people wearing snakes around their necks, I joined a study at Columbia Presbyterian to get six free sessions of desensitization therapy. It helped, but it didn't make the fear go away.
So I was plenty pleased when Tony found some other people with whom to see the movie last night, while I had a lovely dinner at Terzo with a new friend. This morning, I got the full rundown on "Snakes." T loved it. Apparently, the film was a tour de force of corniness, plus there was no stingy amount of gratuitous nudity. Other than hundreds of attack snakes pouring out of every vent and hole on screen, what's not to like?
Anyway, Tony wants me to make it known that he doesn't think his car is a piece of crap, as I do.
In other news, go Yanks!