By Russell Crowe
I am celebrating my love for you
with a pint of beer and a new tattoo.
Imagine there's no heaven.
I don't know if you're loving somebody.
To be a poet and not know the trade,
to be a lover and repel all women.
Twin ironies by which great saints are made,
the agonising pincer-jaws of heaven.
If you can walk with crowds and keep your virtue,
talk with kings but not lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
if all men count with you, but none too much,
yours is the earth and everything that's in it
and what's more, you'll be a man.
It's only words,
and words are all I have
to take your breath away.
No, I don't need anyone to tell me how incredibly bad that "poem" is...no producers were harmed in its recitation, heh. I haven't done a raging fangirl post in years, and looking at the photos from the Empire Awards last night, I had a flashback. I mean, Viggo Mortensen had his arms around either Sean Bean or Jason Isaacs in every photo I saw of him, and Jason was kissing Helena Bonham-Carter hello and saying he told his wife he was scared he'd have to follow Russell onstage, and Tom Felton was going on about how much fun it was being at the awards with his "dad" and "aunt" -- this is all worth sharing, so here are The Leaky Cauldron's photos of Jason, Tom and Helena, and here is The Guardian's coverage of Russell, and here is Sean hugging Viggo in The Daily Mail (more of their pics here). Okay, I'm finished. *g*
My kids had no school on Monday for end-of-semester reasons, so I took them to Bagel City for lunch, then to Sears because Daniel is going to New York on Thursday for a three-day choir festival and has once again outgrown his black pants. I figured Sears was a good bet to have relatively inexpensive dress pants because they always carry suit coats and blazers for kids at schools where they're required, but they were pretty wiped out for the season (Target last week was out of absolutely everything school-year appropriate) and it took several tries to find a pair that fit, at which point the kids were antsy and we left without finding anything else they need for the summer. Later in the afternoon, I took Adam and his friend to tennis, though no amount of exercise seemed to calm everyone down today!
Baltimore's Mount Vernon Square on Saturday, with George Washington, a wedding, and lots of blossoms:
After dinner, we watched the Maryland women end their season as they lost to Louisville by nearly 20 points, failing to make the Final Four even though they were a number one seed. Marissa Coleman sat and sobbed inconsolably. Given that I no longer care who wins either the men's or women's tournament, March Madness is over for me! We watched Heroes, which held my interest better than the past couple but I'm still not feeling the love -- for one thing, I'm very sick of Jesus allegories and churchgoing on every single science fiction show I watch, and for another, when Sylar talks about how men love being powerful and hanging out with different women of allure so much that it's a cliche, I want to scream at the screen that it's sure as hell a cliche of this series. I get the impression that Zachary Quinto is now phoning it in as much as Adrian Pasdar has been for more than a season, and I can't really blame them, since no one including the writers seem to know who their characters are from week to week.