This week, I’m taking a staycation in Melbourne and what a jolly good feeling it is to not be at work! I’ve been thoroughly enjoying my favourite indoorsy activities, thanks to Melbourne’s reliably shithouse spring weather. This has facilitated lots of lovely catch-ups with friends, reading fiction, drinking coffee, pottering around at home, and going to the pictures.
A while ago, a friend had the genius idea that we design and execute a custom-made movie marathon along the following itinerary: coffee/movie 1/dinner/movie 2. WINNER. The last time I went to a movie marathon, it involved a secret vodka supply (I think) and either Mum or Dad having to pick us up at 5.30am. This one was much more civilised.
Our first film was Pina in 3D (or, if you are my childish/hard of hearing friend Dan, Penis in 3D, although I am quick to assure you it isn’t that type of film) which was truly extraordinary, as was my interval Grill’d burger. However, I feel the need to tell you, dear readers, that Drive is a completely terrible film that could kindly be described as an unintentionally hilarious, steaming, festering, fly-ridden turd. So I’ve decided to take a letter. Continue reading