"Then that Cobain pussy had to come around & ruin it all."

At the end of a long work week I didn’t have much left in me last night, so we met up with CBGB at The Auld Spot for some comfort food and beer. Disappointingly something seemed to be wrong with the Denison’s, but a Mill Street Tank House Ale did just fine. Really, I was just in it for the pulled pork sandwich. Which I love. I know this because typing the words “pulled pork sandwich” made my mouth water. Hey, there it goes again.

Upon returning home we could see Buskerfest happening just down the street from us, but it was a little chilly out and, as I said, energy levels were low. We also have a mission to clear off the PVR before leaving for France, and so we watched The Wrestler (imdb | rotten tomatoes). It was excellent, as I expected it to be by now. I think I’d put off seeing it for so long because I know how wracking Darren Aronofsky movies usually can be, but this one didn’t leave me feeling drained. Of course, all the things I’d heard about Mickey Rourke’s performance were true. He was on the screen virtually every second, and made Randy the Ram real when it would have been so very easy to make him a farce, or fantasy.

Actually, I’m rather glad I left it this long. I think if I’d watched it when it first came out the hype — the unrealistic expectations of the miraculous performance we all heard about — would have blurred what a wonderful performance it actually was.

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