When my mom reminded me about going to the strip club tonight, I initially sulked, wanting to read.

Upon arrival, I quickly got over that.

Now, blatant pornography isn't my thing. There's nothing terribly sexy about just watching (simulated) sex, to me anyhow. Is it wrong that I spent most of the evening only passively watching the action and plotting a police!Sync story with Chris the no-bullshit captain who is nonplussed by Joey the smartalec detective, whose new partner, Justin the eager rookie, might have a thing for JC the coroner, but really, it might just be all about Lance the assistant district attorney.

That is, until Chicago came onstage.

The song Candyman has been forever and ever ruined for me, in only the best way - I only gave out two dollars the entire four hours we were there, and both were about five minutes before we left when he was freed up from lapdance duty enough to dance for a minute on one of the many such-intentioned tables set up. I still smell like him, the hotter than hotness man with the perfect abs and shaved head and non-functional sunglasses with the little American flag in rhinestones at the lower left lens, the most sweetly deceptive cocky smile ever and thighs I can't rationally go into right now.

In other strip joint news, about half the boys are gay, I do not share most women's taste in men, the strippers don't just flirt with the ladies and each other but the waiters too (who were known to give impromptu lap dances), tearaway Marine uniforms are maybe even more obscene than some of the things these boys did, and there's definitely something to be said for having a wardrobe of thongs and pants that fasten with snaps along the outer seam (which may have led to contemplations of Lambs fic where Justin comes backstage after and Nick points out, smirking, that he skipped a button on the left side).

It's good to be twenty and still have things to experience for the first time. Keeps the jadedness at bay. Mmm. Sweaty, toned manflesh. Good times.

"Am I free to state for the record one last time that that's a *very* big screen?"

Dude. Every movie worth its salt should be shown IMAX size. Also, there are just some things that don't get old - Smith flirting with himself is always a big point of Squee! (on a related note, Hugo wears that suit, man); the Twins, well, no need to really elaborate there ("We owe you for that." Scrapping in the backseat with Morpheus! Which sounds a lot dirtier than it actually was, but hey, still cool), and I've read a lot about how they shot the freeway scene but man, how the fuck did they do that?

Preview for Revolutions - Itching to know how all this ends up being the (*cough*epiclovestory*cough*) story of Neo and Smith.

So apparently, IMAX has a policy whereby they have to shut down the projectors in case of severely inclement weather, which has been looming all day. And so it happened that the occasion arose - smack in the middle of the Burly Brawl. What is that, I ask you. Seven minutes out of a two and a half hour movie. Unreal.

They have a 3-D one about the International Space Station which looks hella cool, worth checking out though closer to home.

And then later tonight, The Animatrix twisted my brain. Humans creating the Matrix to control artificial intelligence instead of vice-versa and other such things. Was especially fond of A Detective Story's animation.

Tomorrow is iconing and fic discussion with Miranda, and maybe, just maybe, life will subside enough to let me start Order of the Phoenix.

Oh, and Lance is the Hotness.

That is all.