The year of the peanut M'n'M's

The Year of the Dog.

Guy told me that all Molly Shannon movies are bad. I told Guy that this one would be different. It had come highly recommended by someone who knew my love of dogs. Someone who really doesn't know me very well as it turns out.

Just in case you thought you might go see this movie, I'm going to spoil it here. Fair warning.

It wasn't an awful movie. It was a pretty typical Mike White film. Slow dialogue. Long pauses. Camera shots straight on the person talking. It was an okay film. However, dogs die and they have a shelter scene that while very inaccurate, still got to me. It didn't matter that all the pretty purebred and clean dogs were in clean spacious kennels, they were still behind bars and I couldn't stomach it very well.

For me though, it was the first dog death that was absolute torture. Molly Shannon's dog dies from poisoning. An adorable beagle named Pencil. Dies. In the first part of the movie. I began to sob. Loud audible sobbing. In a movie theater with only 6 other people in it. Needless to say, I was a little obvious.

Obvious, until I dropped my peanut M'nM's on the ground. You know what the main difference is in plain and peanut (besides the peanut, smartass)? The shape. Peanut M'nM's roll better.

Dropping dozens of peanut M'nM's on the concrete downward sloping floor of a more or less empty movie theater is a great distraction from your crying. It sounded like an old fashioned pinball machine as the M'nM's bounced off of chair legs and possibly peoples' feet and rolled all the way down to the front of the theater. I'm sure it was distracting.

Distracting, until Guy started laughing so hard that it began to sound as if we were both sobbing.

Then we just went back to being the freaks in the back who were far too invested in a film. Don't know fantasy from reality. Animal loving crazies. Or at the very least, clumsy M'n'M eating morons.