I fell into a burnin’ ring of fire:
I finally saw the dragon movie this weekend. Not quite enough Christian Bale sans shirt to suit my tastes, but enough to get me to sleep at night, I suppose. I really hate that they capped his gorgeous British teeth for American Psycho. Now when he opens his mouth, there’s a freaky picket fence thing going on in there.
I like to think that I could overlook this, were Mr. Bale to suddenly divorce his lovely wife, cross the Atlantic, and seek refuge in my apartment for a few days. Or weeks. Whatever. I’m just that big-hearted, non-judgmental kind of girl.