Running To 21 Jump Street

I have a new fan.  (The human kind, not the oscillating kind.)

Now that it’s beginning to warm up, I’ve started running outside again.  Since my last outdoor run of the fall, we have moved to a different part of town and I have found a new route.  (Yay me, I’m up to 6+ miles per day!!!!!)  Part of this new route takes me along a somewhat busier street in town and I am cursedly fated to face the oncoming traffic.  (For those of you who run, you are likely to agree that it is far preferable to run with the flow of traffic, so that your flushed/fatigued face isn’t as blatantly obvious to those with the luxury of being behind the wheel.)

Over the past three days, I have twice encountered the same red Ford Focus.  Both times, this individual has honked at me.  For those of you who have read my posts in the past, you will know how irritating I find this gesture.  (See Winners Stalk At Daybreak.)  Mind you, this particular horn honking doesn’t seem to be hostile or even pervy in nature.  It is almost as though I am supposed to know this guy. 

But I don’t.

I know that assholes come in all shapes and sizes, so because this guy is irritating, I have decided that he fits the prototype.  Let’s face it:  It isn’t my striking good looks that make him honk.  The wild bed head, cherry faced lunatic with bugs plastered to her face (yeah, I’m that fast) conjures up images of this 80s fashionista…

…not Megan Fox.

Speaking of American history, Habibi and I went to see a remake of an 80s pop culture classic last night:  21 Jump Street.

Oh.  My.

I have not laughed that hard since Zach Galifianakis became part of a true “wolf pack.”**  Despite the above average raunch (we were expecting some, but perhaps not quite this much), the movie had me holding my sides and squealing like a little girl over various cameo appearances, including Ice Cube, Nick Offerman (Ron Effing Swanson, guys!!!), and Edward Scissorhands himself...Or maybe it was Jack Sparrow...Or Sweeney Todd...Or Willy Wonka.  I don’t know, that Depp clown is always doing something weird.  *Wink*

Jonah Hill (Schmidt/Doug) and Channing Tatum (Jenko/Brad) had quite the onscreen chemistry (ap chemistry, for those of you who have seen the movie).  Although Slim Shady was not popular in 2005 (that song came out when I was in middle school, not in college), I will concede that the 2005 re-release had white people across America either dying their hair highlighter yellow or vomiting in public.  (Schmidt fit the former category.)  Yet I found myself willing to overlook this historic inaccuracy as I dried my tears of laughter during the drug-induced montage of the two leads.  Let me just say that I will never think of high school chemistry or of Mary Martin as Peter Pan the same way again.

Overall, I think I will be filing this movie into my guilty pleasure category.  Maybe next time my new “fan” honks his horn at me, I will slide across the hood of the car, punch him in the face and read him his Miranda rights.

**The Hangover