Sunday was my day to go on my trail of tears hike with the lovely Enrique, but someone got turnt up at a wedding on Saturday night and cancelled plans with me. I would’ve asked my husband to go, but someone (hint, HIM) doesn’t like physical activity (You missed the bitching on the seven-minute walk up to Dundee Day on Saturday. You’d think we had run a half %$#@ing marathon.) and had to sit around editing his podcast. This — editing for three hours — apparently causes a muscle cramp in the wrist. When I came home he made me pull his arm. This is NOT the same as pull my finger, thankfully. Anyhow, I decided to tackle a trail of tears of my own.
It started out like any other hike, music blaring, trolling down the trails, one or two slight trips over fallen walnuts or holes that I didn’t see (I’m super graceful, obviously). A few weeks ago a creepy mustache man appeared from the woods and warned Enrique and me that if we head toward the river, it was flooded and overgrown. We naturally thought he wanted to kill us. Flash forward and who suddenly appears, wearing the exact same clothes as a few weeks up, but the same creepy guy. He said something to me, but I just smiled, said hi and kept walking.
A little while later, while walking up a hill, an old guy with hiking poles stopped me to talk. He warned me against continuing this one trail and held up his arm. It was covered in green prickly things, the path was overgrown. I told him thanks, and continued on my way again. I approached a fork in the paths, heeded the old man’s advice and took another trail, which hopefully wasn’t overgrown. It wasn’t. But, as I was approaching the end of this new trail, I noticed white signs on trees. I’m pretty much legally blind so I couldn’t read what they said. Once I got closer to them, I noticed the signs were warning signs: I was now on private property where no hunting was allowed. I then stumbled upon an empty ranger barn-looking structure, gravel driveway blocked off by a chain with a no trespassing sign. I decided I should turn around, and somehow ended up on a new trail where I discovered some True Detective bullshit. It was a memorable hike to say the least.
When I came home, my husband informed me that Lord Richard Attenborough had died (can one be a Lord without being British and a lady? I can in Scotland, just saying…). He was the grandfather in Jurassic Park. So to cap off the night, we decided we should revisit Jurassic Park to see if it holds up.
Wait, this is how Jurassic Park starts?! A dinosaur in a crate with a bunch of dudes with guns surrounding it?! I don’t believe it and suggest perhaps we are watching the wrong movie. My husband tells it me it’s true, this is how the movie starts, and if I were a true fan I’d remember. Ooooh burn. Apparently I don’t remember shit about this movie besides the theme song, and Samuel L. Jackson’s death.
Even upon viewing, I’m still not convinced this is the real beginning of this movie. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sam Neill,” – my husband. Who is he announcing that to?
Nope, that is in fact NOT Sam Neill, it’s some other white dude (he’s white racist) being pulled onto an island on some planks by some ethnic workers. I don’t remember any of this! I thought the movie started with Laura Dern and Sam Neill flying to Jurassic Park.
I NEED MORE MARGARITAS!
If I recall correctly, this movie made me think a career in archeology would be a blast at the time of first viewing it. The Cosby Show also made me think being an OBGYN would be fun, but that was proven not true, so I digress.
This is seriously how the movie starts? I thought we just jumped right in?
Me: “Is that Jake %$#@ing Gyllenhaal?”
My husband: “Yes, that is Jake Gyllenhaal.”
Me: “Are you %$#@ing with me?”
My husband: “No, that’s %$#@ing fat, young Jake Gyllenhaal.”
Me: “For real?”
My husband: “Yes. No, I have no idea if it’s him or not. Google it. %$#@ it, I say it’s Jake Gyllenhaal.”
A quick Google search of “Jake Gyllenhaal in Jurassic Park” yields numerous results. Apparently loads of Internet peeps believe that little fatty to be him, alas it is not. But goddamn.
I feel I’m 30 minutes in and have devoted more time to figuring out if that kid is Jake than to watching the movie. So Richard Attenborough, the reason why we are watching, is now on screen. He was like what, 70 when this shit was made? I’m terrible at math.
What the %$#@ island is Newman on when he meets the dude he’s smuggling dino embryos to? This is not even important, but I can’t focus.
Let’s not lie, Jeff Goldblum stole this movie. Move over T-Rex, Goldblum is on the prowl. Speaking of Goldblum, you’ve seen this shit, right?
Undeniable: This movie has one of the best scores ever, am I right? If you disagree, we are no longer friends.
That background score though, that’s what sells this shit. I will say the effects of this movie still hold up. My husband and Sam Neill are both crying right now.
I always wanted an amber piece of jewelry after seeing this movie. Thanks for nothing, mom.
My husband is mumbling something dramatic to me about someone in Russia cloning something. I can’t hear him because he has the volume on our TV turned up to %$#@ing 11.
I have a question! I know that a handful of peeps escape the island, but I totally forgot about the handful of scientists and such. What happens to them? Not including Samuel L Jackson. I’m very concerned about the psychologist from Law and Order SVU. Does he die?! Unsolved mystery! Someone Sherlock this shit for me.
Do you guys remember that TV show Dinosaurs, it used to be on TGIF? Go back and re-watch because that shit was dark. It ends with the mother%$#@ing Ice Age and them huddled together in their house in warm clothes while it snows and the temps drop. THEY ARE WAITING TO %$#@ING DIE! Our childhood was much darker than we all realized. You’re welcome.
My husband is way more into this than I am. Especially every time Jeff Goldblum opens his mouth. Upon re-watching, he seems to be the only fool to question why the %$#@ we think it’s a great idea to recreate dinosaurs.
“There’s a major storm coming, we know about it, but YOLO, go forth island grandchildren and scientists into danger!”
Yeah, those dinos still look %$#@ing cool as shit. Especially the sick Triceratops.
Squeezing the puss filled lump on the triceratops tongue, still super %$#@ing gross Laura Dern.
Again, major storm heading straight toward the island. No rush in getting anyone back to safety, so keep messing around in that giant pile of shit. Really this is their fault. Humans ruin everything.
Side: I feel we should talk about how Suge Knight was shot six mother%$#@ing times and didn’t die. That’s either a testament to his survival skills or his would-be killer has a bad ass aim. End side.
These two kids are way smarter than I ever was at their age. I would probably die in Jurassic Park. No shame, I just know my place.
This is terrifying! How is this a family movie, Mr. Spielberg?!
Besides being lost in space, and being buried alive, this movie might be my worst nightmare.
I could never save Tim as I’m pretty sure I couldn’t climb a tree that high. Although, in the movies they seem to make it fairly easy to climb said trees. I should learn this for when the Zombie apocalypse strikes. I’m gonna want to be a Maggie and not a Beth when that time comes.
The foot print water moving tremor scene is still gold!
Could a Jeep really outrun a T-Rex? Anyone?
I love that Richard Attenborough just sits around eating gallons of ice cream, like, oh well. My grandkids might die, but I should still keep making dinosaurs. Also this German chocolate flavor is dope as shit. No Laura Dern, get your own spoon, bitch.
Again, I repeat, where are all the SCIENTISTS?!
For funzies, look up the scene where the kids are in the kitchen hiding from the dinos but look it up and Google “Jurassic Park cats.” You’re welcome.
I never saw the other Jurassic Parks, but I have to assume nothing good comes from abandoning a park full of dinosaurs.
Thank you, Sunday funday. You’ve been a gem, but I’m out!
Kacie Baum is a professional partier, mother of two pugs, and the wife of Matt Baum. She tolerates the constant presence of the Two-Headed Nerd in her home each week. She did not write this bio. Pre-THN entries of Girl Meets Nerd can be found here.