Cheap beer, shit food and Alana.
Denny's is a weird place to go a)before midnight b)sober, but after seeing a film in the city and discovering anywhere we knew was now shut (getting old) we made our way there.
The ambiance of Denny's is best summed when you first walk in the door, there's a couple of notices with CCTV pictures of valued customers and a trespass notice for Tracey Hughes of New Windsor. There's the usual crowd at 10pm, a couple of familes with kids hyped up on orange food colouring, a couple of people on dates, and, as you'd expect a group of drunks. These weren't the troublesome kind, so drunk at their nieces 1st birthday that their eyes are watering and red as the slur something about coming to this land and fish hooks.
Between the four of us we ordered the following:
Premium burger, this seemed to go down a treat, for the most part is was described as "what you would expect" from Denny's
Millienium burger - that's right Millenium, maybe this was better in 1999 when we were all worried about y2k but this was as dry as fuck, I poured a glass of water on it and it was still dry.
Chilli cheese fries - these were just just chips with some kind of beaner - muck concoction smeared over them and then microwaved to fuck. When we asked how much to make the fries in this curly we were told maybe $3.80, we sad we'd maybe pay that much
Buffalo wings - now these run you $20 and honestly are just fucking chicken nibbles from paknsave with a bit of sauce on them.
The highlight was Alana. Alana had us transfixed, a true white rose among a mass of brown, muddied, dying flowers. Alana was half pixie, half temptress, half school girl, while not our main server she really looked after us, she even took the time to educate us on the difference between Katy Perry and Iggy Azelia, Katy Perry, of course was her favourtie. LOL! They way in which Alana's petite, well manicured hands glided across the table to collect our plates was delightful. She skill fully balanced the large plates in her small hands while simultaneously shaking pepper onto our meals, she was certainly a girl not a stranger to multitasking.
During our visit we were lucky enough to watch Alexander with Colin Farell, This was a historical epic in search of a tone it never quite conquers, Oliver Stone's three-hour labor of love is simply laborious, a ponderous behemoth of a film that favors breathy exposition over the more battle-savvy aspects of the young king who by the age of 32 ruled virtually all of the known world. There's been much talk of the film's accurate portrayal of the Macedonian Alexander (Farrell) as a bisexual naïf hurled into conflict by the forces that surrounded him, but the film focuses so much on the quasi-Shakespearean machinations of Alexander's serpent-loving mother Olympias (Jolie, sporting a Russian-esque accent that makes you wonder if the greatest threat to her son's rule might just be Moose and Squirrel), that Alexander himself comes off as the king of indecision. His lifelong love affair with childhood friend Hephaestion (Leto); his marriage to his first wife, Roxane (Dawson), a Persian; his ascension to the Greek throne; and his many strategic triumphs all take a back seat to Stone's penchant for longwinded melodramatics. It's never a good sign when a film starts off with a scene set on a painfully obvious interior soundstage, but that's just what happens here, as Hopkins' Ptolemy recounts his days with the boy king to his long-lashed scribes. The set, with its chintzy-looking art direction, might have been acceptable had this been a Steve Reeves swords 'n' sandals skirmisher, but Stone is clearly aiming higher, and falling farther. The film's two major scenes of military conflict - the battle of Gaugamela, where Alexander's force of 40,000 bested the Persian King Dariussd III's 250,000-strong army, and a third-act forest routing in India - are given short shrift and photographed in that jittery "you are there" un-StediCam-style that renders the action impenetrable. There is one fine moment in which Stone's camera soars aloft with a bird of prey as it swoops over the battleground, providing one of the film's only moments of actual clarity. But that's over in a moment and it's back to the film's single greatest miscalculation: read more
