I watched Black Adam this weekend and came in with low expectations due to the reviews I’d seen. I should have remembered my old rule concerning the critics. If they hate it, I will probably like it. In this case, Black Adam came in like Elvis and entertained me like few movies have in the last few years. Is it perfect? No. But every character had a chance to shine, Doctor Fate seriously chewed up the scenery in a good way, and Black Adam had both moments of pure awesome and deep tragedy. Being entertained is all I ask of a movie, and Black Adam nailed the landing. I hope the actors had as much fun making the movie as it looked like they did in the finished product, and I certainly enjoyed watching it as much as the Aquaman and Spider Man films. If this is representative of the kind of finished films the new leadership of DC will be putting out in the future, a new challenger in the superhero films market has truly entered the ring. My verdict? Two lightnings bolts, way up.
Okay. Fine. Yes, I have kissed Rosalie and Rosalind. No, it was like kissing my sisters. Because, let me say this clearly for those of you in the back. My parents gave birth to one kid. That would be me for those of you who took the short bus in today. Then they helped raise a bunch more. Rosalie and Rosalind were there from the beginning. And my dad had a strict rule about us doing things together that would force him to go talk to their dad. He didn’t want to have that conversation, so he would make certain I regretted it if it happened. And no one wanted to mess with my dad when those Old World Scandinavian eyes went hard. Yes, me, Rosalie, and Rosalind had a lot of fun times. We loved each other, and we worked together and hung out together all the time. And yes, we slept together more times than I can count. Platonically for those of you giggling in the back! The key is, we never did anything stupid. More due to their good sense than mine, of course.
Is it impossible for people to understand that guys and girls can be “just friends?” And by the way, I hate that phrase. “Just friends.” Like it is… SETTLING for something less if you don’t frak a girl. And speaking of phrases I hate, no, Rosalie and Rosalind were never “friends with benefits.” We were BEST FRIENDS for as long as I remember. And since we’re from Northern Minnesota, that definition gets pretty Puritanical. I swear, making eyes at a girl might as well be foreplay. Getting caught at second base is a prelude to a shotgun wedding. And dancing? With music? Without a chaperone? Positively living in sin! What do you expect of a culture more famous for bonking a future bride over the head while “off a Viking” and taking her home rather than… oh… courting them? I never did either with Rosalie and Rosalind. Not then. Not later. Not now. I hope that is frank enough for everybody to understand. Even those of you in the back.
A gentleman does not kiss and tell, or NOT kiss and not tell, as the case may be. And while my qualifications as a gentleman are often questioned, I do try to play one in public. Now Rosalie and Rosalind asked me to answer the top three questions about us, very simply, so here they are. Yes, we have slept with each other. No, we have never been lovers. Yes, I know how many freckles they have. No, they are not the same number. It disappoints me so much that these are the questions people care about. The truth is that we were tour guides together for most of our early life. We took vacationers out to see the wilderness all the time, and we often slept overnight out there since the deep night is where some of the most amazing sights are found. It was easier for everyone if we just zippered our sleeping bags together than it was to fight every horny vacationer who “just wanted to share body heat” with them. If I had a quarter for every time we heard that tired old line…
Rosalie and Rosalind were pretty much the perfect girl friends a growing young boy like me could have. They were blonde-haired, blue-eyed, drop dead gorgeous bombshells, not that I noticed the last part until I was older. I could flirt with them all day long, and they gave back as good as they got. And that’s the whole story, there. No drama. No crazy. No tales of loves lost and found or heartbreaks or anything like that. They were just some of the best and most dependable friends in my life. I loved them like sisters. I know there are rumors that I loved them more than that, but they were not interested in me in that way. It was basically the ultimate friends and family zone. They were the best wingmen a young man could ask for. They were girls doncha know, they knew all the best girls in town, and they knew which ones would maybe like to hang around with a rascal like me. I loved them so much for that, let me tell you.

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