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Adventures in Wonderland…

I just won tickets to a preview screening of Alice in Wonderland as part of the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival. I’ll have my review up on Monday morning, but in the meantime, here’s how I won. It’s a reworked version of The Walrus and the Carpenter. Apologies in advance to Lewis Carroll, his estate, fans of the poem and people with taste.

Apologies in advance...

The Blogger and His Girlfriend

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright—
And this was odd, because I sat
In the cinema to my girlfriend’s delight.

Mr. Depp was starring sulkily,
Because he thought “What fun
To do another film with Burton
This should surely be the one—
But then it matters not,” he said,
“There still that Dark Shadows remake to be done!”

The seat was wet as wet could be,
The 3D was a worthy try.
You could not match to Avatar, because
It was rendered on the fly:
No scenes were projected overhead—
But still the glasses strained my eye.

The Blogger and the Girlfriend
Were sitting hand in hand;
She wept like anything when he
Secure tickets in such demand:
“I’ve worked the box office before,”
She said, “They must be worth a grand!”

“If seven trips to seven bathrooms
I made while we here,
Do you suppose,” the blogger said,
“The other cinemagoers would imagine it quite queer?”
“Oh vey,” sighed the girlfriend,
“I told you not to have that beer.”

The use of CGI on show,
The blogger did impeach.
“A giant stalk, a rabbit talks,
Although it is quite neat:
It seems that Burton’s grasp,
Shall not escape his reach.”

The considered girlfriend glanced at him,
But never a word she said:
She simply tutted to herself,
And shook her little head—
As if to say his speech out loud
Would banish him from bed.

But four young viewers shuffled up,
And to the blogger they’d entreat:
Their popcorn was ate, their drinks were flat,
Their chocolate melted on their seat-
And this was bad, because, you know,
It’s very tough to eat.

Four other viewers glared at him,
And bid him speak no more;
But thick and fast his comments came,
The warning he’d ignore-
All hopping through the verbose words,
He truly was a bore.

The blogger and the girlfriend
Almost made it through the show,
Until an usher heard him mutter,
Although he thought it fairly low:
And over the employee came
To tell him he must go.

“The time has come,” the blogger grumbled,
“To rant on many things:
Of chewies—and tickets—and loyalty stamps—
Of sticky floors—and rings—
From a mobile not turned off—
With that tone Beyonce sings.”

“C’mon now, sunshine,” the usher said,
“Outside we’ll have our chat.”
And to his girlfriend the blogger turned,
But she’d had enough of that.
She’d read the book years ago,
And the chance of leaving this was fat.

“Ah c’mon now,” the blogger said,
As he followed the usher’s lead.
“For all this blatent rudeness,
Is there truly any need?”
But in the foyer he ended up,
With a flimsy magazine to read.

“That was great!” the girlfriend cried,
When bidding the film adieu.
“It was a solid film I just did see,
Without interruption from you!”
“The foyer’s fine,” the blogger lied.
“The posters are all new.”

“It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!”
The blogger said nothing but
“Give me advice:
I wish to view the film—
But should I wait for Disney on Ice?”

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