Saturday, September 11, 2010

11 hours of my life

Mockingjay. The finale to the Hunger Games. The awesome, agonizing, hilarious, terrifying, horrid, super-cool trip through the dystopian future of North America.

It's hard to explain, and impossible to effectively describe. But I would recommend it to anyone.

Without going into a long explanation of why it's good while not telling anything about it, I proceed on with the photo-essay.

I apologize ahead of time for the, um, heinousness of some of these pictures.
Not all are flattering, but all are accurate. (Unlike that clock in the background).

I can't go on any long rants about crazy-go-nuts stuff that happened in it. I want to. But for the sake of my sister and her roommate (as well as any others so far deprived of the book), I won't.

*heavy sigh*

However, I did document my reading. These pictures were actually taken during the reading adventure. Apparently my face isn't as expressive as what was crazy-spiraling through my head. But you get the idea.

Also, the very most intense parts warranted no pictures. Not because my faces weren't undeniably priceless. But just because there was no way on the planet I was going to bother with the camera at a time like that. Seriously.

So, here we go. The ups, downs, and in betweens of Mockingjay.

In these two, someone just got pwnd.
That is to say, burned. In the non-literal sense. It was GOOD.

I think we can call this the "as close as you can get to the fetal position without actually putting the book down" picture.

The progression from bad to worse during serious parts.

Yes, I really do this while reading certain things.
Laugh if you must.

This one is the most very real pic I have.
Literally, I read the page, slapped the book down onto the bed, and just sat there for like 7 minutes.

There were only 2 pics during the last third.
That's just all I could manage. Nuff said.

This is a combination of the book intensity, and the severe distress I was faced with in having had to go to work today. For four hours. WHILE copies of Mockingjay stood ready on a shelf, on hold for others. Mocking me, as it were. It didn't help that I walked to work with the book, and had it in my locker. For emergencies.

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