On another note, we watched a Hindi movie.

I made the cake in the middle of it. It wasn’t a typical Hindi movie. There was no romance. Or, rather, the romance was a deception. It was all violence, police corruption, saving the good guy, and fighting the bad guys. Lots of people died. Lots of blood, all of which strangely stayed a very bright red color. And there was singing and dancing, but not as much – only maybe three songs instead of the usual eleven or twelve.

The main actor is an older guy – early fifties? I’m really not sure. He was a big actor years ago. Famous. In everything. But he went broke and came out of retirement to earn a living. And now writers and film makers write movies for him – he’s that big an actor. Numero Uno. And he doesn’t do any of the usual movies – big on romance or singing and dancing. He’s too old to play the love lead, so he does other types of movies instead.

Okey dokey smokey.

Author: LMAshton

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