Selectively Bitchy

…hormonally-controlled and ranting about it…

Christian Bale and our abusive relationship

Its not yet a known fact, but I love Christian Bale.  Ok, now its known. I’ve enjoyed him ever since I laid eyes on his gorgeousness in American Psycho, though I did take a brief break from him and enamored myself with Eric Bana in Munich. Then he started looking a little too mouse-like for me and I went back to Bale.

Until that recording of him going on his PMS ranting streak got leaked.

I listened. I was a bit suprised (and I also enjoyed it–his Welsh accent is sooo sexy when he’s angry). But my love for him continued (hey, we all have our bad days and I, of all people, totally get the whole being-a-bitch-while-you’re-PMSsing-is-okay-because-it’s-PMS thing), just like the wife who makes excuses for her wifebeater husband. The first blow always has some justifiable reason. Afterall, it wasn’t Christian, it was John. John Connor. Heck, it may as well be my fault.

Then today, I read that Bale had forced a rewrite of Terminator, and the director McG,  has gone on record before to talk about the process of re-writing the script with Bale. At a Toronto press conference in January, he said, “I went to see him… He reads the script and goes, ‘I hate this, it’s sh*t.'” Even after hearing that McG’s visuals would be informed by everything from Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, the works of Philip K. Dick and video footage of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, Bale still told the filmmaker: “That sounds great but until it’s on the page: f**k off. Get it so we can read it in a room, without special effects and explosions and still have it be engaging, then I’ll do your film.”

And while I do feel strongly about douchebags and how to identify, label, hunt and kill them, I just can’t quite do the same with Christian Bale ( Colin Farrell, yes, any time and I don’t care how good he was from behind the other day). Surely he was ovulating, feeling bloated and moody or craving chocolate and couldn’t find quite the right type of chocolate bar to satisfy his menses-induced hormonally-controlled musings.

Any other man and I would’ve turned and ran the other way, but not Bale. No. He could do no wrong (with the exception of his role in The Machinst where I almost did run as far away as I could from his 90lb withering frame). Speaking of which, i just realized another man on par with Bale is my boyfriend.

After spending some time digging around for pics of Bale and his awesomeness, I started to notice how similar my bf and Bale look. Interesting. Maybe that’s why after almost three years of dutch ovens, burbs, slurps and other sweaty gross things (sweaty dutch ovens included), I’m still around.


1 Comment»

  Miss Rosa wrote @

Hmm. At least your boyfriend isn’t all Christian Bale abusive! Real life really is better than fantasy sometimes, eh? (Other than the dutch ovens.)

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