Now I Wanna Be Your Blog...

I'm Not As Fucked As You Think

2007-10-31T16:06:00.000-07:00

Here I lie, 2007 behind me, 2008 ahead. As bad as it's been, it's really not been that bad. I've somehow gained a sort of weird confidence that I've never had before. When I'm afraid I'm not really that afraid. When I'm sad I'm not really that sad anymore. I've had just about enough of me and I'm sure the rest of you have too. I'm getting angry about things. Passionate. I kind of want to punch some people in their mouths. I'm no longer interested in coming to terms with the idea of securing a livelihood. A career, a family. Those used to be things I wanted that seemed unattainable. Now I just don't want them. Talk to me when I'm 40. Those are the things that hold you down. In 2008 I will do what I want. I will move to Chicago, but I don't know if I'll hang around there. I can go anywhere. I can trick anybody into giving me a job anywhere I want one. I'll take their money and quit, do it again somewhere else. Why haven't I been doing this? It's so easy. I'll spend every cent I ever make and, like the song, die penniless and alone. And it will probably be great.

This is my last post in this blog. I'm self-censoring because of some of the people who are reading it. That's no fun. Don't worry, though. If you're wondering why I wouldn't want you to read this then it's not you. I'm sure I'll start up a new blog (with a name not nearly as great as this one) sometime soon and if you have an interest I'm sure I'll make it obvious to you where it is located. Now I Wanna Be You Blog, though, is officially kaput. Thanks for reading.

Once Again, Fuck American Apparel

2007-10-30T16:49:00.001-07:00

Seriously.

The Worst Year of My Life

2007-10-29T15:33:00.000-07:00

I'm calling it - 2007 has been the worst year of my life. It's official. And it started with such sweet promise. Let's recap, vaguely.

DELETED

I got about half way through the list and decided I shouldn't post such a thing. You don't care and I should be moving on. Anyway, it's been a rough one. Here I am, though, blogging away. This is my life. This is what I do. Even when I greatly improve it, assuming I do, it's still going to be the same thing, right? This is why I told Eric to sign me up for a year of eHarmony for Christmas because, really... what the fuck else am I going to do? I have to at least try to get a girlfriend in 2008, right? I've never really tried such a thing, but it's time, homie. Kiss me, Little Juan. I would be good with a girlfriend. I doubt anyone believes this, but it's true.

2008 has to be great. It has to. I will move, which is the wild card since I'll be getting some serious lonesome in the City on the Make, but it will be better than this and it will surely be better than Columbia based on the movie theaters alone. I will just need to make some friends. I can do that if I allow myself to talk to strangers. I can convince people to like me quickly as long as I pick the right people. Others don't realize I'm cool for several weeks/months, unfortunately. So that will be some kind of adventure in it's own right. I'm probably going to go to the Insub. Fest in June which will be cool. And if Eric's living in Maryland I'll get to stay with him. And I get to go to Alaska for Eric's wedding in August which will also be awesome. Just one of those things murders every good thing that's happened to me this year. Well, maybe not everything, but a lot of the good things that happened this year are immediately connected to really shitty things, so that's no fun. I think I had hoped that losing weight would be more fun than it is. It's not fun, it's boring. I don't think any girls are going to want to fuck me more at, say, 180 than they would want to at 240. I'm too weird looking, regardless. I do feel healthier, though. I can run around and stuff pretty easily. I'll be in good sprinting-away-from-muggers-shape, maybe.

So, even though it's only October, I want to offer up a big fuck you to 2007, death, social anxiety, chronic depression, and New York City. You've all been a dagger in my guts for the past ten months. I've taken it from all different directions multiple times from each and everyone of you. Leave me alone already.

A Shocking Realization

2007-10-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I smoked illegal drugs because I felt like it. I rarely feel like such a thing, but I felt like it last weekend so I partook. All was well for a while and then I got this horrible stomach pain than crippled me throughout the rest of the night and into the early morning. I thought those illegal drugs were to blame. How wrong I was.

Guacamole is my enemy. Even though I like the taste of it, I have been rendered a crying freak in the fetal position on the bathroom floor by the fucked up shit it does to my stomach. I cannot eat it without getting violently ill. The last time I puked was because of the evil guac. And I puked like nine times that night.

Guacamole is made from avocado. Less than an hour before I broke the law I, fool that I am, ordered an avocado chicken burger from Ruby Tuesday's with a Jones' Cream Soda. Cream soda has been known to give me headaches and hurt my stomach, but I like it so I don't care. Avocado has been known to put me in some of the worst physical pain I've ever felt. What the fuck was I thinking? Why did it take me until today to figure this out. And I thought it was the drugs fault. The drugs helped! I would have felt way worse were it not for wonderful, delicious, illegal drugs.

In other last weekend news, I think someone punched me in the face. Eric's fiance Heather is my number one suspect. I allegedly went to sleep on the concrete floor of Bobby's garage (face first) and then Heather allegedly dragged me from the garage into Bobby's living room and put me to bed on the couch. I have no memory of any of that. I just remember the crying. Assuming she did manage that, which is crazy if true, something tells me she probably saw an opportunity to punch me in the face and went for it. My jaw is in a lot of pain. Something happened to it. I didn't start noticing it until Monday, though, which is when I started feeling hungover meaning I was drunk all day Sunday as well.

Oh, debauchery. I once knew you well. Sadly, though, we are too far apart to ever be close again. I am 26-years-old and I blacked out from drinking. That hasn't happened since before I even turned 21. For shame, me. For shame.

Doggystyle

2007-10-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

An issue has arisen in regard to my trip to Columbia this weekend. I forgot that I have to take care of the dog. Hmm... I'm not sure what to do about that. I'm hoping that maybe my neighbor will come over and feed him and let him out. I would consider bringing him with me but I almost wonder if that wouldn't be more traumatic for him than just leaving him here for two days, something I can't do unless someone comes over to let him out. Stupid Dillard.

I got my camera for 50 dollars less than I was willing to spend and 30 dollars less than the lowest sale price I had found. AND I got the black one instead of the all silver, which was the style I preferred. Yay for me! Unfortunately, I can't think of anything to take pictures of. The "Child Molesters, Lesbians, and Gays" sign has been replaced by a "For Sale" sign by the neighbors, so that's no good. I'm going to take the damn thing with me everywhere I go, though, so surely I'll find something to photograph. Here's that tree I was bragging about a few posts ago:

Hopefully I'll get lots of debaucherous photos of drug abuse and kinky sex acts, possibly involving a small dog, this weekend.

Goliath Wasn't No King

2007-10-11T22:02:00.000-07:00

As part of my new living well regiment, I've been drinking half a gallon of water a day. Eva Mendes drinks a gallon a day and claims it makes her skin glow. I'm working my way to a gallon. I've been peeing a lot.

It's cold out there on my bike. I need some gloves. Where can I buy some cool gloves?

Today I was asked if I was single. I kind of scoffed and said, "What do you think?" She said something along the lines of, "How the hell should I know? I don't know you from Samson." I said, "Well, I'm no Samson." She said, "Well, Goliath then." I said, "Well, I'm no king, either." She said, "Goliath wasn't no king, he was a giant!" I said, "Oh, I thought you were referencing David, who killed Goliath and later went on to become a king since my name is David." She looked at me and said, "No."

I need to learn how to have a conversation with a person. Living well requires quality communication.

I Live in Well

2007-10-09T15:29:00.000-07:00

I'm plotting revenge against someone who... well, let's keep it at someone. And since living well is the best revenge according to some random-ass clergyman poet, I'm going to start living well, motherfuckas. I'm going to be healthy. I'm going to... uh... I don't know what. How do you "live well"? Maybe I should work on my appearance. I would like to be pleasant to look at. Maybe it will help me trick some girl into kissing me. So, how do I go about being attractive? Should I start paying more than 13 dollars for a haircut? Maybe. I'm totally balding now. It's fucking bullshit. I hate haircuts. Do you think a 20 dollar job would help me, though? What about a 50 dollars job? FUCK! That's alotta dough for my thinning dome pubes. I don't know. I need help. I need a life coach. No more running half miles! A full mile or nothing! No more listening to Neil Young's "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" on repeat all night (after tonight, that is). No more diet cheating. I bought fucking crackers to snack on today. Healthy ones! They say "garden" in the title. Gotta get good looking eating crackers!

It's Fucking On

2007-10-07T19:32:00.000-07:00

It's fucking on. I am NOT going to let this get to me. When this gets me down I'm going to get angry and then I'm going to run until I puke and then I will feel better. I've got to get down to my fighting weight. It's time to fight. I'm not fucking around anymore. It's time to move. It's time to get lost in a big, scary city where I know no one so I can focus on less painful depressing things. I will not find an excuse to stay in Missouri. I will not cater to second thoughts or other people's wishes. I will not waste any money. I will not allow myself to fuck anything up ever again. That's it. It's fucking on. Oh, and I might need to quit all social networking websites.

Speaking of not wasting money, I ordered this today:

A camera and a computer are in my pre-move budget, though, so it's okay. Sort of. And I bought it with money I won gambling and wiping mold off of my dead grandparent's furniture, so it was sort of extra. Not really. I'm feeling guilty about buying it, but it will be okay. Now I can post pictures of the things I look at every day for the two people who read this blog. Wait until you see this oak tree in the backyard. It's something.

I'm about halfway pissed off at all of my supposed friends who don't want a fucking Happy Holidays card from me. Jon, you're excluded from that group. A true friend is Jon. Fuck the rest of you people, assuming the two other people who asked for one don't read this blog (which I am assuming).

I can't wait for tomorrow so I can start looking forward to the end of the week so a new week will start and I can start looking forward to the end of it. We've got to get to 2008 on the double. I need that shit.

Hey, does anyone want to smoke some drugs? I need to. It's time for me to do that. Let me know if you'll let me do drugs with you. Thanks.

If You Don't Know What I Mean Then You'd Better Look Out

2007-10-03T21:18:00.000-07:00

I went from being in a pretty decent mood to feeling like I'm going to vomit depressing sayings all over chest in a sort of vomit-covered magnetic poetry way in a matter of seconds. I feel terrible. God, this sucks. I don't want to have to get up in the morning. I will never get to sleep tonight, I'll just toss around. Fuck. This is so fucking stupid. I'm angry at myself for feeling this way. All I want to do is lay on the floor and drink. That's terrible. I don't want to feel like this.

Baby Wants to Fuck Blue Velvet

2007-10-01T08:31:00.000-07:00

Thursday I went to St. Louis with Eric. We had plans to do lots of nice things that normal people do, like go to the science center, the zoo, and maybe even tour the brewery if I couldn't convince him to take me to the botanical gardens. Needless to say, we ended up at a casino. I won 100 bucks gambling with Eric's money! That was cool. Eric won 800 dollars, 500 of it on one spin of the roulette wheel. Fuck all of that science garden shit, we got free money instead! Then we went to Zia's on The Hill and ate. It was romantic. Then we went and saw King of Kong, one of the best movies of the year. I had so much fun watching it. Billy Fucking Mitchell. That guy needs his butt kicked. After the movie we picked Heather up from the airport. We weren't even late I don't think. Maybe we were.

Friday I went to Kansas because I was forced. I spent most of my time there wiping mold off of my dead grandparent's furniture. It was a good time. My mom only threw a five pound metal pipe on my big toe once and my dad only spoke to me like I'm a deaf dog ten times. I did get to talk to my aunt about movies, though, which I like to do. She always recommends movies I've never heard of. Apparently The Weight of Water is really good. I reminded her of how she let me watch Blue Velvet when I was ten or so. My mom would have sent me to Christian school had she known what I was watching, despite the fact that she was probably in the next room when I did so. My aunt is cool.

Anyway, here I am this morning. Alive after a busy four days. I'm feeling fairly okay these days because I'm finally starting to piece together how and when I'm going to move. That's also somewhat scary, but moving to a large city by myself is a lot less scary than staying here. I made it through Blue Velvet when I was ten; I can handle anything.

Hot Turkey

2007-09-24T09:36:00.000-07:00

I left a sealed container of shaved turkey on the floor board of my mom's sweet PT Cruiser last night. Yeah, yeah - I know getting it from the deli is far better but I don't allow myself to go to Wal-Mart during deli hours. Too much risk. So I deal with the pre-packaged shaved turkey. One of these deals, right?

Except that one doesn't appear to be fully packaged for aesthetic value. It's sealed up tight in a plastic bag and then the bag is sealed up tight in a plastic container.

I think you know where I'm going with this - can I still eat this turkey? I've still got some deli turkey to last a few days but I don't want to have to go back to the store later this week. Will I die if I eat it? Am I disgusting if I eat it? Does anyone who reads this blog even eat meat? Gail? You're the person who reads this blog. Will this turkey kill me? Is death what I deserve for eating a turkey that most likely didn't die naturally? And how about that Jared Allen? And why do I feel like I'm always spelling your name wrong?

Oh, turkey... And Gail(sic?)...

The Shape of David to Come

2007-09-23T22:14:00.000-07:00

Ten years ago, I was in love with a girl named Katrina. I found her lovely in every way, except for her seemingly advanced sexuality. That bothered me. She was a year younger than me and had already sexed up at least one fella two years older than me, maybe more. She had also touched my best friend's wiener. Most girls I knew in high school had. I was terrified of her because of all this. I've always been more comfortable with the idea of never touching a girl than allowing the possibility of me disappointing one. Not particularly rational, granted, but it's the way I thought and it's really not so far from the way I still think. If you can call that thinking at all.

Katrina was really perfect beyond that, though. I thought she was just beautiful and she was far more artistic and intelligent than me. Her handwriting was delicate and sexy. I remember it well. I regret throwing out all of the letters she wrote me in those days, but I'm also glad I'm not reading them now. Everything she did was so cool. And for reasons unbeknownst to me, she seemed to take everything I said so seriously. She always looked at me like I had something to offer her, which was the exact opposite of how I felt. I have no clue why she put up with my awkwardness around her, but she always did, very sweetly. It was almost as if she were taking care of me some of the time. Weird. Kate is one of the only fond memories I have of high school. We were never together because I never asked her out. I remember the night she was expecting me to ask her out. I'm not sure how it worked out, really, but I knew I was supposed to call her and either ask her on a date or to a dance or both. We talked on the phone all the time. I wanted to do it. I gave myself a serious pep talk that night and picked up the phone. I called and hung up after one ring. I couldn't do it. I was too afraid. She was too much woman for me. I loved her too much. I didn't want to let her down. The salt in my wounds was when she immediately called back and hung up after one ring just as I did. She had been waiting for me to call.

Tonight I was at the Whole Foods/Ikea/Macy's/Home Depot of the town I currently reside in, Wal-Mart, in the soda isle debating whether or not to get Dr. Pepper of 7-Up when my peripheral vision caught glimpse of a pretty girl. I took a peek around the corner and, much to my amazement, it was Katrina! I was terrified all over again. She was with some real trashy looking skater kid who had the most pathetic moustache I've ever seen. I decided to leave the Dr. Pepper and not even bother picking up any Lean Cuisines; it was time to leave. Once I reached the front of the store, though, I had second thoughts. I was certain I could get a better look at her without her seeing me. So I slowly made my way all the way to the back of the grocery section where I assumed she was. I had grabbed a cart at this point (some Romaine and tomatoes as well) to protect me from the potential awkwardness. Even worse than awkwardness, what if she didn't even recognize me? Maybe she wouldn't remember me at all?

In the roomy comfort of the dairy isle I was able to come around an island of Hostess snacks and catch her profile while I quickly strolled pass, non-suspicious-like. It was a sixteen-year-old girl. Not Kate. I haven't seen Kate since she was sixteen. I wouldn't even know what she would looks like these days. Seeing her now would just be wholly depressing, anyway. I want to see her when she was sixteen. I want to not hang up this time. I want a lot of stupid shit I don't deserve. Ten years later is a long time to be seeing female mirages. I worry about ten years from now.

Kid Nation: Reason To Live

2007-09-19T21:38:00.001-07:00

"Kid Nation" has changed my life. I was crying like a baby during tonight's premiere. When Jimmy raised his hand saying he wanted to go home I cried and when all the other kids were begging him to stay and he said, "I'm too young for this!" I cried harder. He's totally right, but I still didn't want him to go. He's adorable! Oh, little kids. Sophia is great, even though she whored it up by dancing in the streets to make money to afford a bicycle. Michael is amazing. He gives these random speeches out of nowhere that are so articulate and pragmatic that I'm totally jealous of him. You should read his interview on the CBS page! The kid is way smarter than me. That's embarrassing, but so be it. It's interesting how pretty much everyone of the kids thinks that global warming is the biggest problem in the world today. Anyway, Mike is annoying but I respect him and think he's got a lot of heart and Greg is a bully but he's also got a good heart. So it seems so far. He's going to start campaigning for the gold star next week, though, and that worries me. Bullies bully and there's really no room for that. It was so sweet when Greg asked Jimmy if he wanted to be his wingman and Jimmy was all, "No." Oh, "Kid Nation", you are a reason to live. I needed one of you.

I haven't had much to blog about lately, not that I ever do. I suppose I just haven't felt compelled. I've been doing other things, although nothing important. I can't imagine what I could ever do that was important, really.

I'll tell you about the biggest issue in my life right now. Well, actually, there are two. The first issue is that Amazon.com needs to refund me some money. It should be happening any day now; in fact, it should have happened already; but it could still take upwards of October-ish before it happens. It's not that big of a deal but it's the only money I've alloted myself to keep my Netflix subscription alive. I can pay for it still, but I don't want to because it's annoying and I'm trying to set budget-like rules for myself because that is something I've never managed to pull off successfully. The thing is, I don't even need Netflix right now. Turner Classic Movies has been showing excellent movies I've never seen before and I can't even keep up with them, let alone Netflix. I'm hooked on the Netflix now, though. I need it. I can't stop rating movies. I'm trying to use it as a way to vaguely guess how many movies I've seen. I think I've rated 400+ movies so far and I know I've skipped hundreds I've seen. I know I can break 1000. That's only a matter of time. I wonder about 2000, though. Is it possible that I've seen 2000 movies? Surely not, right? That's a ton of movies. I tend to doubt I can even hit up 1500. I want to try, though. So that's that problem which isn't really a problem at all, it's just dumb because I'm annoyed I'm going to have to spend 20 dollars I didn't intend to speed. Whatever.

My other problem is that I'm always trolling Half.com for cheap books. That's a problem in and of itself, but I ordered a book a week and a half ago or so, I think. And then, two days later, I ordered another book. Both books have the same method of shipping. I got the book I ordered second on Saturday. I also got an email notice that is what shipping. I haven't received the book I ordered first, nor have I received an email indicating it's been shipped. It's still within the guaranteed time, but that's kind of weird. I don't know why I give a crap since I have at least three books I intend to read before it, but this is an example of how uneventful my life is. I'm sure Larry David could make that story semi-funny, but it's not happening for me.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is one of the best movies ever. If you haven't seen it, see it.

I reckon that's all I've got. Good day.

Weekend Plans

2007-09-13T21:52:00.000-07:00

I'm going to get drunk alone again. Um... I'll probably shave with my new Gillette Fusion Power PHANTOM at some point because that's kind of fun. I will watch at least three movies, but more than likely five or six. I'm thinking I should masturbate at some point because it's been a while. I will water Abraham Lincoln. I will be bored. I will consider going to Barnes and Noble to buy these notebooks I'm convinced I need, but I probably won't because it's dumb to drive that far for notebooks. If there's anymore Hydrocondone around I will probably take some of that because I can't think of anything else to do. I might... fuck... that's all I can think of. Oh, I might get a Route 44 root beer at some point. Running. I'll run. God, running sucks. I hope I never get used to it.

I'm slowly figuring out how and when I'm going to move. I decided last weekend that it's time to move things into high gear. That involves sacrificing some of my pre-move goals, but fuck all that shit, I've got to leave. It's looking like I might take off right after Christmas, but I'm not entirely sure I can last that long. It needs to be at the end of a month, though, which sucks. It's time to go.

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia was awesome tonight. Hooray for a decent TV show being back on the air.

My Plans For the Evening

2007-09-08T17:26:00.000-07:00

I am not going to Springfield this evening to see Scott Miller, someone I've been dying to see again for the past seven years. A transportation issue arose, mixed with a lot of spite and pride. So, instead, in about an hour and a half I am going to attempt to run a mile. I think I've got just about enough anger in me to pull it off, but maybe not. I'll give it a shot, though. After, I'll have a good post jog stretch and take a shower. Then I will ride my bike with it's nearly flat tires to the nearest gas station and air them up. Then I will go inside and my liquor. I will then proceed to ride my bike back to my parent's house and get shitfaced in their guest room while they sleep below, just like I should have been doing in high school. I will more than likely listen to Scott Miller and Elliott Smith albums and longingly look at the Greyhound website. I need to research local storage facilities, too. It will be a fucking party. You're invited.

"It Looked Tastier Than Bleach"

2007-09-06T17:19:00.000-07:00

Here's a long list of celebrities who have attempted suicide.

Long List of Celebrities Who Have Attempted Suicide

I did not know that about Ken Griffey, Jr. Cobain should probably be on there since he tried to kill himself in Rome and lived.

Look At That!

2007-09-06T07:31:00.000-07:00

Holy crap. I've just been ethered by cuteness.

Provided by Cute Overload.

Ooh la la!

2007-09-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

Aw fuck, I'm bored. I keep wanting to blog but the things I write are dumber than usual. So I write, then I delete. This has happened several times recently.

Things, things... This weekend I'm going to see Scott Miller probably. That will be good and bad. Good because the last time I saw Scott Miller was completely amazing. One of the best shows I've ever seen ever. Top five, for certain. Bad because it's in Springfield and the venue claims to be "The Best Texas Roadhouse in Missouri" which is stupid and they have lots of hats and shirts made up. I dunno about this place. I'd wear a shirt if it were free, though. Shirts is shirts, but this place seems super lame and I have low expectations of Springfieldians, nay, Missourians, nay, Everybodyians in public places. Good because I just found out the original opener is no longer on the schedule! Their Myspace page was all Lynard Skynard covers. Bad because that might have been kind of funny. Good because Bekah might go with me. Bad because she might hate me these days. Also bad because Scott Miller's last two albums haven't been so hot. If he plays "Loving That Girl," "Goodnight Loser," "Dear Sarah," "Lie I Believe", "Can You Hear Me Tonight," "Cold, Cruel World," "Good Morning Midnight" or if he covers The Statler Brothers it will probably be worth the trip.

It will be a "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" weekend, too. I wanted to buy the DVDs but I've got some serious DVD priorities coming up so I Netflixed it instead. So, that will be fun. I'll be alone when I'm not in Springfield. That's good. I got some new books to read. So. Yeah.

Hilariously, in the next few days I will officially begin "researching" a subject I intend to write about in, uh... Well, I will be creating a piece of fiction, I suppose, that has a lot to do with the topic I will be "researching". Pretty fucking dumb, eh? I don't feel like elaborating because it's kind of stupid. I'm anxious to give it a shot, though. I've got nothing else to do.

Have you Mario Van Peoples been reading the news lately? Fuck me. The Minneapolis Tea Room, Unaccounted for warheads, that Fred Thompson dickhead, the new Bush book, PETA blaming global warming on carnivores such as myself and, most importantly, Kate is being banned from contacting Owen! I dunno. She's so cute. I would so attempt suicide over her, especially if I saw her making out with that fucking ridiculous lame ass that Crystal's so in love with, Nick Lachey video star, Dax Shepard! Oh, fuck that guy with a drill bit forever. Here he is pulling an Andy Roddick!

What a sweetheart.

I don't want to talk about the weigh loss issue. It went really well for a long time, then it stopped for a long time, then I started making some headway and was feeling pretty good about it, and this past weekend it went all to hell. Oh, and guess what? I've been jogging! If you can call it that. And guess what again? It's fucking TERRIBLE! I only run a half mile because I really didn't think I could do it without stopping. I've managed, though, surprisingly. It's not good, though. It took me 5 minutes and 6 seconds to run .6 miles. That is terrible. And there's no way I could have finished a mile without stopping. I don't think. If even I could have it would have taken 12 minutes. I want to be able to run a mile in at least under 8 minutes. That's not even good, but I guess that's my goal. Fuck. I only run every other night, too, so it will probably take me a while. God I hate fucking running! Why would I do this! Fuck.

I use Tresemme now. Tresemme, Tresemme, (see subject)!

Mind Change

2007-09-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

Entry deleted. Whoops!

Something Annoying

2007-09-03T09:30:00.000-07:00

The documentary on Henri Langois I've been waiting Netflix to send me since... Wednesday, I think? It is on Turner Classic Movies tonight at 10:45. Annoying.

Oct. 23 - The Greatest Day EVER

2007-08-31T21:03:00.000-07:00

Holy shit. The Criterion Edition of Breathless comes out this day, but I've just found out that... Oh, fuck, I'm so excited - NEW KUBRICK BOX SET! FINALLY!

Oh, happy day. I never bought the one that came out years ago because it was fucking shitty and ridiculously overpriced. It's been a real bummer not owning some of my very favorite films by my very favorite filmmaker on DVD all these years. All I've got is Dr. Strangelove (how many times have the released special editions of that fucker now?) and the Criterion Spartacus, but Spartacus only counts a little since he didn't direct the first two weeks and distanced himself form the film. On VHS I had The Killing, Dr. Strangelove, 2001, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, and Full Metal Jacket. I think that's it. All of those short of Strangelove and The Killing are getting two disc releases (with commentaries), AND AND AND Eyes Wide Shut, the real version will be included! Fucking finally! It's never been available in the U.S. which has been nothing short of ridiculous. God, I can't wait to own that. I love that movie so much and have gotten into screaming matches defending it. I'm not afraid to do so again.

So, no Lolita and, even lamer, no Barry Lydon (and no Killer's Kiss, but that wasn't expected, anyway). I'm cool with that, though. This set will be fairly affordable (80 dollars for the set when Breathless will be 30 dollars alone), at least. If for some reason I can't get it immediately I'll at least get it by Christmas. That makes me so happy. Oh, life is fucking grand. I wonder if Owen Wilson knows about this. Perhaps it could improve his life as well.

I'm embarrassed by how happy this makes me. Best news ever.

My Lonely Package

2007-08-30T13:48:00.000-07:00

I ordered two books from Amazon over a week ago and they just went out to ship yesterday evening. They haven't been anywhere other than the post office in Lexington, Kentucky so far. The package isn't expected to arrive at its destination until September 4, at the earliest. The problem, however, is that this package is being delivered to my former apartment in Columbia instead of the lovely town I currently live in. Since no one I know lives in this apartment, I'm worried about how I'm going to get my package here. I'm not entirely sure they'll need a signature. It seems like, in the past, they just left Amazon packages at the door. That's what they've done for me here, too. I don't want anyone snatching my books!

So, what should I do? Yeah, I know I'm an idiot for mucking this up, but it was one of those one-click order deals and it didn't dawn on me that this was going to happen because I am stupid. I e-mailed both USPS and Amazon about this and am waiting on their one to two day response time. Should I call the USPS? I've looked all over their site and they've got all these numbers and stuff. Guh. I'm hoping that, with the information I provided in my e-mail, they'll just be able to pull the package in Lexington and re-address it, but something tells me it's not going to be that easy. I was going to just call a general help line but I get all nervous about things like that and am hoping that they'll at least tell me what to do when/if they respond to my e-mail. I hope I don't lose my books.

UPDATE: USPS will not change the address due to security reasons. Yeesh. So, I'm writing a letter to whoever lives in my old apartment and hoping for the best. Goddammit.

I Am Alan Partridge, Suicide Inspirer

2007-08-29T07:08:00.000-07:00

Courtney Love is claiming that Steve Coogan is partly responsible for Owen Wilson's suicide attempt! I am thoroughly confused and wish I were half as interested. Sorry for linking TMZ. I read TMZ now because of this. I'm such a loser.

Bruno S. is a Man to Me

2007-08-28T20:42:00.000-07:00

My allergies were trouble this morning, so around noon I took some allergy medicine. That made me feel completely sick for the rest of the day. I could barely walk straight. If I can't handle allergy medicine how did I ever manage 300mgs a day of anti-depressants? And I think I should go back to that? Bleck.

I have mosquito bites all over the back of my neck and on both elbows. Why did they choose those spots? Why won't they leave me alone? Sometimes I will see a mosquito on my arm and I'll just watch her suck my blood. They'll suck for quite a while if you don't do something about it.

I watched Year of the Dog today. I like Mike White and all, but I was not in the mood for this movie. It was supposed to be a dramedy or whatever; in fact, in the special features every talked about how perfectly the comedy and drama was blended; but it wasn't funny. Even if I had been in a great mood the best comedic reaction it would have gotten from me would have been one of those closed-mouth "Huhs..." that is too lazy to be a chuckle. Fuck, that movie was depressing. And kind of dumb. I would say I liked it, though, strangely. Sort of. Barely.

Brass Eye is one of the funniest television shows ever. In case you were wondering.

I was supposed to go to Columbia this past weekend but backed out an hour or so before I was supposed to leave. I just didn't want to go. It seems like I should want to. I feel like I'm about to make the jump from anti-social creep to anti-social creep who can't even pretend to function in society anymore. I almost wonder if that's what I actually want. I'm like a horse with a broken leg who has the chance to go to a farm for horses with broken legs instead of the glue factory but I'm still managing to lollygag because I hate other horses. Oh, well.

Did you know that Napoleon was probably Kaspar Hauser's grandfather, via his Napoleon's adopted daughter Stéphanie de Beauharnais? Me neither. That's the only interesting thing I've learned recently. Other than Honest Abe Lincoln being a drama queen on a level comparable to my hierarchy. His late 20s remind me a lot of my junior year of high school.

Talk about a forced blog entry. Why write in a blog if you don't want to? Lame.

Fingerblasted

2007-08-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

A Series of Letters to the First Girl I Ever Fingered by Michael Ian Black.

I've Got Nothing to Say

2007-08-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

Things have been really weird lately. There was good news today. There was also other news. I'm having serious allergy issues from being outside all day. Werner Herzog is something. I can only imagine what Owen Wilson will have to put up with if he tries to continue on with his life. God, that would suck. Yeah, sorry I fucked up your movie, Ben Stiller. Sorry I made you feel guilty about making out with that douchebag from Punk'd in the grocery store, Kate Hudson. Sorry I tried to kill myself a few weeks before your movie I'm staring in came out, Wes Anderson. Sorry I can't do press for it and sorry that all the press everyone else does will be about me attempting suicide. That sucks. If there's a Hollywood dude I would want to hang out with, he is the dude. If he can't make it, well, Godspeed to the rest of us.

Moby Dick

2007-08-25T12:54:00.000-07:00

Have any of you ever read Moby Dick? Or tried to? How hard is it? I want to try but know I am destined to fail. I've gathered that the middle is rougher than a white squall. <---- Sailor talk!

My Aching Guts

2007-08-23T22:44:00.000-07:00

Well, now I'm all sorts of worried. Doctors and hospitals and medical procedures and awkwardness and insecurities and an unrelenting compulsion to care too much. Perspective is the pimp to the whore that is denial and this ho just got strong-armed. Life just keeps on coming no matter how hard you try to hide from it. Guh...

Change is Bad Unless You've Got Enough to Buy a Root 44 Vanilla Dr. Pepper ($1.82)

2007-08-23T13:12:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to change my blog duds, as you can see, but it's not working out so well. There's a lot of blue left and I've yet to figure out how to change it. I have to do it all in HTML and I'm not good at that. I'll try some more later but will probably fail. I will probably go back to the same template I had before because I can't find any that look decent enough and change is bad, anyway.

UPDATE: I went with a new template instead. I wish it weren't all blue but I'm not willing to change the colors, so this is it. Now with obnoxious widgets and a new one on the way soon!

Marijuana - Not For The Ladies

2007-08-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

This blogging about women and pot in The Stranger is kind of interesting. I wonder if the ladies really do feel pressure to not smoke pot because of their gender's status in society? Or whatever they were getting at. I think I know more women who smoke pot than men, but then I only know 11 people or so. The quoted part makes a fair amount of sense but it does leave the door open to imply that smoking pot can be a feminist act, as noted by Femiladyism. Surely being able to smoke pot with the same lack of judgment a man supposedly receives is not a goal of one of the many feminist movements these days, right? Isn't it a good thing to look down on men who do nothing but smoke pot all day? Not to mention the fact that Calvin Klein has made it perfectly clear that being a female junkie is sexy and cool. I don't know of any women who enjoyed fingerblasting themselves while watching episodes of "Shooting Sizemore", but what do I know. Women get the junk, men get the *insert slang term for marijuana that rhymes with "junk" here* (there has to be one). Fair is fair.

The Temptation of Adam

2007-08-20T06:04:00.000-07:00

This song makes me want to die it's so good. Seriously, it has convinced me that the apocalypse is upon us and it is a good thing.

Change In Plans

2007-08-20T05:14:00.000-07:00

I've recently concluded in the past five minutes that I need to become engaged to be married on the double. This can't go on any longer. I refuse to be alone forever. I'm twenty-six years old! Do you understand that people? I need a wife and I need one now. Don't worry about me being a fucking loser; we'll work that out later. Are there more than two girls who read this? Do you have desperate friends? If so, I want to meet them. Tell them I'm writing a play! I doubt they've ever been engaged to a real life playwright* before! What about the person who reads this blog in France? Are you a lady? Would like you to be a Missus?

Seriously, at least give me some leads here people. I'm looking for a wife, not a slut. A slutty wife, maybe. I've got to lock this down, son. I don't blog this early in the goddamn morning unless it's really important. This life of solitude will no longer stand. I'm not a goddamn monk. Yet.

* The dictionary does not back me up on this, so maybe my future wife needs to be a dummy, too, not to be too picky...

Here's Something I Hate

2007-08-19T22:07:00.001-07:00

I started writing this play today and it was going really well. I've written seven or eight pages fairly painlessly and I've got lots of notes and a fairly decent idea of what I intend to go on. I know writing a play is a fairly worthless thing to do, but that's not the point. I was just glad to be pleased with my efforts and slightly confident about the idea of finishing such a thing. But then...

Then I heard a song I had never heard before and it's the most beautiful song I've ever listened to. And it couldn't make me feel more worthless. I hate that.

Happy Lonely Fun Sad Time

2007-08-19T12:00:00.000-07:00

If I sent you a text message about a bridge in Korea last night, you're welcome.

Mandy Backdoor?

2007-08-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

I'm watching "I Am Mandy Moore" on Oxygen right now. It's just a documentary type thing of the promotion for her new album. Right now she's going on about Zack Braff but pretending that she's not. Guh. I keep forgetting she dated Zack Braff. I also can't believe she gave her virj to Wilmer Vladalaimpaler or whoever. I hate that.

Anyway, I listened to samples of all the songs on Mandy's new album at Barnes and Noble a few weeks back and I concluded that it is not good. I wanted it to be good but it's not. I figured Adam Duritz could write a better song than that, but then I remembered he pretty much blows, too.

Now she's singing her teeny bopper hit "Candy" and she had to use her Blackberry to Google search the lyrics she no longer remembers. That's kind of funny. Where was I?

Oh, yeah - her album sucks. I wish it didn't. I really like her and want to hug her and have anal sex with her if she's into that but be fine with it if she's not; I just want to make Mandy happy. I think I could write a good album for her. I think I will. I'm also barely sort of writing a play that I just realized she would be perfect for! She could even be in my western, too! Someone get me Mandy's number, posthaste! We've got business to do and love to make.

PLANS FOR THE REST OF THE DAY:

* Write a song for Mandy Moore
* Return DVDs to store
* Get Mandy Moore's number
* Watch The Man With the Golden Arm and The Host
* Get drunk alone
* Possibly blog about being drunk alone

God, I'm fucking bored.

The Lost Weekend?

2007-08-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

Tonight I watched Zodiac. I liked it. Robert Downey, Jr. has never been bad in anything. One of the better actors to ever live as far as I'm concerned.

Tomorrow I intend to watch Hot Fuzz (again), The Host, and The Man With the Golden Arm. I doubt that will cover the entire day, though, but I'm sure there will be a good movie on cable after I get those out of the way. I might try to watch five movies tomorrow. That would tie my record.

I saw Superbad today. I actually went to the theater here. That's kind of a big deal for me, although there was no one there so maybe it's not a big deal. I'm still terrified of people. Superbad was really funny but it made me sad and I've kind of been pouting around ever since seeing it. I don't know why I think about that guy who is not Michael Cera. I like him, but I think he over does it a bit. I see myself getting very tired of him in the future. Also, Clark only had one line in this movie! Lame. I guess I just really want a Clark and Michael movie, but Superbad was, indeed, very funny and I will probably buy it when it comes out on dvd and stuff.

I think I will also get drunk because I feel like I need to. Not in a fun way, though, in a wrap your troubles in wine kind of way.

I have some ideas about some stuff I'm going to do. We'll see how that pans out. Anyway, fuck you guys later. I'm ow-tuh.

The Proposition

2007-08-16T21:12:00.000-07:00

Holy moly. I finally saw this movie for the first time and it was excellent. This John Hillcoat fella is the real deal. There were a few scenes I didn't like much camera wise but there were several that were just gorgeous. It's his first film, though, and I can't say what I disliked took much away from the film. It was really good.

Anyway, this movie is two years old now and this news is a few months old, but apparently he will be directing the film version of The Road. While I really don't think the book needs a movie version (unlike No Country For Old Men, which is perfect for a movie), this news has piqued my interest.

And I guess he's doing another Nick Cave film named after a Leonard Cohen song called Death of a Ladies Man about a sex addict. More great news. I'll be waiting for everything this guy does with baited breath.

In other news, I'm lonely and bored and depressed all the time. Wait a second - that's not news! I will be spending the weekend alone hoping and praying that Netflix (I just signed up for Netflix today - again) gets me my movies by at least Saturday. If they don't, I'm fucked. I can't have a tolerable weekend without them.

PIZZA ATTACK!

2007-08-15T12:19:00.002-07:00

I'm being bombarded with images and literature about pizza today! Everywhere I look, pizza. I haven't had non-Lean Cuisine pizza in months and the withdrawl symptoms are hitting hard today.

I don't know...

This is hard. It's early afternoon and I've been thinking about it since 8:00 this morning. Guh... I can't. I can't.

I can't.

Oh, no.

The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter

2007-08-14T22:44:00.000-07:00

It comes out in six days.

It's going to be crazy good. Best album of the year? I don't know, I haven't heard it, but I'm looking forward to it. There have been a lot of good albums out this year, but a few of them are pop punk albums so if you're a fully grown adult you probably don't listen to any of that. I don't blame you. I can't help it, though.

1:31:1, Window Boxed, Yet D.P. Approved...

2007-08-13T07:41:00.000-07:00

Breathless, out in October.

Two discs but no commentary. WTF? No commentary seems to be the new trend these days. I want more commentaries! Are there no film scholars out there willing to talk about the Nouvelle vague film? Meh. Oh, well. It will still be great, I suppose.

You Won't Have Nixon to Kick Around Anymore

2007-08-12T14:03:00.000-07:00

Mitch Clem did a comic of The Mr. T Experience's song "Checkers Speech" and it's really great. I saw this linked on Dr. Frank's blog.

I recommend reading the comic while listening to the song, if possible. Go here to see it:

Here

The U.S. of Disgusting

2007-08-11T23:08:00.001-07:00

Today I was stuck waiting in the drive-thru of a terribly uninteresting but all too new food-in-a-bag shop when a woman who was 70-years-old if she was a day walked over and stood about five feet in front of the sweet PT. She was smoking what appeared to be her one millionth cigarette. A celebration must have been in order, which explained her attire - a one piece backless bathing suit with cotton shorts that were far too short for a 30-year-old, let alone her old bones. Her skin looked as if someone had shaved a Shar-pei, skinned it, fried the skin, and then tanned and aged it with some sort of traditional Native American technique I do not understand. I would guess she weighed an even 100 pounds had she been wearing a fully loaded fanny pack. Her hair made me think of a used coffin shop. She had a vein bulging out of her arm that was actually bigger than her arm. She was a classy broad.

Long story short, this wretched piece of filth came and stood five feet in front of my car, stared at the menu for roughly 30 seconds, and shoved her hand up her ass for at least half that time. Normally I'm pretty sensitive to the plights of the elderly, but this old sack of dried up turds needs to throw on a burka or stay in her goddamn house. I'm fairly repulsive in my own right but I do my best to not flaunt it. I think it's every Americans duty to pretend to not be disgusting. If you can't help it you can't help it, but at least you can try. I don't think that's too much to ask.

Worst Idea Ever

2007-08-10T13:31:00.000-07:00

I think I want a tattoo.

You're saying to yourself, "But you hate tattoos!"

I'm saying to you, I know. That's why this is the worst idea ever. Maybe I'll get over it.

Life Is Hell

2007-08-10T11:31:00.000-07:00

I was recording this new song I wrote and I was having fun and it was what I had planned to do for the next hour but I broke a stupid string and we all know that I don't buy guitar strings because it's annoying. So now I'll never be able to record this song and no one will ever be able to not listen to it like the other songs I recorded this week. My weekend just went from bad to awful. Why can't Superbad be out this weekend? WHHHHHAAAAAA! <--- That is me crying.

Also, poor emotional health leads to gum disease. Fucking great.

UPDATE: Life has gotten slightly better because I got a free Chunklet t-shirt in the mail today! I'm moving on up to purgatory.

Here's Something Stupid I Think About

2007-08-10T09:26:00.000-07:00

When I go to war, who will write me letters? As far as I know, I'm not going to war, but - what if I were? WHAT IF I WERE? I don't know how much Internet access you get in Warville, but I think it's not much. I would want real letters.

I think I've got it figured out who would and who wouldn't, and, well, it's not that pretty. It's better than nothing, though. Problem is, I don't think I would keep getting letters my entire tour. Why? Well, there are several reasons, but I think a lot of it has to do with the relationships I've developed with my friends and family being kind of based on bullshit. I don't really talk about myself all that much, at least nothing particularly personal, so all I ever really say to anyone is "Kobe Bryant", "Dr. Pepper", "30 Rock", "movies are cool", "cable TV is fun", "going outside is hot", "movies are still cool", "I could probably get drunk", and "I saw this thing on the Internet". When I've got my balls on the table overseas, worried about getting them chopped off, all of those topics of conversation seem fairly futile.

It wouldn't be like in the movies. Things never are. Wait, that's not true - when my dad went to war he got letters from my mom that I'm sure were all dramatic and loving and sad and all that junk just like in the movies. Well, it wouldn't be like in the movies for me, at least. I guess that's why I'm not in the military. I thought about signing up a few times, years ago. I'm probably the only person who wanted to join the military for the romance, but I never went through with it, anyway. I still could. It still doesn't sound like a terrible idea. I checked the ARMY boot camp graduation requirements. I can already do more than enough push-ups to graduate. I'm not much of a runner these days, but I can learn. I need a haircut.

That's what I thought about for two and a half hours while trying to fall asleep last night. Guh...

MOVIES!

2007-08-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

There are so many great movies yet to come out this year. All the movies below are linked to their trailers. I'll be lucky to see a few of these in the theater. That's ridiculously depressing...

No Country For Old Men (Coens do Cormac McCarthy. FUCK. YES.)
The Darjeeling Limited (Wes Anderson)
Superbad (Michael Cera + Seth Rogan = awesome)
There Will Be Blood (P.T. Anderson and Daniel Day Lewis)
Rescue Dawn (Werner and Bale and gross bug eating)
The Brothers Solomon (Will Arnett, directed by Bob Odenkirk)
Lars and the New Girl (My future)
3:10 to Yuma (Russell Crowe western, directed by Walk the Line guy)
2 Days in Paris (I LOVE Julie Delpy and this looks funny)
Margot at the Wedding (Noah Baumbach)
This Is England (looks so amazing. Already out, but not around here.)

This and That

2007-08-09T05:46:00.000-07:00

I was giving some pretty serious thought to buying a first edition of The Man With the Golden Arm on Ebay yesterday, but somebody snatched it up. And now, of course, I feel like it was a big mistake not getting it. I'm not sure why, though. The last thing I need is to start pretending to collect first edition/first pressing books. That's expensive like whoa, yo. I really think the "Buy It Now" price on the book I wanted was about 1/5 the value, even without the cover. Meh...

Last night I watched the first episode of "Hard Knocks", which is featuring the Chiefs this season. There was this guy in the locker room (I think he was an unsigned free agent? I didn't catch his name) who did this sort of stripper dance in his body armor onesie and he did this thing with his butt that was insane. It was powerful. I guess you just had to see it. I've seen this move in many hip hop videos, where women with bountiful bottoms flex their cheeks and let them go really fast, creating a sort of ripple effect. I don't know. I don't really get it. That doesn't entice me. If I like your ass I like your ass; you don't need to make it to do tricks to impress me.

You've got seven days and 11 hours to bid on a date with Brett Ratner for charity. Roman Polanski's BFF is going for two grand already. I need to start making a list of questions to ask him in case I magically win this auction, and believe me, it would take some serious Chris Angel shit for me to win.

Mr. Ratner, why does everything about you strike me as utterly disgusting?

What's Chris Tucker really like?

Just how high was Lindsay Lohan when she let you fuck her? Pretty high, right? Like, on a different planet high?

What inspired you more when directing the Jessica Simpson music video for "These Boots are Made For Walkin'" - tits, ass, or money?

Steven Spielberg will burn in a very special part of hell for starting your career. Oh, that's not a question? Sorry.

I should just start a new blog called Brett Ratner Must Die. Hopefully that name is already taken.

This has been a weird week. I've got a whole bunch of nothing to do this weekend so that will be... you know... nothing. Oh, to be young and social.

When I Kiss You All I Taste Is Ringo

2007-08-06T09:24:00.000-07:00

Hilarity.

Why is Eric Clapton famous again? I never really figured that one out...

Questionnaire de Proust

2007-08-05T17:27:00.001-07:00

This is that questionnaire Marcel Proust took when he was 13-years-old. I will probably do the one from when he was 20 sometime later because I will still be bored.

1. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Dead love. Hopeless love. Everything about love, really, except for the good parts.

2. Where would you like to live?
The French Alps. London, England. Galway, Ireland. Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. Eastern Mexico. Lima, Peru.

3. What is your idea of earthly happiness?
Love, excluding the bad parts. Film. Music. Beauty. Knowledge. Touching.

4. To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
Unassertiveness. Insecurities. Sadness. Anxiety.

5. Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?
Rick Blaine in Casablanca, Shane in Shane, Holly Martins in The Third Man.

6. Who are your favorite characters in history?
Abraham Lincoln. Nelson Algren. Ernest Hemingway. Humphrey Bogart. Too many to name.

7. Who are your favorite heroines in real life?
Eleanor Roosevelt. Dorothy Parker. Simone de Beauvoir.

8. Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
I wouldn't exactly call her a heroine, but Celine in Before Sunrise/Before Sunset.

9. Your favorite painter?
Utagawa Hiroshige. Thomas Hart Benton. Vincent Van Gogh. I don't know much about painters.

10. Your favorite musician?
Hank Williams. Bob Dylan. Daniel Johnston. Townes Van Zandt. Dolly Parton.

11. The quality you most admire in a man?
I'm not sure how to describe it, but being a real man. Being confident and strong and not taking any guff and taking care of your family and not taking your problems out on those you love, etc...

12. The quality you most admire in a woman?
Patience.

13. Your favorite virtue?
Empathy.

14. Your favorite occupation?
Being inspired.

15. Who would you have liked to be?
A lot of the people I respect the most lived pretty tough lives... Hmmm... James Stewart?

Turn Out the Lights, the Party's Over

2007-08-04T23:33:00.000-07:00

Friday night I hung out with people. Saturday night I hung out with person. Up past 1:00 a.m. both nights. The fact that people can not only do this every weekend, but do it with alcohol, is beyond me. I think I am officially too old for any of that business. Not. Tough. Enough.

Bekah and I saw La Vie En Rose tonight. While it was not I Know Who Killed Me, Mr. Brooks, or Who's Your Caddy? (all three of my suggestions), it was really good. Edith Piaf's life was slightly harder than mine. Marion Cotillard will be nominated for several awards for this movie and she'll probably win zero of them. She was excellent like whoa, though.

Seeing Bekah made me happy in a way I wasn't expecting, which, naturally, I find fairly depressing as well. I was kind of a shithead all night. If I had to have a casual conversation with myself I would absolutely hate it. Not only do I need to start having conversations with people on a regular basis, I also need change the way I converse on the whole. I'm just not very good at it. I'm a pretty fucked-up person, but I'm getting better. Really, I am, in a weird slow way. I wish I could see Bekah everyday. I think I would learn to be less shitty much quicker if I did.

Tomorrow morning I have a showdown with the scale. I think it will finally show me a number I was expecting to see three weeks ago. Have I gotten over the hump? Even if I finally have, will it last? Does it matter at all? Only in that the future of The Soda Diet is at risk. Dear God, please protect The Soda Diet. I don't think I can diet without it.

Coming Soon: Chinatown 2010, Directed by Brett Ratner

2007-08-04T08:04:00.001-07:00

I got hopped up on coffee last night and talked more than I have in the past two months combined. My throat is sore from all the rambling on I was doing. I knew coffee was a bad idea. Coffee gets me worse than bourbon. I smoked a cigarette, too, which was pretty gross. I wish I hadn't, but it was a good reminder that I do not enjoy smoking anymore. Guh... I had a nice time, though. Marne and Paul are the good guys.

I was just reading an interview with Brett Ratner in The Advocate, and besides all the silly gay talk about fingers up his butt and blowjobs from guys he thought were girls, he drops this shocking bit of knowledge (shocking to me, at least) when asked about Roman Polanski:

Roman Polanski? [He plays a cop that gives Chris and Jackie a body cavity search in Rush Hour 3.]
Legend! I mean, he's my hero. The guy is like…He's a fan of Rush Hour. That's how I got him to be in it. We're friends, but we met because he saw Rush Hour and loved it. Then we became friends. I asked him to be in the movie, and he said, "OK, you'd better write a sequel." I called to tell people, and they said “Roman Polanski is not going to be in this movie.” I said, "Yes, he is," but they didn't get it.

ROMAN POLANSKI has a cameo in Rush Hour 3. What the fuck. I know that Polanski is pretty much a creep-o rapist and all and that might explain why he and Ratner are apparently buddies, but, I mean... He's one of the greatest directors of all-time. I don't even know what to say. It just blows my mind. It's like finding out that Larry the Cable Guy and Anthony Hopkins meet every Tuesday for happy hour at the Redneck Yacht Club.

Dear Kid in the Wal-Mart Parking Lot Making Fun of Me and My Bike:

2007-08-02T19:40:00.000-07:00

I was about an eyelash away from giving you a rim job with your own tongue. You don't know who you mock, kid. I'm going to snap one of these days and your bones will be doing the snapping. It amuses you to see a middle-aged man riding a bicycle through a parking lot at 9 o'clock in the evening, does it? Well, it amuses me to stand under the cloud of evil that stalks my every move, being drenched by showers of your blood. These are games I no longer play. I have a rage inside of me you and your buddies cannot comprehend and your school girl giggling poured an ocean of anger into my bucket of hate. Your refusal to break eye contact with me was a gale upon the dry, inflamed forest that is the violence I was placed on this earth to commit. The only reason your teeth are not permanently embedded in asphalt is a fear of breaking my glasses. Your two rubberneck pals were a genetic vision imperfection away from sucking themselves in wheelchairs for the rest of their lives. The shame I feel for blogging this as opposed to Spray 'N' Wash-ing blood stains out of my clothing right now is nearly as intense as my urge to see you suffer in an unfathomable and eternal way. Your time will come and you will rue the day you mocked me. I will drill antlers in your temples while you're still alive and mount your head in my basement. Your death will be my pride. You will rue the day.

Fuck you, kid.

Today Has Not Been Terrible... Yet

2007-08-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

Today... has been a good day. Unfortunately, I did have to use my AK, but it was this morning and all is better now.

Good Things That Have Happened Today:

- I slept well. That's a rarity.

- My weight on the scale annoyed me, but it's probably a good thing. Despite being on The Soda Diet that I invented, I'm afraid I will have to ban Route 44 root beers from Sonic. Or, at least, cut them down to one a week. I have a very rough and depressing estimate of how many calories such a thing entails, but I've come to a dead end in on the road to Skinnyville and I need to find a new route (44 isn't working). This is depressing, but it will be good in the long run.

- I've exercised a lot today and it wasn't even painful. It was one of those enegry inducing "workouts" that happens less than five times in a lifetime.

- There's new cable here and that means every channel for free for a month! Woo! I didn't even have to download Big Love this week! (That reminds me - Big Love was CRAZY this week! I could talk about it for days but I don't know anyone who watches it. I'm still riding the wave from it's awesomeness.) I have Turner Classic Movies again, too, and Cat On a Hot Tin Roof starts in half an hour! I've never seen it and am excited. I'm watching Pee Wee's Big Adventure until then. Oh, sweet, sweet movies. I love you so.

- Speaking of movies, I get to go see a movie this weekend with a pretty girl! That doesn't happen very often, I can assure you.

I think that's it. It doesn't take much for me to have a good day. I predict it shall not last.

Does anyone who reads this have an account on Goodreads.com? If so, you should tell me so I can add you as my friend.

THERE GOES PEE WEE'S BIKE! LOOK PEE WEE, LOOK!

He missed it. Blast, I've seen better heads on boils! Take a picture, it'll last longer! An American classic. I want kids just so I can make them watch this movie someday.

This was boring. I'm going to go pump some iron.

You Want to See the Best Thing Ever?

2007-07-26T21:12:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'll show you the best thing ever:

Peanuts, by Charles Bukowski

The Darjeeling Limited Trailer

2007-07-26T14:16:00.000-07:00

It sucks that this is such a great year for movies yet I will probably see the fewest new movies I've seen since the early 90s.

The Darjeeling Limited Trailer

Nazi Pop Twins

2007-07-24T10:40:00.001-07:00

Last night I watched a documentary that recently aired in Britain about Prussian Blue. The fact that their mother allowed this documentary to be made is beyond me, but I guess she's just an idiot. She's the one who wants the attention and this was a good way for her to get on camera, I guess. The poor girls, though. It's made perfectly clear in the movie that they've started to realize the entire world hates them and that what they're being taught it wrong. Of course, their mom treats them like shit and calls them cunts when they say anything that's anti-white pride so they don't really have a choice in the matter. The whole family is a fucking mess and grandma, bless her heart, is the only one who seems to realize this. She told the camera crew about the getaway plan for the girls once they turn 18. Well, that probably won't work now. Hopefully they don't kill grandma. Her husband claims to have shot six Mexicans who were trespassing on his property. Mud people, he called them. Yikes...

It was really sad because it's obvious that the girls just want to be normal but they're not allowed that option. Then, at the end, the filmmaker had to get all self-righteous and start calling out the mom in front of the girls forcing the girls to stand up for their mom because she's their mom and they have no friends besides her. It was very reminiscent of that guy who made the Kurt and Courtney movie. It might have been the same guy even, although I kind of doubt it. That guy loved being on camera whereas this guy barely ever was.

Anyway, if you want to see this search Nazi Pop Twins on Youtube. I don't feel like linking it. It's broken into five parts.

The Wildwood Flower

2007-07-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

The song "Traveling Soldier" by The Dixie Chicks makes me weep like a baby. Every time that third verse comes around it's all over. I had not heard this song in quite a while so I listened to it in my dad's car while driving to Sonic for a Route 44 root beer. It made me get all weepy again, but, this time, I noticed something I'd never noticed before! The traveling soldier doesn't die! I don't know why I always assumed he died. I guess because the piccolo player in the marching band was crying under the bleachers. She's just crying because she missed him, though! The line asks for the people at the football game to bow their heads for a list of local Vietnam vets. Believe it or not, this was quite a relief to me. Discovering this improved my shitty Saturday and turned it into something sort of decent.

Anyway, I pulled out the CD case today and read the lyrics. Apparently the people at the football game were asked to bow their head for a list of local Vietnam dead. Fuck.

In other news, my head is killing me.

I finally saw that documentary The Bridge. That's not the type of movie someone like me should be watching. It was about as rough as it gets.

I have two new pairs of jeans. They actually fit. I don't know that I've owned a pair of jeans that fit in ten years, except for the pair I got three months ago that no longer fit. So, that's that. Fittin' jeans!

I'm trying to learn how to play bluegrass guitar proficiently. I've got "Wildwood Flower" down pretty well. It's hard to find the right songs and/or tabs. I'm not good enough to play most of the bluegrass I like listening too. Or, rather, I'm not patient enough to sit down and learn it by ear and I can't find any tabs for it. Yeah.

My plant is still alive. He's looking pretty weird on one side, though. Hmm... Still green, so whatever.

Hey, how about that NBA? The mafia deciding outcomes of games is the most interesting thing to happen to the league in 12 years or so.

I'm sick. Gotta go to bed.

An Amendment to My Diet

2007-07-18T17:09:00.000-07:00

I've decided that, with my before bedtime cup of Earl Grey, I am allowed one to four Lorna Doone cookies.I think four are only 140 calories. I've got room for that! I think.

Also, I always thought he was definitely a top five rapper of all-time, but the more I listen to him the more I think that Nas might be the best ever.

"Yo, I wonder if Langston Hughes and Alex Haley got blazed before they told stories?" I do, too, Nas, I do, too. Regardless, I'm glad you do because your flow be dope.

Speaking of rap and Nas, wanna know why 50 Cent thinks Nas is "not hot right now"? It's because Nas reads too many books!

The Magic Laugh Factory That Never Stops

2007-07-12T20:39:00.000-07:00

Hopefully you've already been watching Clark and Michael. If you haven't been, catch the motherhump up. Episode eight is on FIRE with the hilarity, although they've all been great.

"Mike, I'm gonna stop you, because you have a new lady. And her name is Hollywood. And her legs are spread so wide that there's room enough for both of us."

- Clark

So amazing.

Go Suck Yerself, Annie Leibovitz

2007-07-11T18:09:00.000-07:00

Annie told the Queen to take off her crown for a picture and the Queen told her to get fucked. I LOVE IT.

I hope the BBC releases the video. None of the reports I've seen have shown it.

UPDATE: Turns out the stupid BBC just edited it to make the Queen look like Queen Bitch. Shame on you, BBC.

The New Pope Sure Has Some Big-Ass Balls

2007-07-10T10:46:00.000-07:00

If you're not Catholic, you're going to hell. At least according to Der Fuehrer, Joey Ratzinger.

So, that's good to know.

March of the Gays

2007-07-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

Someone posted an article from The Economist ("Thur's yer sign!") about the supposed acceptance of homosexuality in the midwest on the local newspaper's messageboard. Someone sarcastically said something about a gay pride parade here and I said, if there were one while I live here, I would be happy to be in it. Here are some of the responses I've gotten so far:

From Stewie - Why? .......

From Hillbilly - Isn't sodomy against the law? Has anybody heard the story of "Sodom and Gomora"? If they march, I hope they don't stop, just keep going...... to California.

From Stewie (after my response) - No, not at all. Whatever gets your freak on, alt. boy. So, will you be the one dressed as Cher, or will you be wearing the leather S&M clothing with matching dog collar and chain?

Forget dignity....

Yay Pride!!!

From Rusty Shackleford - You cry foul, claiming you want gay people to have equal rights. Rallies, parades, and marches are organized to support equal rights.

Guess what? We already have equal rights. Homosexuals have the same rights that I have - it’s guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution. What most ‘gay rights advocates’ really want isn’t equality, it’s special privileges. Better-than-equal treatment.

From Curiousfellow - What??? The parade has been cancelled? Rats!

To think, I just finished cutting the rear end out of my favorite pair of leather chaps.

From Just-the-Fact, replying to Rusty asking me if I would walk beside him in a straight pride parade -
He may skip beside ya, but wouldn't look for much more.

I have a feeling this iceberg has only revealed its tip.

Just As I Am

2007-07-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

I've been having a pretty rough go of it. The past seven days have really accentuated my flaws as a human being. My heart is filled with a deep, aching shame. I'm too sad to continue acknowledging how sad I am. I'm completely detached and I haven't figured out what I'm going to do about it. Here are some observations and realizations I've made in the past seven days:

- Just because you're in your late 80s and your husband recently died, it doesn't mean you want to die, too. I suppose I just assumed that as a way to make myself feel better. It's not always the case, though. Hearing that my Grandma promised my Mom she would fight as hard as she could to get better for her and my Aunt makes me feel more dead inside than she is. And she's literally dead.

- I have some serious spiritual issues. I desperately want god in my life but I just do not believe he exists. It's terrible. I needed god this week and there was nothing. All I've been doing is listening to all of my favorite gospel hymns and perusing Bible verses and staring at the walls for a week and I want what the songs promise so badly, but I'm just not catching the fever. Faith is one of the most admirable qualities a person could ever have. I covet it like nothing else in this world.

- My issues with death are a problem. If I had faith they probably wouldn't be, but I don't have any. When my Grandma Bea died four years ago I had the chance to go to Kansas and say goodbye to her. I was already drunk at that point. I got drunk on purpose, so I wouldn't have to go. I'll regret that for the rest of my life. I at least talked about it that time, though. Paul and Brett really came through for me then. When my Grandpa died in March I didn't tell anyone. I stayed in my room for three or four days, crying and drinking. I didn't go to the funeral due to a series of circumstances that all but prevented every last opportunity. I gave up. I could have let my brother-in-law drive four hours out of his way to come get me, but I really didn't want to go because I didn't want to deal with reality. I'll regret that for the rest of my life. I stayed in my room and cried and drank and, by the time I was ready to come out, I had concluded that I was moving out of Columbia as soon as possible. I reacted, drastically. That was something. It was probably a good decision, but that's irrelevant. I did something to react to my Grandpa's death, whether it made sense or not. It was something. Not only could I not bring myself to say goodbye to my Grandma last weekend, (instead I ran out of the nursing home like a child just like I did at my Grandma Bea's funeral), I have no option of denying or drastically reacting. I was there. I could have been with her, but I wasn't. I was too ashamed to face her. I never did a single thing for her and all the while she was never anything short of unwaveringly proud of me. My sister went looking for me after I snuck out and when she found me she said something like, "Dave, I know you don't want to remember Grandma like this but don't you think you need to do the right thing? Grandma might not even know you're there, but it would mean a lot to Mom." My only response was, "I think 'the right thing to do' is pretty subjective." Then, two minutes later, she gave me and my parents the gifts she brought us back from Europe and we talked about them as if they actually fucking mattered. A Hard Rock Cafe Madrid shirt is not something I want to have to accept graciously when my Grandma is dying fifty feet away. I did, though. That's what people do. They deal with death. They accept it and react to it like mature adults. I am, unfortunately, not people. And I do not type that with a hint of superiority, believe me.

- Making yourself even remotely vulnerable on the Internet is always a mistake. I realize the irony since I'm posting this on the Internet, but I've mostly given up, so worrying about what I post on the Internet after the fact seems silly. Anyway, I get called out by a total stranger on Myspace because of a bulletin I wrote that had nothing to do with him, I respond at 3:00 in the morning, sleep deprived and upset, telling him my Grandma died today, I'm loaning my phone to a family member, so go play songs with your band I know nothing about, leave me the fuck alone, etc... and the next morning an entire messageboard is discussing how fucked up I am while randomly mocking my dead Grandma. I know nothing about this guy but he was apparently on a mission to fuck with me. A complete stranger. I'm not sure what it is about me that makes strangers hate me, but it's been pretty common for as long as I can remember. I tend to think that people who get to know me a little usually like me. Maybe I'm being presumptuous, but that's the way I see things. Strangers certainly have a way of hating my fucking guts, though. People wonder why I'm not very social, why I try to avoid meeting new people. If you want to know why I also try to avoid going out in public, it's because things like this happen... (go to next dash)

- I went to Springfield today. It was kind of like being the offspring of a piece of unpainted furniture and a pizza buffet, trying to maneuver blindly through an orgy of strip malls, crawling inch by inch across the blacktop of an endless used car lot while getting just the worst reception on my Bluetooth ear piece. So, I was having a good time, right? I had just walked into Border's to look for a specific book about Abraham Lincoln when I heard my name being called by the only person to ever delete me as their Myspace friend. He is supposed to not want to talk to me because I possibly had something to do with he and his longtime girlfriend breaking up. I don't know if I really had anything to do with it or not. I've always fancied myself the patsy in all that, but I didn't really give that much of a shit then and I certainly don't now. Regardless, he killed me with kindness today which was a nice play. I think he's just kind of a nice guy usually so that's how he is, though. I could have done without the awkwardness, but it was fairly painless. I'm sure he and his coworker found it pretty amusing and I eventually found my book, so everything turned out okay except for the fact that the book was six dollars more than I was willing to pay for it. This is just another perfect example of why I prefer not going out in public these days. It's fairly petty considering the other things I've mentioned, but... well, one of these days I'll be dead and I will have either died a petty person or a person who was not petty. I will not be alive to care either way.

- I've been ignoring people who have not been discussing how fucked up I am on Internet messageboards and people who haven't written me off (yet) with extreme consistency. I don't know why. I just don't feel like I have anything to say. My life revolves around push ups, Nelson Algren, and Earl Grey tea. Sometimes I mow the lawn. It's all I've got. There's nothing else to share. I don't know when I'm coming to Columbia, when I'm moving to Chicago, or when I'm going to finally get a job. Hopefully at some point this year for all three of them. I'm sure I'll start talking to people again fairly soon. I almost answered a phone call from someone on my way back from Springfield tonight, but I had been thinking about her at the very time she called so I got scared. It was pretty close, though. I bet I start answering in a few more days. Sorry if you're pissed at me. If I drop off the grid it's not your loss, it's mine. I'm not ignoring anyone just to be a dick. I can't help it. The only reason I'm writing any of this is in hopes of people not forgetting I exist.

- I have a fern now. Well, okay, it's not a fern, it's a Norfolk Pine, but it's kind of like a fern. It's prettier than a fern. I've named him Abraham Lincoln. I hope to take some pictures with him soon. He's going to make me feel better, assuming I don't unknowingly kill him. That will make me feel even worse.

Please Don't Call Or Text Me This Week

2007-07-02T00:08:00.000-07:00

Please don't call or text me this week. If you have to call or text, save it for July 9th or later. Thanks, nowiwannabeyourblog reading persons.

Getting Virgin Sue to Sack

2007-06-22T19:42:00.000-07:00

If you're reading this and you're not either Julia or Crystal, then you're probably on Facebook, my least favorite social networking website. Yeah, I even like Friendster more than Facebook, not that I ever figured out how to use Frienster. Anyway, Facebook gets an RSS feed of my blog now so lots of my trite thoughts and ideas will even more readily available to you. These writings more than likely reveal me as the vain, lonesome ignoramus I truly am. Welcome to Now I Wanna Be Your Blog!

This typical Friday evening finds me sitting on a bed, typing on a computer, listening to Sex For Teens (Where It's At). It's sad that I'm listening to this for a laugh, yet I've kind of become drawn in by the soothing voices and gentle explanations from their Dr. Dad. It started out pretty angry; 18-year-old Bill was bitching out his 16-year-old "whore" of a sister Sue for getting all hung up on her dirty-haired boyfriend when all said boyfriend wants to is hustle Sue into bed. This guy doesn't know where it's at; he doesn't even want to be part of society. And all Sue cares about is that he's cute. Anyway, by the end of side A she's decided to dump him while Bill is telling his dad about how he gets a hard-on every time he sees a piece. It's okay, Bill, I do too. I do too. Oh, and since this was recorded in 1969, there's even a part where they predict that there will not be enough oxygen for us to continue living in 1999. Perhaps Stanley Z. Daniels, M.D. knew more about Y2K in 1969 than we could even understand to this day. Here's to breathin'!

So, basically, I'm bored. Earlier I watched Down By Law for the first time. It made me realize that Jim Jarmusch's more recent movies are worse than I thought. I liked it a lot but it's not really a movie I think I'll have much of an urge to watch repeatedly.

Did you know that sperm can fertilize an egg 48 hours after intercourse? Should I have known that? I suppose these things aren't relevant for guys like me and Warren (pictured below).

If you can tell me what movie Warren is in you are awesome.

Movies in my near future:

Open City, my first foray into Roberto Rossellini films. I should have seen this years ago but I just haven't. I really don't know much about Italian film short of Fellini, Antonioni, and De Sica, which is pretty lame for someone who fancies himself some sort of movie guy. I guess I fancy myself that that. I should probably fancy myself something.

The General, my first foray into Buster Keaton movies. I think. This I have seen clips of my entire life but never realized what it was. AFI ranked it in the top 30 American movies of all-time two nights ago, despite not having it in the top 100 ten years ago. Don't even get me started on that fucking list. Fargo getting bumped out of the top 100 is enough to make me consider the list irrelevant. Anyway, I was going to rent The General but I realized it might be in the public domain, which it turned out to be, so I'm going to watch it online when I finish writing this, and then to bed. Oh, exciting Friday.

The Bridge, a documentary I don't feel like writing about right now. I can't wait to see it, though. It's looks unbelievable. I will see it as soon as I send back Shut Up and Sing, the Dixie Chicks' documentary I watched two days ago that was really good. I love those girls. It made me cry. I am pathetic.

Finally, my new pretend girlfriend is Kristen Schaal.

I feel in love with her last night, this morning I was thinking she is a tiny bit goofy looking, but in a GOOD way, and now I just think she's hot and I want to love her forever. So, sorry girls - I'm taken once again.

Woo blog!

Motherfuck It Motherfuckers

2007-06-20T11:40:00.000-07:00

I've been a bit distant lately. More than usual. I spend too much time on the Internet, but I currently have nothing better to do. I haven't charged my cell phone in over a week. It seems pretty worthless. I talked to the checkout girl at the grocery store for a few seconds and it was the best conversation I've had out loud with anyone in weeks. I wanted to tell her I liked her hair but I think that would have been creepy. She was probably in high school. Her hair was cute, though.

All I do is tell everyone how stupid they are on these local news messageboards and then they write back things that are even more stupid and no matter how much I might amuse myself by kicking these morons in their internet ballz it's really not very gratifying. I hope I get a job soon. I should consider trying really hard to get one instead of just giving it a shot here and there. I would love to see a video of myself during one of these stupid interviews I've done. I bet I look like I'm sitting in an electric chair.

Oh, well. Motherfuck it motherfuckers.

Next on the Agenda: Peeping

2007-06-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

Do you ever catch yourself starring at girls that are barely even moderately attractive for way too long? If you're reading this you're probably Julia, so my guess is no. I do this, though, to completely strangers. I wait until they look at me before I look away (which is really disturbing, but I at least look away quickly, ashamed of myself). I did it to some girl at a gas station as I drove passed and realized what I had done. Darn my eyes! I'm a creep. I was just thinking, "Look, there's a girl!" so I looked at her. Baby steps towards a prison term! That will be pleasant.

Blogging is Where I'm a Viking

2007-06-11T10:19:00.000-07:00

Hello blog. I haven't posted on you lately because I was disappointed in your statistics. No one reads you. I've concluded that this is probably a good thing, though, so I'm over it. I don't write about anything interesting here, anyway. Here's what I've been up to:

Not much. The entire weekend was spent uploading cds to iTunes. Basically non-stop. I'm maybe 20% done. I've got four days worth of music to listen to now, at least. I'm being a real freak about organizing it, too. Cover artwork for everything. All words in song titles are capitalized (This is hard for me to do but I was having a hard time with what should and shouldn't be capitalized. I know the general rules but these things are fairly subjective and I decided it was just easier to capitalize all words unless it's specifically different on the back of the album [Who says I don't write about interesting things?].) All cds must have the original release date year. And don't get me started on the genres. I began with the notion that I wouldn't use any customized genre names and would only use what iTunes has available. Well, that last for a while but then I went back and changed 20 some albums because it was driving me nuts. I embrace the term "alternative" but I wonder if I have a different view of what all it entails than most. For example, I would mark Daydream Nation as alternative. Same with You're Living All Over Me. Same with Nevermind, Siamese Dream, and American Thighs. But I would mark Bee Thousand as indie. Does anyone think that's weird? I think it's pretty fair. I'm trying to stay general with it. What about a band like The Handsome Family? I gave in and put them as alt country, but I really don't know what the hell they are. Is Jawbreaker punk? Yes, but that almost seems too general.

There has been a great debate started on a messageboard I frequent regarding Ralph Wiggum. Someone tells him to go to sleep and he responds, "Oh, boy, sleep! That's where I'm a viking!" I understood it in the less popular way and everyone is acting like myself and a few other highly intelligent folk are in-fucking-sane for understanding it in anything other than the most literal way possible. The literal way isn't funny, though. Anyway, apparently metafliter has picked up on it and I even heard that it was mentioned on "The Best Show on WFMU" (I have not listened to the most recent episode yet). We're hoping that The Onion's AV Club will settle the debate by contacting the writer or something, but who knows. I found it funny the way I originally understood the joke and I find it unfunny to think that he is just dreaming of being a viking. I've concluded that I don't really care what the intention way anymore because I found it funny one way and I'm sticking to it. I think your understanding of the joke says a lot about a person's personality type.

That movie review I wrote for the paper two weeks ago? They ran it this week. How silly. Apparently my former high school teacher asked the editor guy about it and he claimed that he never received it. I think my former teacher strong-armed him. She's got pull in this 'berg. He then e-mailed me saying such so I sent it to him again and he wrote back something about coming down and getting my picture taken which I completely ignored. Anyway, they ran the review. The editing wasn't so hot, but it was only two things and since I only sent in the review because I was told that if I'm going to complain about the quality of the entertainment section I should write something for it myself (this was told to me by the editor, mind you), I didn't really care very much. Anyway, I thought that was funny. And kind of stupid. At least I didn't have my ugly mug next to it, only my pretty name.

I know no one reads this, but if you come across it I would like your opinions on my iTunes genres and your understanding of what Ralph Wiggum means when he says, "Oh, boy, sleep! That's where I'm a viking!"

Criterion is Putting Out Breathless!!!

2007-06-02T22:22:00.001-07:00

I didn't get it at first. The May newsletter has this picture:

That's obviously a reference to Breathless, but I didn't realize they put picture hints for upcoming released at the bottom of the newsletters. I'm totally dense. Anyway, I was just looking at the Criterion Forum linked on my sidebar over there and they say that Breathless has been cofirmed and is expected out this year. Fuck yes. They'll probably pan and scan it like they've been doing with everything lately, but it will still be far superior to the current release.

Today has been a Criterion day. I ordered two which is something I'm usually far too poor to do. I still am, really, but them shitz was so cheap! I got the new two-disc The Third Man and Une Femme est une Femme for 40 dollars on the nose. I paid 40 dollars for the original Criterion The Third Man I have. And I've wanted Une Femme est une Femme pretty badly for a while now. I'm thinking about buying another. These Criterion sales are once, maybe twice a year, and they're one of the few things in the world that makes me happy. Unless the movies are shitty, that is.

So I'm going to have two copies of The Third Man and two copies of Seven Samurai. That's dumb.

Wooo, Party Cove and Shit!

2007-05-30T13:42:00.000-07:00

I've gained three pounds since going to the lake. That was a bit harsh. It's okay, though, because that was probably the last bit of socializing I will do for several months.

Somehow we both choked down well over a fifth of bourbon and several beers. I thought we were too old for that, but apparently not. We talked about the most powerful militaries in the world, country music videos, girls (particularly Catholic ones), and the eternal nothingness that is death. It was pretty standard. We rode around on a very large boat, too, and Heather managed to put up with me fairly well.

It wasn't anything particularly special, but it was fun, and, sadly, I think it was probably the most fun I will have for a very long time. I wish I were moving to Alaska. It would be a waste of time, though.

June 5

2007-05-27T20:47:00.000-07:00

On June 5 Cormac McCarthy is supposed to be on Oprah. His first television interview ever. It's going to be awesome. I'm posting this in hopes of not forgetting about it.

Tomorrow my sister leaves for Paris to travel across Europe for a few weeks. Tomorrow I go to Lake of the Ozarks to get drunk with a friend and ride around in his boat and talk about how depressing all the people who look like they're having fun are. In your face, sister.

Oh, Happy Day

2007-05-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

Five clips from No Country For Old Men straight from Cannes! Holy awesome.

See Ya in the Funny Papers

2007-05-26T12:19:00.000-07:00

So, I called out the local paper's entertainment section a week or two ago on the paper's messageboard. The guy who writes for the paper that I basically called an idiot responded by saying if I don't like what I see, submit my own review of a new movie in the theater, new movie on dvd, new album or new book. The guy even put a box in the bottom of last Sunday's paper asking for submissions, as inspired by my complaints. So as to not be all talk, and since it was suggested by someone who works for the paper, I submitted a review. I rented a movie that came out on Tuesday and submitted it that evening, three days before the time they claimed they needed it. Anyway, the didn't run it. They never e-mailed me about it or anything. I'm not really put off by the fact that they didn't run it, but am I curious as to why they didn't. I suppose it's a good thing I don't want to be a newspaper man.

Here's the review I wrote of The Good German, a movie I wouldn't have watched were I not writing a review for it, finally published in a far more credible news source - my blog.

Steven Soderbergh is an enigma. His films span the spectrum, from the uncomfortably deviant Sex, Lies and Videotape, to the harsh drug realities of Traffic, to popcorn pleasers like the Ocean’s trilogy. He’s made a highly underrated adaptation (Out of Sight), at least one terrible remake (Solaris), and the barely noticed Bubble, despite it being the only film simultaneously released in the theater, on DVD, and on cable. In The Good German, released on DVD last Tuesday, he enters the black and white world of film noir, offering a story with plenty of twists and turns, but borrowing from the great directors of the genre a bit more than necessary.

The film, set in post-war Berlin, stars George Clooney as an American military journalist investigating the murder of his driver (Tobey McGuire) who happened to be involved with Clooney’s former German mistress (Cate Blanchett), not to mention the Russian military. The investigation follows a trail of lies ultimately revealing an unwanted truth in a final scene blatantly reminiscent of the incomparable Casablanca.

Soderbergh went out of his way to capture the filmmaking techniques of the era. He refused to use modern cameras and wireless microphones, and the stock footage he recreated looks as if it were original (and in some cases may be). The references to the works of Michael Curtiz, John Huston, and especially Carol Reed are so obvious that one wonders what, if any, original thought Soderbergh put into the making of this film. The Good German is far more than just homage; it’s completely derivative of several films made over 50 years ago.

What motivates a director to do something like this? Is it the Hollywood equivalent of the Average Joe going to fantasy baseball camp or is it an attempt to remind audiences of the many wonderful films of the past? One can’t help but recall Gus Van Sant’s embarrassing shot-for-shot remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho when philosophizing over the merits of stealin - er, paying homage, to the great directors of the past.

Soderbergh’s heart was more than likely in the right place, but his casting and lack of creativity soak this film in less than spectacular waters. Hollywood staples like Clooney and McGuire just don’t play in this type of blast from the past. Thankfully, Blanchett was there to save many of their scenes, reminding us yet again that she is one of the greatest actors working.

The Good German doesn’t come off great. It is what its title claims it to be - good. There is more than enough intrigue to keep viewers interested, but its lack of imagination is what makes the film seem nothing but a parody of, instead of a tribute to, past classics. The ingenuity of a memorable Hollywood past is exactly what is lacking in this film, making The Good German little more than forgettable today.

Coincidentally, also released on DVD this past Tuesday, The Criterion Collection’s new edition of The Third Man, Carol Reed’s masterpiece referenced in The Good German far too many times to count. The double-disc set features a new high-definition transfer and several special features, including a documentary about the making of the classic, a radio episode of “The Lives of Harry Lime” written and preformed by Orson Welles, and an audio commentary done by none other than one Steven Soderbergh.

It was properly punctuated before I italicized it all. I'm bored. I wish I had something to do today.

A Special Treat for my Readers or Getting to Know Me, Getting to Know Me

2007-05-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

I cleaned out a big box today. It was mainly cds but it also had my personality profile from my high school psychology class. Everyday at the beginning of class we had to do an assignment for the personality profile. Usually you would just write a bunch of crap down as quickly as possible to get it over with. I've scanned one of the papers I wrote and posted it below. I was probably fifteen at the time I wrote this. I will transcribe it, errors and all.

Personality Analysis

If I were a psychologist or a psychiatrist I would hate to have myself as a patient. I'm sure that a typical psychologist or psychiatrist would look at me the same as any other patient, but in my own mind I feel as messed up as the best of them. I think that Carl Rogers would have been a great person explain things to me, but Freud would have been the best man for the job.

I find that Carl Rogers humanistic theory that primarily says, "everyone can be their real self," would be a great motivational tool for me. I need a good reason to believe in myself so I can reach my full potential in life. If I were able to believe in this theory for a few weeks, I believe it would begin to make a significant difference in my life, for the better, of course.

Freud's ideas seem easier for me to relate to, though. The idea of having something to blame your problems on seems great to me. His ideas seem to be the ultimate cop out since it's your life being talked about. Whether or not psychoanalytical theory would work with me, I'm not sure of. I'm not good with talking about my problems and I get upset very easily. But, if Freud were alive today and still a respected therapist, I would be more than willing to give it a try.

There are many different psychological theories and terms that could be used to describe me. I am excellent at using defense mechanisms. My personal favorites are procrastination, rationalization, and reaction formation. Unfortunately, I am not a very self-actualized human and never will be. I have kantian ethics believing that life is all anyone will ever have. I am a very bad auditory learner, but a very good kinesthetic and visual learner. I would suspect that I have an average I.Q. and a very low E.Q.

All in all, I'm somewhat sure that even with all of the psychological problems mentioned I will probably still be able to make it on my own in the real world. As for whether or not any of my problems will ever be solved, only time will tell. I'm doubting it, though. Hopefully, someday I will be living a happy life and I will be able to look back and say, "Boy, I was a weird kid."

I wrote that ten years ago. Not a fucking thing has changed. Well, I guess I don't write papers anymore and I don't have to use terms used in class in those papers I don't write, but I think and feel the same way now. Also, this was by far the most uplifting and optimistic thing written in my personality profile, I assure you. If you found this as interesting/depressing as I did, I might put some of the more pathetic writings up another time.

When Our Grown Kids Disappoint Us

2007-05-20T19:36:00.001-07:00

I found this book hidden on top of a dresser earlier this week:

I didn't know what to make of it. I've read about a quarter of it so far and it's really boring. I'm far past where whichever one of my parents had it bookmarked (I'd bet the farm my dad was the one reading it) so I don't know if they gave up or read it and randomly placed a bookmark in there or what. It's a bunch of baby boomer shit about how great their generation is and how fucked their kid's generation is. There's also a lot about kids who get pregnant or get someone pregnant and are too fucked up on drugs to take care of the kid so they give that kid to their parents and then they steal their TV to buy more drugs. My parent's can totally relate to that.

I get that I'm not all that great. I can see that it would be embarrassing having their old kid living with them for the summer. It all makes sense. I'm not going to make any excuses for myself, even though, I naturally, have plenty. Do they have to read a fucking book about it, though? I mean, really... The book even talks about how to not hate your mentally ill children. What if I'm mentally ill? My uncle is mentally ill. Is it my fault if I am? Is it acceptable for a parent to hate their kid because he or she is mentally ill? I'm not mentally ill, though, at least not like my uncle, so I guess it's irrelevant. Finding that book did hurt my feelings a bit, but I felt a little bit better after reading some of it. It's just another not-so-subtle reminder to avoid hesitating in my efforts to move to Chicago. Also, there seems to be a Godard film festival at the Gene Siskel Film Center in November that I need to be at. Speaking of Godard...

I've seen a lot of movies in the past week. Another Netflix free trial has been treating me well. Since last weekend I've watched It's a Gift, My Little Chickadee (both W.C. Fields and both pretty funny), F for Fake (which is totally amazing) and a documentary about Welles' unfinished films called Orson Welles: One-Man Band and another documentary about Elmyr de Hory called Almost True: The Noble Art of Forgery (Elmyr de Hory is kind of the most interesting guy ever), The Apartment, Laurence Oliver's Hamlet, Shane (which I own and have seen ten times, but who doesn't want to watch it again? "Pa's got things for you to do. And mother wants you, I know she does!"), and Bob le Flambeur and Masculin feminin both twice. Bob le Flambeur was my first Melville and now I want to see everything he's ever done. Masculin feminin (as I said, speaking of Godard) was not really what I expected but it should have been. I liked it more than Bande à part and Le Mépris but it's got nothing on Breathless and Une femme est une femme. I still haven't seen Alphaville because I'm convinced I will not like it, but I will see it soon enough. Also, I don't know what my deal is with Bande à part. I should love it, but I don't. It deserves a second viewing.

So, in Masculin feminin, Chantal Goya, pictured right, is ridiculously cute with this weird kind of underbite smile she's got (she also has someone sort of zit or something on her nose, but I don't mind) and all. Apparently she was a pop star in real life at the time, kind of like what she played in the movie. I guess she played herself in the movie actually. Anyway, what I'm getting at is I've discovered Yé-yé girls and I love them all. It's like teenage girls singing Their Satanic Majesties Request, but sometimes more poppier and other times more fucked-up. Best genre of music ever.

In other French news, I'm going to once again learn how to speak French. My sister's students are getting new books in the fall so I'm getting a text book and a work book to learn with. This will be my fifth attempt at learning to speak French. I'm actually kind of interested this time, though, so we'll see how it goes.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention what a creep I am. I'm in love with all these French girls from the 50s and 60s now. I've been this way for a while now. It's my thing that I do. And there's this ridiculously hot girl in Bob le Flambeur who is always taking her pants off and her top off and everything else off because that's what often happens in French films. So, I think she's really hot and all. Nothing filthy or anything, but she was a babe and I found her naked areas to be attractive. After the film, I watched an interview with a co-star on the special features and he pointed out that this girl was all of FIFTEEN when the movie was filmed. Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh... Whoops. I feel like a creep, but what are you going to do? In my defense, her IMDB birthdate indicates that she was 26 at the time the film was released and the movie (only) took two years to film, so, according to IMDB at least, my feelings for this gir -, er, woman, are very legal and acceptable. I wonder what the truth is, though. Hmm...

I drink green tea now. Or try to. I only drink it hot. I don't want to try it cold. This is new for me. I'm going to try and drink at least one cup a day this week. Force myself to love it. I've got to stop drinking soda. I've lost nine and a half pounds while still drinking soda but this half a pound is killing me. And once I lose ten pounds I'm going to want to lose twenty, right? While I probably won't manage such, I'm going to slowly try to continue losing weight and see what happens. I'm going to have to try and get a girlfriend when I move because I'm a total fucking loser if I don't, so I need to work now on not being ugly. My push ups are going well. I've definitely noticed a difference in my arms and chest. I'm doing sets of thirty now pretty easily. My sit ups are less impressive, but I'm ready to start working harder at that (no I'm not). And the bike riding is helping, too. Riding a bicycle two miles to try the 99 cent buffalo chicken sandwich at Wendy's (they're not good) has to be healthier than driving, right? I'm almost done with fast food in general. There's so little of it I can stand anymore, and here there aren't any fast food places like Chipotle or whatever that are actually kind of good. It's all shit here.

Hey, how about I talk about my boring life some more? What's that? You stopped reading several minutes ago? I don't blame you.

UPDATE: I also watched The Corndog Man again this week. That movie is so great. In terms of independent film (what it should be, not so much what it is), it's one of the best movies I've ever seen. One day I will make a movie in a similar fashion and it will be awesome and a failure and I will go bankrupt.

Delta Farce

2007-05-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

I guess I kind of perturbed a writer for the local paper by saying the entertainment section sucks. I felt kind of bad for sort of insulting him, but, you know... such is life. He has encouraged me to submit my own reviews of movies or whatever to the paper, something I figure I might as well try since I have nothing else to do.

I cracked wise last week about how there might be a Delta Farce review in this Sunday's paper since something told me the movie was definitely coming to town. I had forgotten that I said if it were not reviewed in the Sunday paper that I would review it myself and post it on that messageboard. Anyway, I just wrote one. I didn't proofread it or anything, but I offer it on this blog only because I find the messageboard's editing so amusing.

DELTA FARCE

Delta Farce, a racist romp in the wrong desert, starring Larry the Cable Guy and some even less funny rube riding his coat tails, is just the kick in the pants you need to fully understand that our society has reversed the evolution process. Darwin be ***ned - farts, misogyny, and homophobia are funny and, if Larry and that other guy have anything to say about it, they're going to stay that way.

True patriots, Larry and what's-his-name join the Army to go to Iraq (something they strangely have not decided to do in real life) and serve their country. Crazy hijinks insue and - huh-duh-wha - they wind up in Mexico! Considering that they are stupid, it takes them half of the movie to figure this out. Once they do conclude that Mexico is not, in fact, Iraq, they eat tacos, make illegal immigration jokes that they probably don't even really understand, they ogle women, they light their farts on fire, and they say, "Get her done" an awful lot. Some sort of conflict eventually comes along and Larry and that really old guy who's not funny use their limited Army training and a little bit of the ol' elbow grease and wind up saving our country from certain distaster. Or maybe they save Mexico from certain disaster. I don't know, I've never seen the movie.

Delta Farce is a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later aberration. That in this day an age a movie so incredibly terrible based on such weak plot devices starring such ridiculously untalented performers is proof positive that the apocolypse is upon us. Two out of five farts.

They won't even let me write "damned".

Note to the Cashiers I Have Purchased Items From Recently

2007-05-13T12:17:00.000-07:00

You're not funny. Maybe the reason the line at the grocery store is so long at 9:00 p.m. on a Friday night is because you, motherchecker, are trying out your comedy routine on every customer. I get it, you're pretending to talk on a walkie talkie. You don't have to keep doing it. You don't have to keep pinching your nose for effect. You do, however, have to scan the rest of this woman's items so she can pay you so I can buy a cheap bottle of wine that you're not old enough to sell to me, anyway. And to the girl at the gas station who just sold me a two liter of Dr. Pepper for $2.06 - saying I owe you $99.99 isn't funny; it's not even that far from the fucking truth. I'm paying you over two dollars for something that should cost one dollar because I have too much anxiety to go into a normal store in the middle of the day like a normal person. I'm not in the mood to laugh. If you had said, "$99.99 - just kidding! Listen, I'm not supposed to do this, but two dollars is a rip off. I'll sell you this Dr. Pepper for a dollar," then I would have said, "Hey, you're a nice lady. And funny! I like you and your Ms. Piggy with angel wings tattoo, too! Thanks!"

I'm going to eat a frozen pizza off of a paper plate and watch Laurence Oliver's Hamlet now. I'm all class.

Droppin' Science on Yo' Shitty Enter-LAME-ment Section!

2007-05-08T09:25:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream about this girl I used to know. She was engaged in the dream, which was news to me. I found out because this guy started Myspace messaging me about it, telling me he was engaged to her. This fucking guy was laaaaaaame. He looked like Marcos Bagdhatis without any of the sexy foreign guy stuff. He was just a regular, crusty white dude. He wore a pancho. He never shaved. Thanks to this dream, I vow to never go more than two days without shaving again unless I'm growing recreational facial hair, such as a beard. He had a tiny pony tail, but his hair still hung down, so it looked like a hair dick. God, I hated this fucking guy. And I learned everything there was to know about him through Myspace. In my dream. Isn't that kind of weird? I think so.

Anyway, the engagement got called off (I never figured out by whom) and the guy wanted me to console him and shit. I didn't, though, because I hated him. What a stupid dream. Guuuuuh. I hope I never dream again.

I'm learning how to play Bach's "Prelude #1 in C" on piano. I started with guitar tab trying to play it on guitar but came across a terrible chord formation that just isn't happening anytime soon. So, I'm trying to siight read guitar tab and play it on piano and it's actually kind of working. It's been much easier on my keyboard that on guitar, at least through the first twelve bars. I've gathered that it's a piece Bach wrote for his students to practice on, though, so I guess I'm not that fancy.

Speaking of not playing guitar, I desperately want to own this guitar. It's a 1985 Guild D-25. Left handed, obviously, for those of you not clicking the link. Hasn't had a single bet on it yet. Something tells me it will get some. For $400 I tend to think it's a pretty good deal. My acoustic has been in a bad way for a while. I don't have a new acoustic, though, because I'm only willing to upgrade to a Martin, Gibson, or Guild. If I got this Guild (which I'm not going to) I would still want one of those Martin parlor guitars. 00-28s or whatever they're called. This is boring.

I dropped some science on the local paper's messageboard about the embarrassing "entertainment section" they have going on. This is what I do with my life now. Holy crap.

It Ain't Braggin' Muthafucka If You Back It Up

2007-05-07T20:04:00.000-07:00

I'm getting pretty cocky on my bike these days. Cruising around at high speeds with no hands like I'm back in my bike riding prime. Taking turns pretty quickly. Working on my balance, hitting curbs, going off-road a little bit...

I predict a painful bicycle wreck in my very near future.

You Won't Hear Me Say This Often

2007-05-06T21:03:00.000-07:00

The weather being nice had a pleasant effect on me. I was surprised. I never seem to notice when the weather is particularly nice, and even when I do, I never noticeably feel a hop in my step about it. I did today, though. Weird.

Marie Antoinette. I finished it today at my own leisure. I must admit, it was not particularly good. I still think Sophia Coppola is a good director, though. There were some really beautiful scenes, but it's probably pretty hard to fuck up anything when shooting at Versailles, epsecially when you've taken Barry Lyndon 101 as I'm certain Sophia had. It was kind of a ballsy movie, though. A lot of unique decisions were made for it (several of which I hated - particularly the American accents Marie and Louis had) and the modern-ish music, shockingly, didn't bother me at all. I was wholly convinced it would, but it didn't. Anyway, the $1.06 it cost to rent the thing was worth it when I saw the special feature MTV Cribs with Louis XVI. It was very funny. Not on Youtube, though.

When I went to return the movie today I passed a girl riding a pink bicycle in the road. She was probably ten or eleven. When I passed she gave me a Sammy Sosa-esque kiss-your-two-fingers- twice-and-then-give-a-peace-sign and cruised on by like she'd done it a million times to her adoring fans. It was cute.

Later, on the same drive, I pulled up behind what appeared to be a 1986 cobalt blue Ford Mustang that had LESBIANS ROCK written in soap or something on the back window. When I passed this car the two guys inside looked like the type of people who would write that on their own car. I imagined them watching two butches going bush to bush on each other in some real lesbian porn and quickly going outside to wash their back window. Then I imagined them as genuine fans of lesbians, particularly of the butch persuasion, and watching a movie like Wild Things and complaining throughout the girl-on-girl makeout scenes. "These girl ain't real dykes!"

By the time I finished imagining the two rednecks in the Mustang watching porn, I had arrived at my destination to return the movie. Walking out of the sliding glass doors was a guy wearing a t-shirt that said THIS IS THE SHIRT I WEAR WHEN I DON'T CARE.

Today was a good day.

This Post is Zsa Zsa GaBORING

2007-05-05T23:13:00.000-07:00

I'm tired from a long day of being completely bored out of my fucking mind.

I got up at 9:00 and listened to music and paced around wondering what to do until 2:00. Then I got up the nerve to go to the grocery store and bought some stuff to make tacos. I rented Marie Antoinette while out, knowing full well that it would be terrible, but I wanted to see Versailles. I came home, made tacos for me and the dog (I much prefer actually making him meals that opening the cans of dog food my parents buy for him. I gagged at least ten times the last time I opened one of those cans) and ate them them while watching as much of Marie Antionette as I could handle (about 45 minutes worth). Then I lost the dog and looked around for him for a while. Then I started getting really bored and just kept walking around the house, wondering what to do. I sat in front of the computer for a very long time doing nothing. From about 7:00-10:00 looking at the same websites over and over and over. Then I ordered Casino Royale on pay-per-view and it was 95% really enjoyable. Now it's 1:30 in the morning and I'm tired-bored. I've got girl things bothering me. And anxiety things. I noticed that I still hate this town but I like this house. The backyard is very entertaining. You can sit on the deck and it's like Bambi with all the forest critters running around. It's a shame I'm not the type of person who enjoys picking rabbits off with a bb gun because I could have done that all day today.

Tomorrow I fear I will be so bored that I will give the dog a bath and mow the lawn without even being asked to. I should have just read all day, but that's what I do when my parents are here. I figured I'd party hard and not read while they're away. What a waste.

I Wanna Meet the Queen!

2007-05-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

The Queen is going to be at the Kentucky Derby and I want to meet her! I'm not going to the Derby, though. From all the stories Eric has told me about attending this event, it sounds like it's right up the Queen's alley. And mine! I wish I were going. I would wear the most glorious hat.

My sister was into Princess Di pretty hard. Through that association, I knew way more about the Royal Family than a young boy probably should have. I was pretty sad when she died. I can see why the family hated her, but it was all Charles' fault. Chuck is like a permanent, walking and talking version of Hugh Grant's mug shot. That probably makes no sense to you, but it makes sense to me! Like you care, anyway!

I did just see The Queen last weekend. It was all it was cracked up to be. I liked it very much so. I am certain I would have enjoyed it just as much without Scharpling's stamp of approval, but I probably wouldn't have as much of an urge to meet her without such. Seriously, though. Who do you really want to meet? Most of the people I would want to meet are dead. Martin Scorsese, I guess. He's alive. I'd like to meet... um... I'd like to meet George Jones for some reason. Willie Nelson, sorta, but I don't want to feel like I've got to smoke pot with him, even though I most certainly would. I just realized there are a lot of pot smokers who read this blog. What does that say about me? If I smoked pot, would this blog would still be worth reading? I guess that's a trick question since it's not worth reading now.

Anyway, why not meet the Queen? She's sure as shit better than the Pope.

I can't think of anyone else I want to meet. By meeting I mean, be introduced to, then talk to for 3-5 minutes. Or more, if you really charm them. I don't want to charm any of them. 3-5 minutes sounds right to me. Werner Herzog maybe. Interesting things seem to constantly be happening to him, such as getting shot in the middle of an interview:

I'd like to meet Kobe today and start talking to him about what we have to do to get Kevin Garnett to come to the Lake Show.

So, this weekend my parents are going away again. I feel like I'm fifteen being so excited about this. My plans are to... well... I don't have any plans. There's nothing to do! I might record a cover of "How Do You Talk to an Angel" for Weird Taint Angle. I'm thinking about buying a Macbook this summer. They're about 400 dollars more than what I have planned to spend on a computer, but I need some Garage Band up in this. I should watch some movies. I've watched two movies in the last full month - The Queen and Hot Fuzz. That's it. I'm not entirely sure that that's ever happened in my life. Certainly not since I was ten or so. I'm ashamed of myself.

Anyway. Bye.

Hello May

2007-04-30T21:22:00.000-07:00

I keep thinking about posting something, but I talk myself out of it.

Trannys Welcome

2007-04-25T13:54:00.000-07:00

I was riding around on my extra cool, semi-rusting bicycle today and noticed that a neighbor a few blocks away (we're all neighbors here) had a new sign posted in the front yard. Here is my artistic rendering of the sign:

It was stuck right in the middle of the yard as if it were a for sale sign.

Now, I hate queer folk about as much as the next guy, but, in a town this small with so few fish in the sea, I don't understand why we can't cut the child molestors some slack.

I've Made a Huge Mistake Part: I've Lost Count

2007-04-20T16:07:00.000-07:00

I almost made it three weeks before fully grasping how terrible my current situation is. This is quite a tight spot I've gotten myself into. I'll never have any self-worth if I don't pull out of this one. I probably need to tell my dad to fuck off at some point, too.

Oh, well. I think I knew what I was getting into. The lows are just going to be really low.

This is Terrible

2007-04-17T21:39:00.000-07:00

This is terrible. What an awful sub-headline. This poor girl's family. I don't like this stuff, but I can't stop watching it and reading about it.

This, That, the Other, the Other Other

2007-04-17T20:37:00.000-07:00

I have a painful sunburn. How stupid is that? My neck is literally red. How appropriate.

On Sunday my brother-in-law's mom called me up and asked if I would help her do something in her yard. I didn't really want to, but, so as to be polite, I agreed. I went over there and slowly started to realize that I had a lot of work to do. It really sucked for a while. I wore 6 holes in a brand new set of work gloves. I started looking at removing those "shitting yukkas" (not the entirety of the job, but the crescendo, if you will) as a personal challenge and, when I finished destroying easily 200 pounds worth of those pieces of shit and their motherfucking evil roots that were digustingly entangled, I felt fairly pleased with myself. I laid some fresh soil today and seeded the battlegrounds and was all done. Did I mention that my sunburn has glove lines? Ugh.

Dirtnap had a special gold pressing of The Ergs' new album on sale yesterday and part of today and, as much as I wanted that gold vinyl, I was too scared to order it. I've never ordered an LP before and I'm super convinced that it will get destroyed in the mail. I really want The Copyrights' Mutiny Pop splattered vinyl, too, but I'm scared. Someone please convince me that if I order a record it will not be destroyed in the mail.

I'm in a new band with Crystal called Weird Taint Angle. Most likely, we will ultimately fail at, you know... making music. I think we might slowly try for a little while. I don't know. Crystal is a loose cannon. She's already quit the band once.

Also, I'm doing a terrible solo project where I sing songs about how much I hate where I currently live and how much I'm looking forward to leaving. When in solo-mode I am referring to myself as Little David Junior because, uh... I dunno. It sounds folky/bluesy and I think that's funny. Also, my family has called me Little David, L.D., David Jr. my entire life (my sister preferred calling me Learning Disabled) so it seems appropriate. I probably won't follow through on making that album I claim I'm making, either. Anyway, there are some very demo-y demos that are supposed to be on that album and a cover of the Growing Pains theme song on Little David Junior's Myspace page.

I was very uncomfortable watching that big get together thing they had at Virginia Tech today. Actually, it was just the speech at the end that the famous author alum (I have no idea who she was) gave where she kept shouting, "We are Virginia Tech!" and everyone started chanting this football chant. It sounded like a football game. A chant of school pride that basically exists to promote the school just didn't seem very appropriate in regard to a mass murder. You get a big crowd together on a college campus, though, and that's what happens, I guess.

Did anyone see the interview with the killer's roommates? That kid is the hat seemed like a prick. What the fuck are you smiling about, buddy?

Double-A Fuck-Me-in-the-Ass Ball

2007-04-11T21:38:00.000-07:00

- Don Imus should be fired, but so should Howard Stern, Opie & Anthony, Ron & Fez and the like.

- Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are human garbage. If Malcolm X were alive today he would slap the shit out of both of them and then he'd take Jesse to the bank to help him open his first checking account.

- Friday Night Lights is a fun show. I was embarrassed for liking it at first, but now it's just good. They play Daniel Johnston songs on it!

- Lost is getting all sorts of good up in this muthafucka. Helicopters next week? It certainly looks that way. What is Juliet up to? It dawned on me tonight that the last season of the show could be about all the characters back in the real world getting their lives together. That. Would. Be. So. Good.

- I hate the St. Louis Cardinals. Why? Because their motherfucking DOUBLE-A TEAM is pre-empting The Office and 30 Rock tomorrow night! Fuck that. Fuck the Cardinals, I never really liked them much to begin with. God, that pisses me off.

- I only know about TV.

- I wrote another song today for my solo album. I copied a Jawbreaker song.

- I saw Elvis Costello on Austin City Limits tonight. He inspired me to write my next song about hating Lebanon from the viewpoint of a cow.

- 30 Rock is the best show on TV. You know that, right? They just showed a clip of tomorrow's show on Conan (Tina Fey is on) and it's Liz pretending to be all sexy in her pajamas! AND I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL IT'S OVER AND WATCH IT ONLINE! JMJREANGER@QHEJ$^%REVENGEJJ$E%RAGEW66uj^TEHATEJ$%UJ^DFHERFUCK!

Thank God Your Here!

2007-04-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

I went to church yesterday at 8:00 in the morning. I kept a keen eye out for people I didn't want to be forced to talk to, so I managed to avoid any awkward conversations. The only person roughly my age that I even noticed was this Brad kid who was a year older than me and basically threatened to kick my ass everyday in tenth grade. He would randomly shove me in the back and bump into me when we passed in the halls and other such things. Then he got a girlfriend who I was sort of friends with, too, so anytime he saw me after that he'd always be with this girl and instead of shoving me against the wall he would point and laugh and tell me I was scared of him and his girlfriend would always do say something like, "Brad, stop being such a jerk!" and act all mad, then I'm sure they would skip lunch and fuck in his hot rod or some shit. This happened with another guy who picked on me. Playing basketball, I tried to drive around him and he leg swept me and kicked me in the balls when I was on the ground. I remember laying on the ground in pain and seeing him laughing about it to his girlfriend and she gave him a mean look in my defense. That was nice of her.

So, at church, there's the new hot shit preacher guy. He's only 32. He's got a major Ted Haggard vibe going for him. Apparently he did a back flip during the service a few weeks ago? He was putting on a show for everyone with his yelling and sweating and so forth and then the lights suddenly went off. Illegally edited scenes from The Passion of the Christ were projected onto two 10' x 10' screens behind him. Jesus was getting the hell whipped out of him and it was very disturbing to watch. Hot Shit was narrating the scenes very graphically. The two eight-year-old girls sitting in front me were visibly disturbed, as I have to assume all the other children who just wanted to go home and eat candy from their Easter baskets were. As I watched the nails pounded into Jesus's palms I realized that, even for me, it was far too early for graphic violence. I wished Mel Gibson would bust through one of the huge stained-glass windows on a dirtbike with a lawyer on the back ready to sue everybody. I also wondered if I could sue the church for showing a rated R movie to children, but thought that might be hard since most of them were with their parents. I would have to talk to as many parents as I could and gather their thoughts on the controversy as soon as the service was over and I really didn't want to talk to anybody. I was also very hungry and did not want to have to postpone any chance I had to eat. I wondered if it would be strange for a single, childless loser such as myself to mount such a lawsuit, anyway. Before I had a chance to conclude whether or not it would even be possible (I tend to think not), I noticed that everyone had their heads bowed and someone was praying and when that was over we all got to leave.

I ruined Easter dinner by breaking a bottle of peppermint extract on the floor right when everyone was sitting down to eat. So, while everyone ate, I picked up broken glass and tried to calm the pungent odor. Everyone made snide remarks about how the deviled eggs had a hint of peppermint they weren't expecting, etc...

I've done pretty well with my sit ups and push ups. My chest is no longer small and humble so you don't confuse my pecks with mountains, they are hard and powerful. Sort of. Not really. The push ups have made more of a difference than the sit ups. You would think I would just go out and jog in an attempt to be less fat but that still doesn't appeal to me. I am planning on fixing my bike today, though, so maybe that will help with the cardiovascular side of things. If I, you know... ride it. I'm going to have to ride it when attempting to get a job this week, actually.

My sister got me this poster for my birthday:

It's all framed and stuff. It's exactly what I asked for, too, so that's pleasing. My birthday was two months ago, but I just got it now, but it doesn't matter because I don't have anywhere to hang it, anyway. Actually, I just noticed that this is not the same poster I have. It's pretty similar, but mine is much cooler. The picture part is much bigger and it says, "shane... Shane... SHANE!!!" sort of in a stair step type fashion. Not that you care or will ever even see it, anyway, but I really like it.

There have been several turkeys hanging out in the backyard lately, and they're not even of the jive persuasion. Real turkeys. I tried to take a picture of them but the camera batteries were dead. I'm going to get a picture of those turkeys at some point, though, and when I do, I'm going to show you the pics. You won't know what to do.

I've gathered that I have to mow the yard now instead of work on my bike. Mowing the yard doesn't sound like much fun, but really... what do I care? Is there a single reason I shouldn't mow the yard? I can't think of any. I don't have anything else to do other than work on my bike or get back to reading Mike Wallace's memoirs, both things I can easily do later. Fuck, I'm actually looking forward to watching the premiere of "Thank God You're Here" on NBC tonight, a show that looks so horrendous I'm surprised they didn't just go ahead and misspell "You're" to accentuate the terrible. That's how boring my life is.

Women are Dumb

2007-04-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

Today I went to Great Clips to get my haircut (Snip n' Clip went out of business!). There were only two girls in there working, looking bored. One of them asked the other if Hillary Clinton was running for President. I helped confirm that, yes, indeed she is. She then went on to tell the other girl that there's no way she can win because she's a woman and women are too emotional and sensitive to do the job. It's a man's job, she said, because they're better at working things out and that a woman would just mess everything up. Then Rascal Flatts played on the radio. The song right after that on the same station was by The Gin Blossoms.

Random Goings On

2007-04-03T21:13:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am.

Tonight I made cupcakes. I ate four of them. That's too many. The three I had planned on eating were too many, but then I ate a fourth because it wouldn't fit in the container. I was going to take a picture of said cupcakes but thought it would be pretty embarrassing to be caught by my dad using his camera to take a picture of the cupcakes I'd just made.

I'm fighting every urge I have to get comfortable here. I'm not sure why. Probably because I don't want to be here. I'm not even keeping my toothbrush in the bathroom. I like it this way. I hope I don't lighten up.

I had to paint the deck yesterday. I didn't mind. I have to do that kind of thing when I'm asked as part of some agreement I apparently made. I sort of liked painting the deck, though. I have to do another coat in the morning. Hell, I might mow the yard when I'm done. I'm all domesticated and shit.

I've played guitar more in the past three days than I probably have in the past six months. I've liked that. Not having a television in my room has been nice. I've been playing guitar, listening to music, writing songs, reading books. It's been fairly pleasant, really. Of course, I had a box full of books I planned to read over the next few months and my dad put it in a storage unit without asking me about it. So I'm reading his books. I read Anderson Cooper's Dispatches From the Edge and enjoyed it. He's sort of a pretty boy rich kid and all, but he seems kind of miserable. I think I like miserable people. There's an Andy Rooney book laying around here somewhere, though and I'm not going to read that garbage. I'm still mad at him for what he said about Kurt Cobain in 1994. I was very offended at the time. Heh.

I decided that I'm going to write and record an album over the course of the next few months. It will be about how much I hate this town. I will be ripping early Daniel Johnston very hard. I've written five songs so far, three of which I like, and I've demoed those three on a tape recorded. I'd love to record the entire thing on there, but it sounds too terrible and I have no idea how to get that onto a computer. In fact, even if I borrow/ebay a 4-track like I've been thinking I don't know how to get that on a computer, either. I'll figure it out, though. It will be a cd-r, probably in a slim case with some boring artwork. It will be completely solo and very lo-fi and I hope for it to have at least 15 songs on it, hopefully more like 20. I think I'll probably try to sell it for 5 bucks or less just to see if I can and maybe make back the 20 bucks or so I'll probably invest in it. Maybe I'll even try to do a show in Columbia in the summer. Normally this would sound like a bunch of mumbo jumbo that I'll never follow through on, but I seriously have nothing else to do, so why not?

I'm keeping track of my daily push-ups, sit-ups, and masturbation. I'm trying to do lots of the first two, none of the latter. So far, so good. Some might say that something like this sounds like the beginning stages of losing your mind. I might agree.

I feel really shitty from all those cupcakes.

S&M Lincoln is the best Conan character since Pimpbot. He just hangs out in the hall!

"I've Made a Huge Mistake" Part Please Kill Me Now!

2007-03-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

This is the rickshaw in question:

More on it later.

I've moved. Most of my stuff, at least. Not so much the big stuff, but I'm going to get it later. The highlight of my day was finding my copy of Dear You that I've been looking for for two years plus. There have been many low lights. My mom only waited about five minutes into the drive to start explaining to me how some people don't achieve their goals and how she didn't and Dad didn't and they never thought they'd end up the way they were. Her point being that some people can't achieve their goals, and by some people she means me. I don't see what the big fucking deal is. All I want to do is move to Chicago. She's been there before. She wasn't murdered. It's not that expensive. I'm not that gigantic of a failure. At least I don't think I am. I had to change a tire. That was another low light. I was hungover all day. That was shitty. There's nothing to eat. I think I broke my back carrying all of my dvds. None of these things were the worst part of my day, though.

This is me and my Grandpa when I was three-years-old.

If you look closely, you can see that I was fucking adorable. You may also notice that nowadays I dress exactly like the guy, sans the hat. Anyway, he died about a month ago and, due to a series of unfortnuate events, I was unable to attend this funeral. It is true that I hate funerals and I ran out in the middle of the last one I was at and I vowed to never go to a funeral again. I think funerals are an obligation and not a celebration of life, not to mention the fact that it's an extremely lucrative business that funeral homes exploit to their advantage. I would rather not support that.

That said, not going to his funeral was terrible. I don't recall ever feeling quite that badly about something. I didn't really speak to anyone for eight days, I barely ate, I couldn't sleep at all, so on and so forth with the terrible things.

So, anyway, Grandpa used to pull me around in that rickshaw when I was young and that's a very fond memory for me. I was thinking about that rickshaw the other night and decided it would be a great idea for me to take it and try and fix it up while I'm living here, because I won't have any friends to hang out with or anything else to do. I asked my dad about it and he said it could probably be fixed up but my mom kept going on about how it's a hunk of junk and they're going to sell it as soon as possible and she won't have that thing at her house, blah, blah, blah. Later on, I told her I couldn't believe she wouldn't let me have the rickshaw and she was all, "You didn't even go to his funeral so I don't know why you would want it, anyway." Then she went on and accused me of not going on purpose, just because I didn't want to. My family seems to think I have this cruel streak in me where I don't care about anyone else. I don't feel like getting into anymore examples because they really bum me out, especially since I don't think I'm cruel or insensitive or completely uneffected by deaths of family members. These people don't get me. At all. This is probably why most people don't move in with their parents at this age.

This was day one. Not even a full day has passed and I've been scoffed at for thinking I'll actually move to Chicago and I've had my feelings hurt pretty badly to boot. DAY ONE. FUCK.

Shut Up, Blog

2007-03-29T00:29:00.000-07:00

Oh, no. It's happened. I've gotten drunk alone and have started feeling really sad. I don't think it's about leaving Columbia, though. I'm going to miss some of my friends from Columbia. A few I'll keep in touch with. Others I probably won't keep in touch with and I might even feel badly about it. Others have made it perfectly clear that there was no point in us being friends to begin with. And some probably don't even know I'm moving. So, I'll miss a few people, and I'll miss 9th Street Video, and I'll miss Eastside some, and I'll miss the occassional Shakespeare's Pizza. I'll miss Boulevard Wheat, too, I bet, but basically I'm ready to leave.

I've always felt rather lonely here. In fact, I've felt lonely for as long as I can remember, give or take a few nice spots of comfort and happiness. I'm setting myself up for greater lonliness, though, I think. I'm moving in with my parents for upwards of half a year (God, I hope it's not that long) with intentions of deliberately ignoring any and all possibility of social activity. Then I want to move to Chicago where I know absolutely no one? If I thought I were good at making friends I wouldn't be concerned, but I know I'm not good at making friends. The only thing I'll know to do is go to bars alone and drink until I'm drunk enough to talk to someone, and then what? Is that person going to be my friend? People who make friends in bars are creeps, aren't they? And wouldn't that make me a creep? I don't want to be a creep. I don't even want to go to bars alone anymore!

Oh, well. I'll figure it out, I guess. I'd sure like a sweetheart, but that would probably ruin things more than my own disposition already has. Or will. Or whatever. Shut up, Blog.

Which is the Better Ron Howard Movie?

2007-03-27T00:15:00.000-07:00

Backdraft or The Paper?

Blogger won't let me edit my stupid blog entries. Seeing as how I consider them stupid, one would think I wouldn't care about editing my blog entires. I do, though, I really do want to. Especially that last one. It's so stupid. I could delete it, but deleting blog entries is the first sign of me losing interest in the ol' blogspot, and I want to keep it going. I like the anonymity of Blogger. Myspace isn't doing it for me these days.

The following makes me very unhappy:

I'm Going to Join Daughtry

2007-03-26T23:51:00.000-07:00

I don't like that people get so offended when Kobe is compared to Jordan. It offends... ME!

I watched The Bank Dick again tonight. W.C. Fields is funny. I bet no one has ever noticed that before!

I should be packing stuff but I've just been sitting in front of my computer all night doing nothing. I made pancakes for dinner. They weren't good. I was going to watch The Rules of the Game, too, but I'm not quite in the mood to see what could be the greatest movie ever for the first time. Me and my moods.

It would be pretty cool to be a guitar player in Daughtry. You surely have to be able to let go of every insecurity you've ever had to play music like that. I can play that crap. I've got a semi-fancy guitar. I can get some leather pants. I want in! I want to be around that Chris Daughtry aura. I bet it's like walking through the gates of heaven with a big boner. I would just breathe him in. Perhaps I should make an audtion tape...

"I've Made a Huge Mistake" Part II

2007-03-22T14:49:00.000-07:00

My Mom bought me some contacts for Christmas and had me pay for them with her credit card. I gave the card back without committing the card numbers to memory believe it or not.

Today I got an e-mail saying there were two strange charges on her card from yesterday and she wanted to know if I made them. Considering that I have no access to said credit card this was impossible for me to do even if I had wanted to, so I said that I did not make those charges. She wrote back and asked if I was sure. Now, granted, I did order a t-shirt online on March 19th that, with shipping, cost $4.99. I used my check card to do such, though. I told her this but stressed that it was on my card, not hers. I also asked what the charges were. She e-mailed them to me and after a quick Google search of the two companies ordered from, it was obscenely obvious that my Dad had made said charges. He was never considered a suspect, though, despite the fact that he orders something off of Ebay with that very same card at least once a week. First it was my fault, then it was the Internet's fault.

What am I getting myself into... Yikes.

"I've Made a Huge Mistake"

2007-03-21T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've decided that, after a reasonable amount of thought, that I am leaving Columbia, Missouri. I will be making the incredibly embarrassing move into my parent's humble home, for... oh, this stings... six months. Worse yet, maybe even longer, but I will defintely not be living there in 2008. At some point this fall I will be moving to Chicago where I will take some semi-appropriate steps towards attempting a career in writing. This is the point where you start laughing. Unfortunately, however, what I just wrote was unintentionally funny. Whatever, though - I'll take what I can get.

If I could think of a reason to not do this I would strongly consider it. I can't, though. I've stayed in Columbia four years longer than I should have. I don't really have any commitments to anything here. People need goals. I pulled one out of my ass and it doesn't even stink, so I'm just going to go with it.

As much as living with my parents is going to suck, I look forward to baking a lot and posting photos of all of my baked goods. I might even build something and take a picture of it, too. I anticipate abusing Netflix, reading all of the books I own that I've yet to read, and enjoying not having a car because I really don't want one. Oh, and having a really shitty job.

I'll be gone on the 31st, so if I have anything of yours that you want back, let me know.

Addicted to Addiction

2007-03-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

I don't know what I'm watching on HBO right now, but it should not be on television. It's a guy abusing his wife in front of his four-year-old son who is screaming and crying. Holy shit, there's video of him drunk driving and wrecking. Wow. This is ridiculous. Make me stop. These addiction shows are not for me. Somebody put on "Cathouse" or "Babar" on. This little kid crying is breaking my heart.

Oh, wait. He's out of rehab now. Everything's better. He still seems like an asshole, though. Oh, wait. They're bankrupt now. Things are not better. He's going to relapse. Why am I still watching this? Why does it have to be so fast-paced? Wait. Huh? He's a news anchor now. They live in a log cabin now! How the hell is this asshole on the news? Lead anchor! Oh, no! He's drinking again but they're playing happy music. PAID SUSPENSION! His boss asked for his resignation! His wife is crying. He's talking about shooting himself. 1997 is history, let's start 1998! Oh, no. March onf 1998 the wife filed for divorce. And so begins the crack smoking... Hopefully the crack will help him sort things out. Six years later and he's giving a speach about being sober at a high school graduation. I hope this is over. He keeps talking about the fame and how hard the fame was. He's was a local news anchor. How hard could it be? Ah, credits. Thank you. I'm going now.

I Can't Snooze But I Still Lose

2007-03-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

Friday night I failed to crash your party and, therefore, I had no reason on Saturday to say I'm sorry. Today, Sunday, I did nothing, so it didn't really trash me out again. Here's what I did do this weekend:

Friday: I watched Take the Money and Run and Bananas on Turner Classic Movies. After that they aired an episode of "The Dick Cavett Show" from 1971 and Woody Allen was the guest. It was fairly amusing. Then I laid in bed for several hours until I finally decided I was not going to be able to sleep, so I made pancakes. They were not all that great. It was only my second attempt every at making pancakes. My ham, cheddar, and jalapeno omelette I ate the day before, however, was delicious. I was able to fall asleep around 9:30 Saturday morning.

Saturday: I woke up at 3:00. Jimi told me we had to go to Bobby's at 3:45 and we did. We watched several episodes of "Wildboyz" and I thoroughly enjoyed each. Then some people arrived for his party and we grilled food and drank beer and other things of that nature. When they all decided to go Deja Vu to dance, dance, dance, I took that as my opportunity to take Jimi's car home, which I did. If I recall correctly, I looked at a bunch of crap on the Internet and was bored out of my mind. Eventually I think I managed to fall asleep.

Sunday: Bobby showed up over here for reasons unknown and he brought be a Route 44 root beer! That's my favorite. Then he and Jimi went to softball practice and I've basically sat around and done nothing. Very little to report no the Sunday front.

That was my lame weekend. I had an okay time at Bobby's, but everything else was dumb.

Did you know that my hair looks ridiculous? I've told myself I'm going to get a haircut for the past two weeks, I just don't go through with it. I hate it so much. And I have to walk there. The walk of shame to Great Clips. I wonder who it will be worse for - me, the person who hates getting haircuts and is very uncomfortable with the entire process or the person cutting my hair who will see me walk in with this mop on my head and realize that he or she does not get paid enough? I'll get a haircut tomorrow. If I don't I'm going to punch my genitals really hard. That'll teach me.

I think The Human Giant looks pretty funny.

I have a friend named Jessica who swears she listens to techno. Who the fuck listens to techno?

David Spade touched Jessi Klein's boobs on "The Showbiz Show". I do not approve. And, speaking of Spade, he's really funny. I'm not ashamed to say it.

As you can probably tell, I'm out of things to say.

The Whole World, Man...

2007-03-15T22:06:00.000-07:00

Planet Earth. I'm excited.