look, your friends won't tell you, your mom certainly didn't tell you, its about time you get a clue, and just in the nick of time...its the haters guide to...
7.12.2006
try not to suck any more dick on the way out to the parking lot...
some new trailors are on the block and worthy of some on-the-clock procrastinating:
anybody want a chocolate starfish? http://www.clerks2.com/trailer/index.html
yielgamesh! just in time for good times. borat's new movie premiers in u, s, and a!!!!! http://www.borat.tv/
the non-fiction book about the san francisco serial killer (that was never caught) that this movie is based on is the entire reason camping and making out in secluded, dark, roads makes me want to puke from fear (thanks mel for passing that shit on when i was like 15 p.s. that pretty much took care of my high school social life): http://www.thezodiacfilm.com/
for the artsy ladies, basically "garden state 2." as far as i'm concerned, zack braff can keep making movies about his confusion about his life, because god dammit, the boy is hawt (i once saw him in a gardening store near my house and didn't say anything, though tempted to yell out "many moore sucks!"): http://www.apple.com/trailers/dreamworks/thelastkiss/
if i see any one of you in line for the lake house, you can rest assured that i will walk by yo' ass like we ain't never met. x-tina, i'm looking in your direction (as if "miss congeniality: armed and fabulous" wasn't enough...sheeshh).
alright, i think i officially heard this phrase about 50 times today: "look, that CSI show is just crap, don't pay any attention to it."
who knew david caruso was causing such a stir in the scientific community.
so here's what i learned today:
1) turns out superglue is pretty awesome at lifting the prints off hennesy and snapple bottles.
2) apparently people are drinking hennesy and snapple...together. (wtf?)
3) fingerprints are now matched using ridgology or some shit like that. its all about grooves and bumps and more adjectives that seem like awful 90's dance moves.
4) don't stop for a beer when your in the middle of a burglary and are not wearing gloves. (no, seriously).
5) careful what STDs you get, that can be an identifying mark later on (ie: "we knew that this woman was obviously not the victim because she had genital warts" ewwwwww)
6) all manner of hair style and facial hair is acceptable at the crime lab including handle bar moustaches and mullets. in fact, the "m & m" is encouraged.
7) rows upon rows upon fucking rows of guns are in the crime lab. so if the aliens come, i know where i'm fucking going. (i mean, there were more bullets there than in that crazy guy's basement in "tremors," and that's fucking saying something).
8) DNA from blood co-mingels and even masks "touch" DNA marks. heavy....
9) even five year old crime scenes can yield results. (creepy).
10) gun powder can mark someone even four feet away. but conveniently can be washed away with a quick shower. (yay for criminals!)
needless to say, the three hour tour was, um..instructional if not anything else (i'm still freaked out about the warts thing)...
i went to, wait stop...i fucking schlepped down to irvine last friday to go see nine inch nails and co. for what promised to be a good show. needless to say, when i finally arrived (uh, like 50 miles and about 2 hours later), i arrived about 2 acts deep into the fucking show at seven-fucking-forty-five.
yo, wassup with that homies?
isn't it illegal for rock and roll to be performed during daylight hours (with the obvious exception of an all day festival)? i mean, goth music was not meant to be played while the sun beats bright and exposes all the fat that is pushed into vinyl (that just reminds one of german hand-made sausages) alongside all the pastiness that is the trench coat maffia. that is just not right my friend. but alas, here's the problem: this is the second damn show even just this year that i've been to that has started at like seven (green day even started early).
now what the fuck does that teach the kids hey? no, c'mon. your supposed to hit the stage late, allow the grown ups to pre-game in the parking lot and end around midnight (at the very earliest). what's this over at 11 bullshit? does someone have a fucking curfew? i mean, this is rock and fucking roll people, not bed time story time. this is nine inch nails, not disney sing along at the hollywood bowl.
its absurd. and i'm not going to stand for it any longer (that is until massive attack comes into town and then maybe i might stand for it).
furthermore, this bloody concert was in irvine, at seven pm, on a FRIDAY. what the fuck? additionally, to compound matters, nin didn't play a LA show, meaning that lots of people schlepped down from LA and sat in traffic in two hours only to completely miss peaches and a good part of (oh fuck, i have no idea how the hell to spell this next band's name) bauhus (??). what bullshit. seven might be alright on a saturday night man, but on a friday when people get off work at 5pm? i think the only people that made it for peaches were fucking unemployed high schoolers who got their mom to drive them there. i mean, they might has well have played a fucking cd, because i guarantee no one was there to watch the poor girl. what a fucking insult.
and speaking of insults, i'm insulted. i mean, is rock and roll getting older and going the way of the early bird dinner special? are they gonna hand walkers out now instead of tickets? plaid pants intead of hair dye?
alright, the other day (when i formerly pretended to have at least some semblance of a life) i went out drinking with some kids from the neighborhood and for one reason or another found ourselves at the vine club. ok, i know clubs and bars are going up and coming down quicker than a fucking ride at six flags, but thinking that i'm somewhat up on what's "cool" or "hot" or "in" or whatever, i was surprised to see i hadn't even heard of this place.
cut to: taxi arrives outside a bar that looks like a scene from some nirvana documentary come weezer fan club meeting with a fairly burly guy outside the door. my friend dave approaches and finds out, much to all of our dismay, that this shithole no one's heard of has a list, and i'm sorry, i don't care who you know, the list is closed for tonight.
uh, ok. but excuse me, this place is a complete shithole right? ok, just checking.
so, my friends and i were ousted from the indy bullshit bar because we weren't on the list and didn't look like we hadn't taken a shower in 10 days.
look, here's the fucking point: i thought all these indy and emo kids were all on board with the plan. the plan being that any idea of a "line" or "list" is hollywood bullshit that none of us buy into because we're super cool and above that shit. wrrroooooonnnggg. looks like even the kids who shun all that's hollywood have slowly become quintessentially hollywood themselves. i mean, replace the skinny bitchy model with a big tatted out dude, whatever, its still a fucking list that some dude named caarrrrrlllooosss put together this fucking afternoon in the midst of taking a huge hit off a 10 foot bong. its still irrelevant and its fucking elitist as shit. i mean, its a bar, they serve alcohol, what's the fucking deal?
i mean, i guess the point for them (them being the uber hollywood LAXers and the now booming emo indy kids with lists) is that they like being amongst their kind. the point of the list can be exclusivity--a ploy to keep "our kind" (read sluts or kids with no sense of rhythm or sense of shame) from "their kind" (read people who like diversity and could give a fuck). there's a certain comfort to knowing that if you go to a certain club, dressed a certain way, you'll encounter your kind and everyone will high five and feel good about themselves in their little bubble.
la te fucking da. It’s such bullshit. and to think that the "alternative" community of LA has begun to embrace those very characteristics of the "mainstream" society makes me frustrated. i mean, come the fuck on people. your supposed to not give a fuck, not be on the fucking list. jesus.
one things for certain, either way, i ain't on the list. and know what, i'm kinda alright with that.
ai'ght so i'd like to address the *minor* complaining that i have a) lost my hating touch, b) have lost the will to write and finally c) have lost the attention of my audience. so, yea, yea, yea, alright, i've wanted to write a whole lot more, believe me. unfortunately, as i kinda got a fucking life this summer and have a somewhat insane summer schedule (that is more packed in then even my school year) i simply don't have enough time to fuck around and put the hate (that believe me, has not gone away) into blog entries, no matter how much i'm desperate to...and believe me, i'm desperate.
anyways, first, thanks for putting up with my complete abscene and i'd like to flatter myself that maybe i'm talking to more than one person here, hopefully that's the case. if not, dude, thanks a lot for reading my shit, nothing like being the number one fan hey?
needless to say, i should be doing work right now, but i decided to procrastinate and put that "legal stuff" off for a while for something more "important."
needless to say, i'm gonna try and get my ass back on the bandwagon so watch out you fan you. the hate is coming your way.
one quick rant: country music all day festival?? have we done something wrong god? why oh why must we but subject to an ALL FUCKING DAY LONG FESTIVAL OF COUNTRY MUSIC ON TV! i say its time to sacrifice someone to appease the gods of good musical taste. brooks and dunn, i'm looking in your ryan-seacrest-inspired-metrosexual direction.
turns out putting everyone's favorite "exceptions" to their relationship on screen makes for a movie that beat the shit out of even luke fucking skywalker and hans solo for an opening weekend.
i mean, the long time johhny depp fans who'd follow him to any cinematic foray including such pussy-whipped film titles as "the man who cried" (alright, i only went to the London premier, its not like it was a big deal or anything), combined with the tiffany locket-wearing girls who love a girly man who competes with mirror time, alongside men whose idea of beauty is a woman whose body mirrors that of a 10 year old boy (no hate, i would too like to have a body of a 10 year old boy if I had the fucking chance) = more money than most third world nations have seen in a century.
seriously, forget the fucking storyline...forget the camera angles...forget the costumes and elaborate sets, this movie is making this much money for one reason: the force of having a million people's private fantasties put together in one movie. that's it. i mean, if this isn't one movie begging for "if they made it," i don't know what the fuck is.
and to think, it's all based on ugly, crusty robots that sing "yo ho ho, a pirate's life for me" because all non-pc undertones have been scrubbed and removed by the family-fucking-oriented folks at disneyland. oh, wait, so now the chick has a pie and that's why their chasing her...oh that's much better than them chasing her because their fucking pirates. i mean, its enough to make a person get outraged, or just think about throwing a big black dildo at one of the dudes on the island, i mean, not like i've thought about that or anything...um...
anyways, point being: i'm fairly certain that the movie's success has little to do with p.c. ball-less, drunk, singing anamatornic robots at Disneyland and everything to do with the fact that boys and girls can agree to go to a movie where everyone gets a nice glimpse of their favorite go-to celebrity that they use in crunch time.
so go forth and add to the multiple orgasm that is pirates of the carribean, i mean, fuck it, who cares about the plot anyway right?
or maybe i'm wrong, check out what ninjas are sayin': http://askaninja.com/ (check out the review of pirates of the carribean)
and why in the name of fuck is the pirate in disneyland hanging with some pigs? what, no sheep available? just sayin', i mean, if i was drunk, i'd be looking for something more than some hey and some pigs to laugh at my terrible jokes. i mean, what the fuck is going on in that picture? wierd...
some new trailors are on the block and worthy of some on-the-clock procrastinating:
