I'm Out Of Wit; How 'Bout Some Dense Observations?

This blog's days are numbered.

It will be gone, but not forgotten. I know entries have been dragging ass lately. Super sorry. All I can say is that there be a methodde to thyne own madness, and writting about myself in 3rd person old English is easy.

In the mean time, I've noticed some things. Some famous people look like other famous people. No one's ever pointed that out! Don't worry. To make up for this shitty post I'll give you some stupid pet tricks next time. K?

1.

Virgin Billionare Richard Branson...

...and a bloated/scarred Mickey Rourke

2.

Thomas Haden Church (3/3/2009, 7:56 PM, charged with Mopery; later acquitted)..

...and Libyan singing sensation Moammar al-Gaddafi

3. (this one's sad)

Drew Carey 2009...

...and Michael Moore

Movin’ Pictures: District 9

I hate to break the news to all the Sara Suburbs or little Johnny Culdesacs out there, but poor people are as ubiquitous in the world as the Miley Cyrus posters are in your bedroom. I think every continent has some sort of good movie that represents the hardships of its ghetto dwellers; you have your City of God's, your Slumdog Millionaire’s, your Kangaroo Jack’s, etc. The only continent left just happens to be the most colossally fucked one ever (including Pangaea).

Making a slum movie about Africa should not be hard since, oh, I don’t know…it’s AFRICA. It had that whole “colonialism” thing. Also that little apartheid thing, whatever the heck-a-roonie that was. There’s also the abject poverty, the AIDS, the Super AIDS, ebola, gun-touting militias, military dictatorships, and just the overall haze of suck that kind of hangs over the land. Africa has a billion people living in what is essentially the world’s largest ghetto. Film that.

Man, the only thing that place is missing are aliens. If only Africa had some aliens, then and only then could we make a kick-ass ghetto film.

District 9, like this review of it, leaves the audience asking, “what the fuck are they trying to say?”

Check this out, I’m not making this up. Here are two quick reviews I read on RottenTomatoes. Both are positive.

“A brilliant social commentary.” – Victoria Alexander, FilmsInReview.com
“[District 9] signifies nothing.” – Tim Brayton, Antagony & Ecstacy

I have no fucking clue what I just watched. So, there are hyper-intelligent aliens with advanced technology, and for some unexplained reason they turn dim and chill out over South Africa. The government collects them all, puts them in a slum, and then normal slum-like problems occur (gangs, black market). It’s like a fucking, normal slum movie except all the poor, stupid people are really poor, really stupid and they look like Shrimp Men.

I know this was supposed to be a sci-fi horror comedy satire. I don’t care that some professional movie critics are comparing it to Planet of the Apes. District 9 was objectively retarded. It was a bore that didn’t have to be so goddamn boring.

Without giving too much plot away, I’m just going to say I hated the protagonist. Wikus van de Merwe (Copley) is almost as unintelligible as the fucking non-English-speaking aliens. He has some sort of jumbled South African dialect that makes him sound Welsh. I did like watching him argue with the alien protagonist, Christopher Johnson (hahaha). Hearing those two go back and forth reminded me of the cantina scene in Star Wars.

Movies need to stop being shot with the shaky cam. It was fine for the first 20 minutes where it was supposed to feel like a documentary. That actually makes sense when the plot involves a whole film crew tagging along with military operations. But when you’re watching something that only the audience is supposed to know about and the footage is still at home movie quality, you’re left feeling confused and motion sick.

I’m not going to lie. There were some pretty funny parts, like the human-alien bareback humping or when a Gundam mech suit hits a pig into a soldier and they all die. So, yeah. The film is not a complete loss. Mindless fun, I guess.

If you want to see a deep movie about life in a ghetto, rent Fiddler on the Roof. If you want a deep, sci-fi flick, rent Planet of the Apes. If you want to watch campy aliens tear ass on humans or vice versa, rent Starship Troopers. Don’t combine them into one, big, mediocre fart.

I give District 9 5/10 corgis. Meh.

Movin’ Pictures: Inglourious Basterds

(I really hate the title’s incorrect spelling, which is weird because if it weren’t for spell check, this whole blog would make me look like a stroke victim)

I’m going to sound like a dick. Sorry. As I sit here trying to think of things to say, going over a few points over and over in my mind, it all starts to make me sound, to myself at least, like a huge, effin’ dick. But honestly, I like the movie. A lot.

It’s just that I thought the movie would fucking blow my mind. Instead, it was merely awesome. Tarantino shot for a Pulp Fiction but wound up with a Kill Bill vol. 1.

By now you’ve probably heard about how this was supposed to be his glorious Cowboy Western epic, that it took 10 years to write, and that he left on the editing room floor enough of his WWII fairy tale to make a fucking WWI prequel. Not bad for a 2 and a half hour long slog fest.

The film has two main story lines that culminate together at the end. One follows the events of Shosanna (Laurent), a French Jew who loses her family in a raid and winds up as the manager of a little cinema theater. You better like this chick because this is basically her film and her story. I was a little disappointed because I thought the second story line, the one following Lieutenant Aldo “The Apache” Raine (Pitt), would be focused on more. This is the shit that was really cut out. All the back story with The Basterds, shots of them tearing ass through Nazi occupied France, the pithy dialogue, almost all cut out. You can tell you’re watching a watered down version; an incredible revelation because god damn those guys are funny and brutal.

You’ll like every single character. I was surprised that I liked Eli Roth’s character, Sgt. Donny “The Bear Jew” Donowitz, because I personally don’t really like Eli Roth and his stupid snuff movie porn shit. I guess it makes sense that an annoying, sadistic Jewish American would be cherry picked to play one. Good job, Eli.

The movie is extremely dialogue heavy, which is a good thing if you find agonizing tension just as enjoyable as agonizing slaughter. You can thank “The Jew Hunter” Hans Landa (Waltz) for that. Tarantino and Waltz created the perfect movie villain; a romantic, and sinister genius who serves as the only real bridge between the two protagonists. It feels really weird liking a Nazi this much.

Tarantino does a great job with the directing, using all the artsy fartsy camera/lighting/setting techniques I’ve completely forgotten from the cinematography course I barely passed. The film definitely deserves to be watched more than once; keeping track of all this stuff AND the plot AND the great acting AND the constant sensation of being gob smacked, you also have to keep track of all the moderately obscure movie tributes Tarantino makes because Tarantino is a huge fucking movie dork (not necessarily a bad thing)

Inglourious Basterds gets 9/10 corgis. It should be seen.

ABC ‘s Fall Lineup

All shows premier September, 4 2009

Hugo and Me

[Background Music – Wooly Bully, Sam the Sham and the Pharos]

Johnny Wright was the best and brightest student in his little Kansas high school. But when this All-American Rhode Scholar decided to travel abroad, he didn’t realize that his host daddy…was the daddy of Venezuela!

“Sorry I’m late, Pop. I’m not used to nation-wide mandatory curfews.”

“Aaaaammeeeeerrrrriiiiiicaaaaaaaaannnnooo!”

[Background Music – What if God Was One of Us, Joan Osborne]

Can love and understanding bridge the divides of nationalism?

“You’re not my real daddy!”

And can we find the answers…in our hearts?

“[I’m proud of you, Johnny. I’ve (sob) always...been so proud…]”

This fall, control YOUR media, and watch the state of….Hugo and Me. Staring Shia LaBeouf and Hugo Chavez, as himself


Cougar Hunter

[Background Music – Wooly Bully, Sam the Sham and the Pharos]

The pest control game wasn’t really cutting it for high school drop out Ed Fisher. At 22, his life was going nowhere…until he started hunting bigger game amongst New York City’s richest divorcés!

“Rrrrrrrrrrow…”

“Uh…meow?”

[Background Music – What if God Was One of Us, Joan Osborne]

Can this amateur jiggalo make the hearts of older women purr?

“I love you, Ed…”

Or will the whole experience leave him scratched?

“We found ‘em like this this mornin’ ‘round 8. Two bodies, both shot in the head, ‘cept this one definitely did it to himself Cobain style.”

“That’s a lot of blood. Christ, this perp reeks.”

This fall, the best time to hunt cougars is when they are in heat. Cougar Hunter, staring Courtney Cox and Hugo Chavez as Ed


Stuck in the Middle

[Background Music – Wooly Bully, Sam the Sham and the Pharos]

Bridgette Hallmark always had trouble balancing her home life with her high paying CEO job. But when the entire global economy is sent into a tailspin, she goes from power player to home maker over night. Now she’s middle class in the middle of the country and is rapidly approaching middle age!

“Which one of you incompetent fuck heads ate all the goddamn potato salad!? That was for the stupid fucking PTA meeting tonight that your goddamn low-balling public school is making me attend.”

[Background Music – What if God Was One of Us, Joan Osborne]

Can she learn to cope with her slower, more down-to-Earth life?

“Sometimes I just get the urge to drive off a bridge and take my whole family with me.”

Or will she be forever lost in the past?

“Sometimes I just get the urge to drive off a bridge and take my whole family with me.”

This fall, Hugo Chavez is…Stuck in the Middle.

August Rush

August is a weird month. For some strange reason, it is both the most important and the most useless month of the year. Don’t believe me? Check your calendar, right now. I bet it’s filled up with birthdays and vacation plans and sex parties, all while the worst calendar picture of the year is proudly being displayed (Playboy’s Ms. August 2009 has scoliosis and razor burn on her chest).

Now, on average, you share your birthday with about 18,000,000 people. But that number is slightly larger in August. Why? ‘Cause bitches be fuckin’ at Thanksgiving. That’s right, August has the most birthdays out of any month for reasons I can only assume are related to family, alcohol and tryptophan. If that’s not the case then you tell me why so many people like to have a sloppy, unprotected fuck in November. Ew. What if it had to do with Veterans Day? Or Election Day?

Being the sweaty taint of Summer, August is too much of a hazy inferno to accomplish anything. It’s really more of a time to enjoy southern delights like impromptu BBQ’s, swimming holes, and lounging around complaining about how lazy other people are as they lounge around and complain about the heat because they’re so fucking lazy. I know last part sounds retarded and grammatically convoluted, but it’s August and hot and I just don’t…fucking…care…anym

November might be prime deer hunting season, but August is by far the best season to hunt human. It is by far the bloodiest month. Some blame the heat, while others blame the “evil-amulet” properties of August’s birthstone, the peridot. On top of being the month where numerous wars started and ended, when we bombed Japan back into a Flintstones episode, and when God sent Hurricane Katrina to punish New Orleans and by accident every person in a 250 mile radius, we just had the physical manifestation of rape do that voodoo that he do soooo well. Always with the suicide at the end. The mentally disturbed need to take it back to the outlaw glory days where actual bank robbing criminals had the decency to go out in a hail of gunfire.

As for me, my birthday is right smack in the middle of August. I’d throw a murder-theme party for all my friends if I wasn’t so goddamn hot and I wasn’t…so…goddamn…tired.

Stick Me in the Ground

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.I know.

But I do not approve. ‘Cause only fags do that shit, son.

Houston, represent!

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

I think what this Pulitzer Prize winning dame was trying to say was, “Let’s prevent some more zombie attacks here. M’kay, people?” This collectivist approach towards body disposal has issued in a golden age, no, a dynasty of zombie-free living; it’s been almost 4 years since the last recorded attack.

In lieu of traditional burials, people are opting for more alternative methods: funeral pyres, body harvesting, living longer. Gross. Oh sure, this all sounds great. No more zombies? Hell yeah sign me up. But what the American people have forgotten in the time since 9/11 is that by eliminating the Life-Death-Reanimation-More Death-Apocalypse-Genesis cycle, you’re making the quality of life worse and extending it at the same time.

Let’s get the obvious downfall out of the way first: too many old people. They want to die just as much as we wish they would. Seriously, who wants to be 105? God has a specific plan once you turn 70 and it involves dying and walking the earth as an abomination. Zombies may have destroyed the very fabric of civilization in some parts of the world, but never has a zombie dinged my car, or told me a really boring story about the 30’s, or smelled like medicine, or complained to my manager.

Without dead bodies, several key industries will go under at a time when our economy is teetering on the brink of collapse as it is. Sam Bowman of Patterson, Illinois is the North American Casketeers Union leader of Local 34.

“How many people are here on Earth? Ten billion? Twenty? A casket’s got about…I’d say on average 40 dollars worth of lumber, bolts, screws, linen, whatever, and we charge ‘em at about the same price as a used car. If the casket making industry were to suddenly pucker up like my wife’s asshole…we’d be better off if Ford went under. Shit comes and goes, but people will always be dyin’.”

If there are no dead bodies, then there would be no caskets. And without caskets, there’d be no cemeteries to bury them in. And without cemeteries, where would fat, goth girls go to smoke marijuana?

Look, I know that when it comes to this subject, people’s emotions get pretty raw. It’s a debate that’s been going on for thousands of years, and we still can’t figure it out. Aristotle couldn’t come up with an answer, and he was taught by Plato. Plato couldn’t either, and he was taught by Socrates. And even Socrates couldn’t because he’s full of shit.

The point is that, zombies are like this big cleansing fire. They sweep through this forest, aka, human civilization, and clean up the thorns and dead animals and used condoms that clutter our lives. It isn’t until we’ve seen our own loved ones devoured by a decomposing army of the damned that we can pause, reflect, and come to meaningful conclusions. “I shouldn’t have lost my shit at that Starbucks employee. That poor girl. She probably never even knew two-dollar bills existed. Not her fault.”

So I say put dead bodies in the ground where they belong. It’s not like we won’t be seeing them soon enough.

Title: [Untitled]

Title: [Untitled]

Characters:
Greg – A nerdy, mid-20’s accountant. Very lame and mild mannered personality. Uses office jargon a lot.
Alter Boy – A latently gay and polite, religious zealot who is clueless
Captain Yo-Yo – If a Skip It commercial came to life and was a wigger. Actually terrible at the yo-yo.
Dungeon Master – Your typical heavy set, snarky, and irreverent nerd

Setting: A library conference room. There is a large table with a macbook resting on it, a few chairs, and a white board with a few scribbles on it. Three men are sitting at the table while one stands. There are some wayward pieces of paper on the table.

[open]

GREG
Alright, this is good. This is great. Look’s like everyone is here so…I guess I’ll begin. [Ahem]. My name is Greg Higgins. I’m a former accounting underling of Black Mantis, who, as you all know, was arrested along with Beaver Man, The Prankster, Dr. Velocity, uh…Hot Cop; basically, the entire League of Bay Area Super Villains. That day was a real barn-burner. They were arrested…for forever…by that insufferable, Dewlapped Destroyer, Moose Man. [chuckling] I uh…don’t think I need to tell you guys, our feelings, about uh…that guy [smiling].

OTHER THREE MEN
[silence]

GREG
So, that is why I, the last part of LOBASV, combed all the Bay Area high schools and assembled you guys…the best, up-and-coming super villains, this town has to offer! The young blood! Seriously, give yourselves a round of applause!

Greg applauds enthusiastically alone.

GREG
‘Cause seriously, it’s all about you guys. We are going to recontextualize the villainy in this town and together, get that dirty so-n-so Moose Man. So, what I would like to do right now is continue onto our next action item which is part 2 of the itinerary-

CPT. YO-YO
Yo, I didn’t get no eye-tinrary.

GREG
…well, why don’t you share with him and… it’ll work out. It's fine. You don’t really need an itinerary for this part right now ‘cause what we’re gonna do is introduce ourselves, sorta, familiarize ourselves with each other, become real homies, right bro-hams? [awkward pause] And then we’ll come up with a plan for killing Moose Man. So, why don’t we start with…you, in the blouse. Stand up, tell us your name aaaaand what you’re about! Go.

Alter Boy stands.

ALTER BOY
Well first off, this is not a blouse; it’s a surplice-

CPT. YO-YO
[to Dungeon Master] It’s a very pretty blouse…

ALTER BOY
Hey, shut up. It’s not a blouse! It’s a surplice and, the ladies, love it. They just…swarm all over me all the time-

CPT. YO-YO
They flock to your smock.

ALTER BOY
They flock to my smock. But I would never fornicate with harlots because-

DUNGEON MASTER
You’re gay.

Dungeon Master and Cpt. Yo-Yo chuckle.

ALTER BOY
No. Because it’s villainous to leave girls in wanting.

Dungeon Master and Cpt. Yo-Yo make faces at the weird phrasing.

GREG
Listen, Alter Boy. I know, we’re all amped. Everyone here wants to kill Moose Man really really bad, but plans for villainy aren’t until item 6; check your itinerary. So why don’t you take a few power breaths, collect your thoughts, and continue.

ALTER BOY
[annoyed] Fine. I am Alter Boy; the Catholic Shape Shifter-

Dungeon Master and Cpt. Yo-Yo burst out laughing.

ALTER BOY
-THE CATHOLIC SHAPE SHIFTER, AND THROUGH MENTAL PRAYER, LORD, MAKE ME AN INSTURMENT OF THY PEACE, IN JESUS NAME KILL MOOSE MAN AMEN.

Alter Boy sits down quickly.

GREG
Thank you, Alter Boy. That had a lot of goodness. Let’s see. Captain Yo-Yo! You’ve been hot-desking with Dungeon Master a lot today. Why don’t you stand up and tell us about yourself?

CPT. YO-YO
Hey, Greg. Why don't you fuck off?

GREG
‘Scuse me?

CPT. YO-YO
My name ain’t Captain Yo-Yo. It’s Captain Yo-Yo, the Jr. Spin Champion of Oklahoma City. You gotta say the whole thing, otherwise you sound as gay as Mr. down-on-your-knees over here.

DUNGEON MASTER
Hey-O.

ALTER BOY
I’m not going to sit here and pretend to understand what that’s supposed to mean, Mr., Mr., whoever-that-long-named-singer-man-lady-person-from-the-90’s-was. Mr. Long Name. Uh…purple rain!

DUNGEON MASTER
What?

CPT. YO-YO
Prince? Are you trying to talk about Prince?

DUNGEON MASTER
Jesus Christ you suck.

ALTER BOY
Hey, hold thy tongue, Dungeon Master! Why don’t you go back to your mom’s basement which is where your dungeon lair is. Probably.

DUNGEON MASTER
Yeah, that’s right. My mom’s basement is my dungeon. And her bedroom is my sex dungeon; where I butt-fucked Jesus.

CPT. YO-YO
OH SNAP! That’s what up!

ALTER BOY
Wh-wh-…

DUNGEON MASTER
Pwned.

CPT. YO-YO
Villainous!

ALTER BOY
Greg!

GREG
I’m sorry, Alter Boy, but I’m going to have to go ahead and agree with Cpt. Yo-Yo that what Dungeon Master said was quite villainous.

CPT. YO-YO
Mmhmm, yeah. That’s what he said! How's my dick taste, son?!

ALTER BOY
Hey, Why are they even here?! I can shape shift, for gosh’s sake! They don’t even have any powers!

CPT. YO-YO
Hey hey hey hey woah woah…wait a sec. Don’t you go comparing Captain Yo-Yo, Jr. Spin Champion of Oklahoma City with dime store Kevin Smith over there. I got powers. Check it!

Cpt. Yo-Yo starts to stand up, first by taking his feet off the table

DUNGEON MASTER
[to Alter Boy] Where do you get off saying I don’t have any powers, you little butt nut?

CPT. YO-YO
Boom!

Cpt. Yo-Yo spreads his arms, brandishes his bandolier of yo-yos, and opens his hands. Several yo-yos (4) unfurl and land on the table.

CPT. YO-YO
Yo, what’s good now, son?! Ever been smacked upside the dome with one of these?! I don’t think so! This shit hurt more than suckin' on Johnny Law's night stick, feel me ya pussay ass bi-otch?

DUNGEON MASTER
Why the fuck are you even here? Why would some newb like you ever try to be a super villain?

CPT. YO-YO
Yo I got yo-yo weapons, yo-yo traps…

ALTER BOY
They say we alter boys live dangerous lives…

Dungeon Master and Cpt. Yo-Yo speak at the same time

CPT. YO-YO
Whaaaaaaaa….

DUNGEON MASTER
Man, that is such total bullshit. I bet my BangBus subscription that you've never even seen that movie.

GREG
This is good, people. This is a really good robust dialogue going on. I can feel the synergy. I’m gonna give this part just a few more minutes but then we are really gonna wanna move on to item 3 in our itinerary -which I believe is…Our Scarred, Emotional Pasts- if we want to make it out of the library before it closes.

CPT. YO-YO
Yo, fuck the eye-tinrary! Let’s just jump that motherfucking moose and ice his ass. I. Don’t. Give. A. FUCK! I’ve kilt bikers, I’ve kilt jump ropers, I totally fuckin’ dropped this one bitch on a Skip-It…

DUNGEON MASTER
I’ve got my stepdad’s car outside. I guess we could run him over or something. I don’t care if that car gets dented; I hate Steve.

ALTER BOY
I could shape shift into a baby lamb as a distraction. That could work!

OTHER THREE MEN
[silence]

GREG
Jeeze, this is like herding cats. OK, guys. I'm gonna be above-board for a sec. I think our main problem here is agreeance. We need to be proactive. Let's start a dialogue and air it out. No more of this imagineering on how to kill Moose Man when I’ve got a 57-point slide show on exactly how to do it. The first step: understanding ourselves. And each other.

CPT. YO-YO
[disillusioned] Yo, alright, that’s it. Captain Yo-Yo, Jr. Spin Champion of Oklahoma City ‘bout to peace the fuck on out of here. So, so long, douche, Mr. Kevin Smith, Pride Parade over here; I’m ‘bout to ride out on my yo-yo-nicycle. Maybe rob a bank, pick up some bomb-ass hoola hoop pussy, you know, whatevers down by the boardwalk. So uh…don’t none of you hacks follow me, or try to evil around with me ever again. Aiight. Peace!

Cpt. Yo-Yo flips a hardcore peace sign and swaggers out of the room.

DUNGEON MASTER
Yo-yo-nicycle?

GREG
I’m not quite sure what that is either.

DUNGEON MASTER
A yo-yo unicycle?

GREG
[chuckles] What a spark plug.

DUNGEON MASTER
How would he even sit? How is that physically possible?

ALTER BOY
I bet it’s like this loooong [demonstrating with arms] piece of string that sticks straight up in the air that you sit on and it hurts. Ew. That would be awful.

DUNGEON MASTER
Oh, who are you fooling? We know you think that sounds delicious.

ALTER BOY
[praying] Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi, dona nobis tyrannosaurus rex.

DUNGEON MASTER
What are you doing?

ALTER BOY
[still praying] Shape shifting into a dinosaur so I can bite your face off.

DUNGEON MASTER
Now, are you shape shifting into a pre- or post- great flood T-rex? Because Noah totally had them on his boat, and, I just want to know-

ALTER BOY
Shut up.

DUNGEON MASTER
-if I should be worried or not. ‘Cause, pre-great flood T-rex had no immunities to human diseases-

ALTER BOY
Shut up!

DUNGEON MASTER
-so I could just kill them with a sneeze or something like that.

ALTER BOY
Fuck you!

GREG
Yeah…and I think on that note, at least for right now, we’re done. Good meeting, gang. Seriously. Very proactive.