Friday, April 30, 2004
Hey peoples, it's me again. Sadly, I'm not enjoying my night thusfar, because I'm stuck at home.
*sigh*
Oh, well. Last night was assuredly awesome for two reasons:
1) I saw a very good show, going by the name of "Godspell"
2) I've actually got a date for the prom now! (And I couldn't ask for a better one.)
3) I got to sleep early.
4) Hey, didn't I say two reasons?
Tonight, however, I'm under "house arrest" even though I'm not actually in trouble. Time to play Contra and read some web comics. Speaking of webcomics, it's time for my first in a series of critiques. The following is barely half-serious, but asserts my awesomeness.
Ok, the first type of webcomic I'd like to poke fun at is the "sprite" comic. This is basically a comic made from the sprites of old video games. By far, this type of comic requires the least amount of skill and effort. The parody I prepared took less than a half hour to make, and while it is a little half-assed, it beats the shit out of some of the stuff that's out there. 8-bit theater is actually a funny comic, but a certain sprite-based comic really pisses me off with it's idiocy. It's a really lame, stupid comic that uses none other than Megaman as its main character. Perhaps you've heard of it or had the displeasure of reading it? Well, it sucks ass.
Here's why:
The comic is unimaginative and stupid. The following is a fairly accurate depiction of a strip (it's pracitically plagiarism.)
(View it widescreen here.)
Why it sucks: Don't get me wrong, pointless can be funny. "Men In Hats" is a testament to that. This isn't even clever. No where near clever. It's stupid, pointless, and insultingly lame. The creators of comics like this should be shot.
Err, myself excluded, of course. This is a parody.
Here's my version of the very same comic:
(View it widescreen here.)
Do I have to explain why this kicks so much more ass? First off, it's violent. We all know what people want to see. I deliver it, right away, without delay.
My megaman is also wearing armor, because armor is cool.
Another reason my comic is awesome is that I cut out all the bullshit. The story is simple: Megaman is being a whiny bitch and Protoman has to shut him the hell up. 'Nuff said, move on. THAT's a story.
That's the other thing that makes my comic great: Protoman is awesome. First he busts in, pissed off and ready to go (he knows something's going down), and then he instantly lays down the law for "little boy blue." That's right, Big Daddy P isn't taking shit from anybody, not today, not when there's ice cream on the line.
Also, while he's flash-frying Megaman's face, Protoman completely nukes the ice cream. This is awesome because it shows just how cool he is. You think he's fighting to protect his ice cream, but then he shatters your expectations by zapping it and not giving a shit.
He just doesn't give a shit. So cool.
He doesn't care about the ice cream, the ice cream isn't important. The important thing about HIS icecream is that some little blue punk thinks he can take it. Not today, Jack. Protoman isn't having that. He's got too much pride. No one fucks with Protoman and his ice cream, no one that doesn't want a hole in his head. Challenging this authority is a direct insult to Protoman, and an attack on his manhood.
So what does Protoman do? He obliterates everything in sight and strikes a pose, because he's the man and he knows it. Protoman rules.
Well, that concludes my first 'lil experiment. Leave some comments so I know whether this is amusing or if I should just stop right now. I don't want to put more time into these stupid things if no one likes them.
Ah, screw it. I'll likely do it anyway. I still would like some feedback though.
Current Mood: . . . so cool.
Current Music: Megaman techno!
. . . Not really, but it'd be appropriate, eh?
NOTE: Geocities sucks. After editing and re-editing this post multiple times, I discovered that any image hosted on geocities MUST REMAIN ON A GEOCITIES PAGE in accordance with geocities policy. What the crap? I moved my images to angelfire and everything worked fine. Geocities is an asshole.
. . . And don't fuck with Protoman.
|
*sigh*
Oh, well. Last night was assuredly awesome for two reasons:
1) I saw a very good show, going by the name of "Godspell"
2) I've actually got a date for the prom now! (And I couldn't ask for a better one.)
3) I got to sleep early.
4) Hey, didn't I say two reasons?
Tonight, however, I'm under "house arrest" even though I'm not actually in trouble. Time to play Contra and read some web comics. Speaking of webcomics, it's time for my first in a series of critiques. The following is barely half-serious, but asserts my awesomeness.
Ok, the first type of webcomic I'd like to poke fun at is the "sprite" comic. This is basically a comic made from the sprites of old video games. By far, this type of comic requires the least amount of skill and effort. The parody I prepared took less than a half hour to make, and while it is a little half-assed, it beats the shit out of some of the stuff that's out there. 8-bit theater is actually a funny comic, but a certain sprite-based comic really pisses me off with it's idiocy. It's a really lame, stupid comic that uses none other than Megaman as its main character. Perhaps you've heard of it or had the displeasure of reading it? Well, it sucks ass.
Here's why:
The comic is unimaginative and stupid. The following is a fairly accurate depiction of a strip (it's pracitically plagiarism.)
(View it widescreen here.)
Why it sucks: Don't get me wrong, pointless can be funny. "Men In Hats" is a testament to that. This isn't even clever. No where near clever. It's stupid, pointless, and insultingly lame. The creators of comics like this should be shot.
Err, myself excluded, of course. This is a parody.
Here's my version of the very same comic:
(View it widescreen here.)
Do I have to explain why this kicks so much more ass? First off, it's violent. We all know what people want to see. I deliver it, right away, without delay.
My megaman is also wearing armor, because armor is cool.
Another reason my comic is awesome is that I cut out all the bullshit. The story is simple: Megaman is being a whiny bitch and Protoman has to shut him the hell up. 'Nuff said, move on. THAT's a story.
That's the other thing that makes my comic great: Protoman is awesome. First he busts in, pissed off and ready to go (he knows something's going down), and then he instantly lays down the law for "little boy blue." That's right, Big Daddy P isn't taking shit from anybody, not today, not when there's ice cream on the line.
Also, while he's flash-frying Megaman's face, Protoman completely nukes the ice cream. This is awesome because it shows just how cool he is. You think he's fighting to protect his ice cream, but then he shatters your expectations by zapping it and not giving a shit.
He just doesn't give a shit. So cool.
He doesn't care about the ice cream, the ice cream isn't important. The important thing about HIS icecream is that some little blue punk thinks he can take it. Not today, Jack. Protoman isn't having that. He's got too much pride. No one fucks with Protoman and his ice cream, no one that doesn't want a hole in his head. Challenging this authority is a direct insult to Protoman, and an attack on his manhood.
So what does Protoman do? He obliterates everything in sight and strikes a pose, because he's the man and he knows it. Protoman rules.
Well, that concludes my first 'lil experiment. Leave some comments so I know whether this is amusing or if I should just stop right now. I don't want to put more time into these stupid things if no one likes them.
Ah, screw it. I'll likely do it anyway. I still would like some feedback though.
Current Mood: . . . so cool.
Current Music: Megaman techno!
. . . Not really, but it'd be appropriate, eh?
NOTE: Geocities sucks. After editing and re-editing this post multiple times, I discovered that any image hosted on geocities MUST REMAIN ON A GEOCITIES PAGE in accordance with geocities policy. What the crap? I moved my images to angelfire and everything worked fine. Geocities is an asshole.
. . . And don't fuck with Protoman.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
I think it's time for a random update made for no real purpose whatsoever.
Why bother? Well, because it's my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want.
That's why.
Hahaha, behold my wasteful tendencies!
Your time, like my space, is being wasted away into nothing. HAHA!
Yeah. Sometimes I just feel like posting for the sake of posting. Something to look forward to:
I'll be doing a lil' rant on webcomics, and if I can manage to get it running despite my lack of a moveable-type blog, it'll be complete with images. Isn't that nifty? I'd expect the post by this weekend. In the meantime, here's a list of things every person should do.
1) Go watch Sockbaby before I punch you in the face.
2) Leave me with lots of comments.
3) Write a script for parent night or for Channel101
4) Click on that handy award in the upper-righthand corner of this page. It will take you to the greatest website ever created by a Polack. From there, you can follow the blog-circuit and pry into the lives of everyone! Whee!
5) Kill a kitten. No, not that way. Ok, fine. Whatever makes you happy . . .
Current mood: Meh. This is getting repetitive.
Current Music: mmmmmmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm
Tee hee, my monitor hums. You have to sit real quiet to hear it.
|
Why bother? Well, because it's my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want.
That's why.
Hahaha, behold my wasteful tendencies!
Your time, like my space, is being wasted away into nothing. HAHA!
Yeah. Sometimes I just feel like posting for the sake of posting. Something to look forward to:
I'll be doing a lil' rant on webcomics, and if I can manage to get it running despite my lack of a moveable-type blog, it'll be complete with images. Isn't that nifty? I'd expect the post by this weekend. In the meantime, here's a list of things every person should do.
1) Go watch Sockbaby before I punch you in the face.
2) Leave me with lots of comments.
3) Write a script for parent night or for Channel101
4) Click on that handy award in the upper-righthand corner of this page. It will take you to the greatest website ever created by a Polack. From there, you can follow the blog-circuit and pry into the lives of everyone! Whee!
5) Kill a kitten. No, not that way. Ok, fine. Whatever makes you happy . . .
Current mood: Meh. This is getting repetitive.
Current Music: mmmmmmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm
Tee hee, my monitor hums. You have to sit real quiet to hear it.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
I haven't really "ranted" in a long while, partly because I've been in a good mood and partly because I dislike appearing to be a Maddox rip-off, but I feel compelled to release some pent-up aggression on a topic rather close to the heart:
The administration at Holyoke Catholic can kiss my ass.
Yes, I've been censored again, as you may have guessed. I will spare the details of my recent, comparatively trivial rejection and instead focus on the plight of some friends: Yes, the junior retreat.
I recall beginning one especially cheerful Monday morning by digesting a script, handed to me by my good friend and intellectually sound compatriot, Richard. I found the script to be rather enjoyable, for while much of the humor was recycled, it was on the whole rather appropriate in its familiarity and classical joy; the structure and impact of the piece as uplifiting and reminiscent showcasing the true originality of the . . . bla, bla, bla.
I liked it.
So far as I could see, not an ounce of it was destructive, overly pointless, or even offensive. It was Rich's writing at a wonderful level in which his humor was subdued but not lost to the confining expectations of the concentration camp we call High School.
Regardless of the tame and subtle nature of an entertaining peice that refused to commit an overabundance of wit (that's offensive, as we all know), the work was rejected. Completely.
Not altered, rejected.
I'm not involved, I'm not involved, I'm not involved.
But I'm pissed.
I'm pissed because outside of the English classroom, there is not an ounce of creativity or originality to be found in our school that is not carefully scrutinized or squelched. I will say this once.
I will say this once and only once.
Aside from minor changes to curb the offensive,
I will not allow my work to be censored, softened, or abridged. I will sooner have my writing destroyed than "toned down" or meticulously "improved" for the sake of "relevancy." Should such a conflict arise, resulting in the restriction of my creativity, I will abandon the project.
End of story.
I apologize if that may have seemed overly zealous, but I don't want there to be any surprise if I suddenly show up at school with steel-toed boots and start kicking random faculty members in the face.
On a lighter note, I've finished the scripts for the first four episodes of a possible show to be submitted for Channel101.com. It's the standard love story:
Boy meets girl.
Boy loses girl.
Boy retrieves girl from grave and attempts to carry on a relationship despite the interference of monsters, the police, and a team of semi-inept zombie hunters.
You know you love it. I'm proud of the random nature of the work and the cliche brillance of its humor. Above all, however, I'm quite pleased with how blatantly offensive it is, despite the ommission of any actual sex scenes. It's just an idea to kick around, which is why I won't go beyond five episodes, so I can't assume it will ever go into production. I'll be passing around the scripts in school tommorow, if anyone would like laugh a very guilty laugh.
Perverse and morbid humor makes the world go around.
Or it makes the world grind to a screeching halt. Either way, I win.
Still considering the prom via a personal afterthought. Anyone know of a really desperate girl with an IQ over 10?
Current Mood: Calm . . . calm . . . find your center . . . ah, there we go.
Current Music: Uhh . . . "The sounds of the keyboard?"
|
The administration at Holyoke Catholic can kiss my ass.
Yes, I've been censored again, as you may have guessed. I will spare the details of my recent, comparatively trivial rejection and instead focus on the plight of some friends: Yes, the junior retreat.
I recall beginning one especially cheerful Monday morning by digesting a script, handed to me by my good friend and intellectually sound compatriot, Richard. I found the script to be rather enjoyable, for while much of the humor was recycled, it was on the whole rather appropriate in its familiarity and classical joy; the structure and impact of the piece as uplifiting and reminiscent showcasing the true originality of the . . . bla, bla, bla.
I liked it.
So far as I could see, not an ounce of it was destructive, overly pointless, or even offensive. It was Rich's writing at a wonderful level in which his humor was subdued but not lost to the confining expectations of the concentration camp we call High School.
Regardless of the tame and subtle nature of an entertaining peice that refused to commit an overabundance of wit (that's offensive, as we all know), the work was rejected. Completely.
Not altered, rejected.
I'm not involved, I'm not involved, I'm not involved.
But I'm pissed.
I'm pissed because outside of the English classroom, there is not an ounce of creativity or originality to be found in our school that is not carefully scrutinized or squelched. I will say this once.
I will say this once and only once.
Aside from minor changes to curb the offensive,
I will not allow my work to be censored, softened, or abridged. I will sooner have my writing destroyed than "toned down" or meticulously "improved" for the sake of "relevancy." Should such a conflict arise, resulting in the restriction of my creativity, I will abandon the project.
End of story.
I apologize if that may have seemed overly zealous, but I don't want there to be any surprise if I suddenly show up at school with steel-toed boots and start kicking random faculty members in the face.
On a lighter note, I've finished the scripts for the first four episodes of a possible show to be submitted for Channel101.com. It's the standard love story:
Boy meets girl.
Boy loses girl.
Boy retrieves girl from grave and attempts to carry on a relationship despite the interference of monsters, the police, and a team of semi-inept zombie hunters.
You know you love it. I'm proud of the random nature of the work and the cliche brillance of its humor. Above all, however, I'm quite pleased with how blatantly offensive it is, despite the ommission of any actual sex scenes. It's just an idea to kick around, which is why I won't go beyond five episodes, so I can't assume it will ever go into production. I'll be passing around the scripts in school tommorow, if anyone would like laugh a very guilty laugh.
Perverse and morbid humor makes the world go around.
Or it makes the world grind to a screeching halt. Either way, I win.
Still considering the prom via a personal afterthought. Anyone know of a really desperate girl with an IQ over 10?
Current Mood: Calm . . . calm . . . find your center . . . ah, there we go.
Current Music: Uhh . . . "The sounds of the keyboard?"
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Comments are great, but sometimes it's easy to get over-anxious and actually expect to find some . . . and face the crushing dissapointment of reality.
An update on "Kill Bill," courtesy of Jake:
Apparently, the movie kicks ass because one scene was changed to B&W because it was so violent that the rating would have been changed to NC-17 if it was left in color. Apparently, Tarantino decided to change his movie to maintain his "R" rating, making the movie so edgy it needed to be "toned down."
Am I supposed to be impressed? "Mr. Independent," the great QT "toned down" his movie simply to meet the standards of a mainstream rating system? You've got to be kidding me! I had assumed that Tarantino's reasons for doing the scene in B&W were either artistic or financial (hey, it looked cheaper, it logically would have been cheaper), not THIS. QT sacrificed a little bit of his integrity as a director and I'm supposed to think it's awesome? Yeah, I'm totally shocked into a state of awe and admiration for the man I respected so much. A person who spoke out against mainstream film and rocked the independent market suddenly decides to cheapen his work to maintain his audience. Yeah . . .
REAL FUCKING IMPRESSIVE.
Welcome to hell, Mr. Tarantino. You'll find George Lucas and Steven Spielberg to the left, enjoying some digitally-enhanced sodomy. Go ahead and join in for a few hours. Then, we're all going to go colorize some old films and remake some classics.
>_<
If you want the love of Tony:
Don't fuck with film.
Don't fuck with literature.
In other news, I've finally got money again. Shedding some sweat and blood (lots of blood) for my father has yielded me more under-the-table business to keep me going. I can even afford multiple proms with ease.
If I wanted to.
I'm now reconsidering the senior prom. To be honest, it's a really expensive waste of time. A regular waste of time (senior retreat) I can deal with, but I'm not into wasting my money to waste my time.
As if it weren't bad enough that my mom taunts me for not bringing a date, she raises a sound point that maybe a prom isn't any fun without a date. By that logic, which is quite sound, it's a waste of time and money. I could buy a sword with that money, and have way more fun. On top of that, I won't get away with dressing as a bishop and bringing a small boy with me, so what's to look forward to?
A lot of money spent on mediocre food, terrible music (I fucking hate my generation. No one has any goddam taste in music anymore.), and a bunch of time spent being ignored by other people completely absorbed by their dates . . . or themselves, as the case may be. The only people worth talking to are the ones that don't have dates, all of which are feeling rather depressed for some inexplicable reason and want to go home. If I'm only interacting with the other people without dates, I see no need to spend money. I can sit at home and make origami cranes or something else that's more stimulating and entertaining.
So, there's my bitter little mini-rant.
FYI, I'm not pissy or sad about it. I really just don't want to go, and I'm bitching about highschool events in general. Time to move on, methinks.
Vacation is finally at an end, as I'm sure so many of you needed to be reminded. All and all I had a fairly fun-filled week; I was able to see a good cluster of people, in spite of the mass-deportation of the Irish this last week. I hope they've all sobered up by now, that jet lag is a bitch. It'll be good to see them all again.
Now, the list of love. Thanks to all of these people for making my vacation great:
Will
Pawel
EJ
Jess
Becky
Steph (late in the game, but you still helped make my weel. :D )
Merr
Caitlin
Rich
Sam
Trisha (Only conversationalist left after Rocky Horror lets out)
Jake
Voices in my head
And anyone I talked to our saw over the break.
Thank you for being you.
PS. Will D never stopped by for my special Ninja services (No, not a euphemism for cheap gay sex, you sick-o). Offer's still open, there's always time for sword-sharpening.
Current Mood: Very pleased, but ready for a good night's sleep.
Current Music: Ok, you know what? I'm going to put something right now. Here we are, I'm now listening to "Tank!" by the Seatbelts.
. . . Ok, not really. I lied. I'm not listening to anything.
|
An update on "Kill Bill," courtesy of Jake:
Apparently, the movie kicks ass because one scene was changed to B&W because it was so violent that the rating would have been changed to NC-17 if it was left in color. Apparently, Tarantino decided to change his movie to maintain his "R" rating, making the movie so edgy it needed to be "toned down."
Am I supposed to be impressed? "Mr. Independent," the great QT "toned down" his movie simply to meet the standards of a mainstream rating system? You've got to be kidding me! I had assumed that Tarantino's reasons for doing the scene in B&W were either artistic or financial (hey, it looked cheaper, it logically would have been cheaper), not THIS. QT sacrificed a little bit of his integrity as a director and I'm supposed to think it's awesome? Yeah, I'm totally shocked into a state of awe and admiration for the man I respected so much. A person who spoke out against mainstream film and rocked the independent market suddenly decides to cheapen his work to maintain his audience. Yeah . . .
REAL FUCKING IMPRESSIVE.
Welcome to hell, Mr. Tarantino. You'll find George Lucas and Steven Spielberg to the left, enjoying some digitally-enhanced sodomy. Go ahead and join in for a few hours. Then, we're all going to go colorize some old films and remake some classics.
>_<
If you want the love of Tony:
Don't fuck with film.
Don't fuck with literature.
In other news, I've finally got money again. Shedding some sweat and blood (lots of blood) for my father has yielded me more under-the-table business to keep me going. I can even afford multiple proms with ease.
If I wanted to.
I'm now reconsidering the senior prom. To be honest, it's a really expensive waste of time. A regular waste of time (senior retreat) I can deal with, but I'm not into wasting my money to waste my time.
As if it weren't bad enough that my mom taunts me for not bringing a date, she raises a sound point that maybe a prom isn't any fun without a date. By that logic, which is quite sound, it's a waste of time and money. I could buy a sword with that money, and have way more fun. On top of that, I won't get away with dressing as a bishop and bringing a small boy with me, so what's to look forward to?
A lot of money spent on mediocre food, terrible music (I fucking hate my generation. No one has any goddam taste in music anymore.), and a bunch of time spent being ignored by other people completely absorbed by their dates . . . or themselves, as the case may be. The only people worth talking to are the ones that don't have dates, all of which are feeling rather depressed for some inexplicable reason and want to go home. If I'm only interacting with the other people without dates, I see no need to spend money. I can sit at home and make origami cranes or something else that's more stimulating and entertaining.
So, there's my bitter little mini-rant.
FYI, I'm not pissy or sad about it. I really just don't want to go, and I'm bitching about highschool events in general. Time to move on, methinks.
Vacation is finally at an end, as I'm sure so many of you needed to be reminded. All and all I had a fairly fun-filled week; I was able to see a good cluster of people, in spite of the mass-deportation of the Irish this last week. I hope they've all sobered up by now, that jet lag is a bitch. It'll be good to see them all again.
Now, the list of love. Thanks to all of these people for making my vacation great:
Will
Pawel
EJ
Jess
Becky
Steph (late in the game, but you still helped make my weel. :D )
Merr
Caitlin
Rich
Sam
Trisha (Only conversationalist left after Rocky Horror lets out)
Jake
Voices in my head
And anyone I talked to our saw over the break.
Thank you for being you.
PS. Will D never stopped by for my special Ninja services (No, not a euphemism for cheap gay sex, you sick-o). Offer's still open, there's always time for sword-sharpening.
Current Mood: Very pleased, but ready for a good night's sleep.
Current Music: Ok, you know what? I'm going to put something right now. Here we are, I'm now listening to "Tank!" by the Seatbelts.
. . . Ok, not really. I lied. I'm not listening to anything.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Well, I just finished watching "Kill Bill, " the now-infamous QT film. What I'm about to say my frighten or even upset some people.
I was somewhat disappointed.
Now, now, CALM DOWN! There is no need to riot yet. The reason I was dissapointed was . . . well, here's my synop:
STORYLINE:
The plot was incredibly simple and easily to follow. Well detailed with just a couple of symbols for those of the Lit-Ex persuasion to raise an eyebrow at, everything was pretty straightforward and nothing was all that complex. To be honest, that's what I wanted and expected. No problems here.
Except the fact that one of the most crucial elements of the plot was withheld until AFTER the end. Yes, the one single bit of knowledge that justifies and explains everything that happens in the movie is ever-so-conviently placed long after the credits have finished rolling. Sorry, QT. This movie was a mediocre slug-fest, NOT "The Passion of the Christ." No one with an IQ over 10 is staying in the theater that long unless they're stuck in the seat.
. . . That's a great promotional idea . . . fly paper on the seats. . . .
ACTING:
First problem is in acting. Seeing Lucy Liu trying to "play angry" is pretty sad. She's not a very good actress, in my opinion. I honestly think she was chosen for the role simply because
1) She's hot.
2) She's asian.
3) She's a well-known actress that the American people easily recognize.
Uma wasn't too bad, the general acting of everyone fit the mood of the film. There was little emotional diversity, perfectly acceptable in such a movie, but the point is this:
A less skilled director and some poor actors could have turned this movie into another "Underworld."
By the way, I hear those fuckers are making a sequel. If anyone would like to take the initiative to take them out, I assure you that your reward will be great in heaven. Do not see the movie, you'll just encourage and fund more shitty cinema.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
MOVIE MAGIC:
Yup, fighting is the first thing to come to mind. Here comes the magic word, kids: "mediocre." Yes, some of it was decent and made me cheerfully recall the old "Fists of Fury" martial arts movies, but it really should have been better. Camera angles added a little zest, but the near-comical blood play (Anyone seen "Ninja Scroll?" The blood loss was even less realistic in "Kill Bill.") and B-Movie quality injuries cheapened a film that was already at a "entertainment only" level.
Shooting out of sequence is a QT classic, but it didn't culminate as well as in the legendary "Pulp Fiction."
Bottom line: The movie's mediocre. The thought actually occured to me that QT did this as a joke to show his disgust with the average American movie audience, but whould he take it past the effect of a one-shot?
I'm a big QT fan. I LOVED "Pulp Fiction." The genious of the director just wasn't in this one. Sorry, guys. This movie is best viewed on little sleep, possibly with the aid of mild narcotics, and with a group of friends. Enjoy it as you would a B-movie and you'll occaisionally believe that something you've seen was quite clever and you'll be very happily amused.
I'm going to try to check out the sequel this week. Hopefully, I'll be rewarded with something better. God, please don't dissapoint me again, QT. I really don't think I could take it.
Now, I have to go rent "Pulp Fiction" to restore my faith before it gets crushed again.
Current Mood: Not bad, all things considered.
Current Music: Nope, nada.
|
I was somewhat disappointed.
Now, now, CALM DOWN! There is no need to riot yet. The reason I was dissapointed was . . . well, here's my synop:
STORYLINE:
The plot was incredibly simple and easily to follow. Well detailed with just a couple of symbols for those of the Lit-Ex persuasion to raise an eyebrow at, everything was pretty straightforward and nothing was all that complex. To be honest, that's what I wanted and expected. No problems here.
Except the fact that one of the most crucial elements of the plot was withheld until AFTER the end. Yes, the one single bit of knowledge that justifies and explains everything that happens in the movie is ever-so-conviently placed long after the credits have finished rolling. Sorry, QT. This movie was a mediocre slug-fest, NOT "The Passion of the Christ." No one with an IQ over 10 is staying in the theater that long unless they're stuck in the seat.
. . . That's a great promotional idea . . . fly paper on the seats. . . .
ACTING:
First problem is in acting. Seeing Lucy Liu trying to "play angry" is pretty sad. She's not a very good actress, in my opinion. I honestly think she was chosen for the role simply because
1) She's hot.
2) She's asian.
3) She's a well-known actress that the American people easily recognize.
Uma wasn't too bad, the general acting of everyone fit the mood of the film. There was little emotional diversity, perfectly acceptable in such a movie, but the point is this:
A less skilled director and some poor actors could have turned this movie into another "Underworld."
By the way, I hear those fuckers are making a sequel. If anyone would like to take the initiative to take them out, I assure you that your reward will be great in heaven. Do not see the movie, you'll just encourage and fund more shitty cinema.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
MOVIE MAGIC:
Yup, fighting is the first thing to come to mind. Here comes the magic word, kids: "mediocre." Yes, some of it was decent and made me cheerfully recall the old "Fists of Fury" martial arts movies, but it really should have been better. Camera angles added a little zest, but the near-comical blood play (Anyone seen "Ninja Scroll?" The blood loss was even less realistic in "Kill Bill.") and B-Movie quality injuries cheapened a film that was already at a "entertainment only" level.
Shooting out of sequence is a QT classic, but it didn't culminate as well as in the legendary "Pulp Fiction."
Bottom line: The movie's mediocre. The thought actually occured to me that QT did this as a joke to show his disgust with the average American movie audience, but whould he take it past the effect of a one-shot?
I'm a big QT fan. I LOVED "Pulp Fiction." The genious of the director just wasn't in this one. Sorry, guys. This movie is best viewed on little sleep, possibly with the aid of mild narcotics, and with a group of friends. Enjoy it as you would a B-movie and you'll occaisionally believe that something you've seen was quite clever and you'll be very happily amused.
I'm going to try to check out the sequel this week. Hopefully, I'll be rewarded with something better. God, please don't dissapoint me again, QT. I really don't think I could take it.
Now, I have to go rent "Pulp Fiction" to restore my faith before it gets crushed again.
Current Mood: Not bad, all things considered.
Current Music: Nope, nada.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Whew! What a day!
I awoke early to bring my mother to work, a necessary task as the Jaguar is broken again and Dad was going to the Cape. However, it soon became apparent that Dad was not going anywhere, and I started my day early for no reason at all.
Wonderful.
Never allowed to waste a day, I began to spring clean my room. A fairly simple task, yes? 2, 3 hours at MOST?
8 hours.
8 hours of heavy cleaning. Man, I have a lot of crap.
Now, I am happy to say that not only is the place sparkling, but I have located my floor as well. We can now call off the search party.
The lock has been fixed on the Jeep. Yep, Dad broke it when he was fixing the handle. Everything should be working properly now, thank God.
Oops. Something very bad just happened in the life of Tony while writing this, so I'm going to cut this short.
If friendship dies, did it ever exist? Was it an illusion?
Current Mood:
Current Music:
|
I awoke early to bring my mother to work, a necessary task as the Jaguar is broken again and Dad was going to the Cape. However, it soon became apparent that Dad was not going anywhere, and I started my day early for no reason at all.
Wonderful.
Never allowed to waste a day, I began to spring clean my room. A fairly simple task, yes? 2, 3 hours at MOST?
8 hours.
8 hours of heavy cleaning. Man, I have a lot of crap.
Now, I am happy to say that not only is the place sparkling, but I have located my floor as well. We can now call off the search party.
The lock has been fixed on the Jeep. Yep, Dad broke it when he was fixing the handle. Everything should be working properly now, thank God.
Oops. Something very bad just happened in the life of Tony while writing this, so I'm going to cut this short.
If friendship dies, did it ever exist? Was it an illusion?
Current Mood:
Current Music:
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Fuck . . .
Two posts deleted by human error.
This is what happens when you're tired, kids.
Why am I tired? I'm tired because I was up all night, using my Ninja skills to protect myself from the stranger in my garage. I then worked all day today, finding that even after I fixed the handle on the Jeep, the lock is now broken, so I can't open it.
I did nothing with Captain Polack, Captain Jake, and Merrilee (Recently dubbed "Captain Saturn") which was fun because I'm ready to pass out.
As a result of my exhaustion and my frustration with the non-recoverable deleted posts I created and lost, this will be a short post.
As in, game over.
Current Mood: Tired, but still filled with that great joy I found.
Current Music: thump, thump, oh. That's just my head throbbing. I smashed it against my roll cage.
*NOTE*
All comments are welcome, but if you want to leave a message, leave your fucking name. If you post anonymously, you are not welcome and I will begin deleting comments and blocking IPs. State your identity or go fuck yourself. Thank you.
I have pet peeves too.
|
Two posts deleted by human error.
This is what happens when you're tired, kids.
Why am I tired? I'm tired because I was up all night, using my Ninja skills to protect myself from the stranger in my garage. I then worked all day today, finding that even after I fixed the handle on the Jeep, the lock is now broken, so I can't open it.
I did nothing with Captain Polack, Captain Jake, and Merrilee (Recently dubbed "Captain Saturn") which was fun because I'm ready to pass out.
As a result of my exhaustion and my frustration with the non-recoverable deleted posts I created and lost, this will be a short post.
As in, game over.
Current Mood: Tired, but still filled with that great joy I found.
Current Music: thump, thump, oh. That's just my head throbbing. I smashed it against my roll cage.
*NOTE*
All comments are welcome, but if you want to leave a message, leave your fucking name. If you post anonymously, you are not welcome and I will begin deleting comments and blocking IPs. State your identity or go fuck yourself. Thank you.
I have pet peeves too.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Thanks for that overwhelming flood of comments, guys! *grumble*
Well, well. It looks like it's vacation time. You know what that means, right?
No, not another orgy picnic . . . was there a first? There should have been . . .
No, it's time to make some stupid movies and have lots and lots of fun.
But first, college.
Yes, that's right. I'm visiting colleges over the weekend, so fun is delayed. Slowed, anyway. Things must be done, I suppose.
IF YOU WANT TO HANG OUT THIS WEEK, LEAVE A COMMENT OR CALL ALREADY!
And yes, I will be glad to sharpen swords on the side, I owe some sociology favors.
Also for the comment section, feel free to throw out ideas for blog play subjects. I want to post, but inspiration is . . . caffinated. As a result, I'll do requests.
Underclassmen are awesome. Were you aware? They really are neat. Juniors too. I love those peoples. *sigh* I'll miss you all, I better visit.
Tony: Tee hee, boobies.
God: I said NO orgy picnic!
Tony: Huh? Oh, I know. I was just day-dreaming.
God: About?
Tony: Oh, this and that.
God: I see . . .
Tony: Yep . . .
God: . . .
Tony: . . .
God: So . . .
Tony: Hmm?
God: Wanna go get some bagels?
Tony: Yeah, sure.
Wouldn't it be great if Jesus came out of the closet? Seriously, think about it. How great would that be? How many jaws would drop? All those ignorant pricks that read their Bibles with magnifying glasses and then masturbate with self-satisfaction after soundly affirming their obstinancy to unorthodox thought (The Bible shouldn't be interpreted literally? Blasphemy. God has INFINITE love? Sacriledge. MY interpretation could be incorrect, and the devine might be seperate from its fallible mortal hands? hmm . . .) through mindless blathering of self-laden contradiction that ignores all unfavorable aspects of a book that has been transcribed through mortal hands long after oral tradition has distorted the original message that is then later taylored through multiple interpretations and biased editorialization. Of course, then one must flog oneself with wips and chains for masturbating, but that's another aspect of the Church.
So Jesus announces that he's gay. The world is shocked. Half the south is shitting their pants and Massachussitts suddenly becomes the new garden of Eden.
Then, Jesus admits that he was kidding. Good one, you must admit. Order is restored but the effect has been made . . . the bible beaters were mercilously slaughtered. Yay! Take that, fools.
These fanatics are really just a part of the problem though. People need to think. No one thinks anymore, and this country has turned to shit. We will either all destroy each other, or we will all be the same in a few years. Wide scale slaughter or wide scale conformity . . . it's all death to me.
Fight the future.
It's about time that stupid expression made sense.
Hail Zeon.
Not Zion, Zeon.
Every day, Man loses more and more of his potential. Don't allow it. Live not for comfort, live for struggle. Live for conflict, live for chaos, live for ANARACHY! LIVE FOR PASSION! Joy shall find those that grin at pain and mock difficulty, those that thrive in it. Fight for true freedom; fight for the freedom of the mind. Open your minds to new ideas. Analyze, interpret, discern. Form opinions, then challenge them. Crush them if need be and start again. Never complacent, never unyielding, never submissive . . . such is Zeon. Man must realize its potential, or Man will die. Man will suffer the consequences of sin, the sum of its transgressions, in the form of slow or swift destruction of humanity itself . . . even if the shell remains.
This is the ideology of Zeon. A Mankind of infinite potential lies unreached, who will rise to claim it?
Hail Zeon.
Current Mood: Good, still. Filled with Joy.
Current Music: None. Haven't we covered this?
|
Well, well. It looks like it's vacation time. You know what that means, right?
No, not another orgy picnic . . . was there a first? There should have been . . .
No, it's time to make some stupid movies and have lots and lots of fun.
But first, college.
Yes, that's right. I'm visiting colleges over the weekend, so fun is delayed. Slowed, anyway. Things must be done, I suppose.
IF YOU WANT TO HANG OUT THIS WEEK, LEAVE A COMMENT OR CALL ALREADY!
And yes, I will be glad to sharpen swords on the side, I owe some sociology favors.
Also for the comment section, feel free to throw out ideas for blog play subjects. I want to post, but inspiration is . . . caffinated. As a result, I'll do requests.
Underclassmen are awesome. Were you aware? They really are neat. Juniors too. I love those peoples. *sigh* I'll miss you all, I better visit.
Tony: Tee hee, boobies.
God: I said NO orgy picnic!
Tony: Huh? Oh, I know. I was just day-dreaming.
God: About?
Tony: Oh, this and that.
God: I see . . .
Tony: Yep . . .
God: . . .
Tony: . . .
God: So . . .
Tony: Hmm?
God: Wanna go get some bagels?
Tony: Yeah, sure.
Wouldn't it be great if Jesus came out of the closet? Seriously, think about it. How great would that be? How many jaws would drop? All those ignorant pricks that read their Bibles with magnifying glasses and then masturbate with self-satisfaction after soundly affirming their obstinancy to unorthodox thought (The Bible shouldn't be interpreted literally? Blasphemy. God has INFINITE love? Sacriledge. MY interpretation could be incorrect, and the devine might be seperate from its fallible mortal hands? hmm . . .) through mindless blathering of self-laden contradiction that ignores all unfavorable aspects of a book that has been transcribed through mortal hands long after oral tradition has distorted the original message that is then later taylored through multiple interpretations and biased editorialization. Of course, then one must flog oneself with wips and chains for masturbating, but that's another aspect of the Church.
So Jesus announces that he's gay. The world is shocked. Half the south is shitting their pants and Massachussitts suddenly becomes the new garden of Eden.
Then, Jesus admits that he was kidding. Good one, you must admit. Order is restored but the effect has been made . . . the bible beaters were mercilously slaughtered. Yay! Take that, fools.
These fanatics are really just a part of the problem though. People need to think. No one thinks anymore, and this country has turned to shit. We will either all destroy each other, or we will all be the same in a few years. Wide scale slaughter or wide scale conformity . . . it's all death to me.
Fight the future.
It's about time that stupid expression made sense.
Hail Zeon.
Not Zion, Zeon.
Every day, Man loses more and more of his potential. Don't allow it. Live not for comfort, live for struggle. Live for conflict, live for chaos, live for ANARACHY! LIVE FOR PASSION! Joy shall find those that grin at pain and mock difficulty, those that thrive in it. Fight for true freedom; fight for the freedom of the mind. Open your minds to new ideas. Analyze, interpret, discern. Form opinions, then challenge them. Crush them if need be and start again. Never complacent, never unyielding, never submissive . . . such is Zeon. Man must realize its potential, or Man will die. Man will suffer the consequences of sin, the sum of its transgressions, in the form of slow or swift destruction of humanity itself . . . even if the shell remains.
This is the ideology of Zeon. A Mankind of infinite potential lies unreached, who will rise to claim it?
Hail Zeon.
Current Mood: Good, still. Filled with Joy.
Current Music: None. Haven't we covered this?
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
Ok, after a marvelous epiphany, the fog has lifted again and Tony is back and stronger than ever.
Here are my current projects:
1.) Spirit Week script
2.) NP Inc.
3.) A channel 101 film?
4.) Paradise Lost in fifteen minutes. Extra credit for English, anyone?
5.) Parent's Night
Anyone looking to make any of these happen, let me know. #3 requires a good afternoon to come up with the best, most random title for the movie and a few days of filming/preparing. #4 will be fun, let me know if you're in.
#5 is another afternoon thing. Just need to get together and decide what the hell we're doing. I was thinking the argument and black knight sketches from Monty Python, possibly an attempt at a re-worked Sockbaby parody, and maybe even some original stuff? Leave some thoughts for me in the comment section.
#1 . . . is coming. Get off my ass.
#2 very simply needs material. Take pictures, make movies, draw comics . . . whatever. Send them my way and I'll send them to D. Let's make this dream a reality!
Also still looking for who's available vacation week for a little fun, and who's up for the Rocky Horror Picture Show this saturday.
Leave me some comments, please. I'd like to get this stuff moving. It'll be awesome, I promise. Come on . . . you know you want to.
Current Mood: Awesome! Let's do this stuff!
Current Music: Something motivational, I guess . . . look, who cares? Let's do this stuff!
|
Here are my current projects:
1.) Spirit Week script
2.) NP Inc.
3.) A channel 101 film?
4.) Paradise Lost in fifteen minutes. Extra credit for English, anyone?
5.) Parent's Night
Anyone looking to make any of these happen, let me know. #3 requires a good afternoon to come up with the best, most random title for the movie and a few days of filming/preparing. #4 will be fun, let me know if you're in.
#5 is another afternoon thing. Just need to get together and decide what the hell we're doing. I was thinking the argument and black knight sketches from Monty Python, possibly an attempt at a re-worked Sockbaby parody, and maybe even some original stuff? Leave some thoughts for me in the comment section.
#1 . . . is coming. Get off my ass.
#2 very simply needs material. Take pictures, make movies, draw comics . . . whatever. Send them my way and I'll send them to D. Let's make this dream a reality!
Also still looking for who's available vacation week for a little fun, and who's up for the Rocky Horror Picture Show this saturday.
Leave me some comments, please. I'd like to get this stuff moving. It'll be awesome, I promise. Come on . . . you know you want to.
Current Mood: Awesome! Let's do this stuff!
Current Music: Something motivational, I guess . . . look, who cares? Let's do this stuff!
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Helped with set building for Godspell. Goddam, I love those people. I owe them a big party just for being awesome.
Having a band-aid on my wrist to keep out infections from my minor wound would seem harmless enough, but apparently 'tis not so. Ah well, at least I can clear things up before the rumors start.
Rumors . .
Getting sick of that shit. Are people really so pathetic at HCHS? Are you fools actually that vapid and meaningless?
You'd likely better not answer that.
At least some of you, like the Godspell people, are cool. The rest of you shall taste my blade.
Mmm, blade.
I've been working my little ass off so far, I have to do well this quarter.
Oh, before I forget . . .
WANTED
Writers, graphic artist, webmasters (cough, Damian, cough)
To help make NP Inc a reality.
Also, anyone looking to hang out this summer. I have the house to myself for two weeks, so random parties are a must, and the pad is open for anyone needing to crash. Orgy picnic will be considered. (Sadly, only Rocky Horror people get that one, and I don't think any of them read this thing.)
Anywho, apply within.
Current Mood: GAH! MY HEAD HURTS!
Current Music: TURN THAT SHIT DOWN! I HAVE A HEADACHE, GODDAM IT!
|
Having a band-aid on my wrist to keep out infections from my minor wound would seem harmless enough, but apparently 'tis not so. Ah well, at least I can clear things up before the rumors start.
Rumors . .
Getting sick of that shit. Are people really so pathetic at HCHS? Are you fools actually that vapid and meaningless?
You'd likely better not answer that.
At least some of you, like the Godspell people, are cool. The rest of you shall taste my blade.
Mmm, blade.
I've been working my little ass off so far, I have to do well this quarter.
Oh, before I forget . . .
WANTED
Writers, graphic artist, webmasters (cough, Damian, cough)
To help make NP Inc a reality.
Also, anyone looking to hang out this summer. I have the house to myself for two weeks, so random parties are a must, and the pad is open for anyone needing to crash. Orgy picnic will be considered. (Sadly, only Rocky Horror people get that one, and I don't think any of them read this thing.)
Anywho, apply within.
Current Mood: GAH! MY HEAD HURTS!
Current Music: TURN THAT SHIT DOWN! I HAVE A HEADACHE, GODDAM IT!
Saturday, April 03, 2004
Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow.
Never again shall I ride the wonderful speech bus with my second family. Never again shall I blather on in stream of consciousness (to receive a score.) Drawing nearer is the time of my final farewell to HCHS . . . I have mixed feelings.
On the one hand, I hate a lot of the goddam morons that run that God-awful school. On the other hand, I've grown quite attached to some people. I really doubt any of you know just how much I love you, or how I will miss you.
The evening ended rather anti-climatically, due to the small amount of individuals left on the bus, but it was special none-the-less. We were most certainly in need of a certain big Polack, but such is life. Never a Polack when you need one.
I know it wasn't a final farewell, but saying "good-bye" to speech is a prelogue to my saying "good-bye" to HCHS. So much to do, so much to say, and all I can offer is a hug. Could a hug last an eternity? I swear, I didn't want to let go of some people. I impaciently waited to return home like everyone, but deep down I really wish that ride home could have lasted forever. Deep down, I wish this year could last forever. In order to move on, I'm going to have to kill that part of myself. It's going to hurt.
Current Mood: Pensive and melancholy
Current Music: I'm going to put "Mad World" on right now.
|
Never again shall I ride the wonderful speech bus with my second family. Never again shall I blather on in stream of consciousness (to receive a score.) Drawing nearer is the time of my final farewell to HCHS . . . I have mixed feelings.
On the one hand, I hate a lot of the goddam morons that run that God-awful school. On the other hand, I've grown quite attached to some people. I really doubt any of you know just how much I love you, or how I will miss you.
The evening ended rather anti-climatically, due to the small amount of individuals left on the bus, but it was special none-the-less. We were most certainly in need of a certain big Polack, but such is life. Never a Polack when you need one.
I know it wasn't a final farewell, but saying "good-bye" to speech is a prelogue to my saying "good-bye" to HCHS. So much to do, so much to say, and all I can offer is a hug. Could a hug last an eternity? I swear, I didn't want to let go of some people. I impaciently waited to return home like everyone, but deep down I really wish that ride home could have lasted forever. Deep down, I wish this year could last forever. In order to move on, I'm going to have to kill that part of myself. It's going to hurt.
Current Mood: Pensive and melancholy
Current Music: I'm going to put "Mad World" on right now.
Friday, April 02, 2004
Ok, this post has changed from its original, which I hope no one saw.
I was irked at someone and I communicated it very poorly, effectively directing those feelings at unintended targets. If this was you, I'M SORRY, I'M AN ASSHOLE.
Anywho, to clarify:
My post was not to be taken literally or even seriously. It was a joke, and in fact, a parody of . . . well, nevermind that part. I think it was misunderstood.
The reason for my anger is this:
1) I don't want pity.
2) I don't want my work criticized.
'Nuff said.
This blog is rarely an actual "journal." It's simply one of many creative outlets in which I post my work, publicly. The comments may have been a bad idea, but I have a request.
If you have something to say, put your name on it. I'm being misunderstood for my writings, and I have to defend myself against "anonymous" critics. If you must criticize, please have the decency to state your identity. Otherwise, I accidently group people into one person, and stupid mistakes happen. I don't think that it's an unfair request.
I'll leave the comments up for now, it's too new to get rid of the system. For furture rants, however, please remember the following:
I am aware that people read this.
I keep this impersonal for that reason.
Mostly everything here is for entertainment or expression.
What is offensive is meant to be.
If you do not like it, do not read it. This is my page. Respect that.
People missing my point and assuming something about me from my work irritates me greatly.
Again, I'm afraid that I hurt/offended the wrong person. I hope to God I changed this fast enough. Please forgive me.
Current Mood: I pulled the trigger before I chose the correct target . . .
Current Music: Dammit, hold on . . . ok, the TRANSFORMERS' theme song, from the commercial playing on TV right now. There, it ended.
|
I was irked at someone and I communicated it very poorly, effectively directing those feelings at unintended targets. If this was you, I'M SORRY, I'M AN ASSHOLE.
Anywho, to clarify:
My post was not to be taken literally or even seriously. It was a joke, and in fact, a parody of . . . well, nevermind that part. I think it was misunderstood.
The reason for my anger is this:
1) I don't want pity.
2) I don't want my work criticized.
'Nuff said.
This blog is rarely an actual "journal." It's simply one of many creative outlets in which I post my work, publicly. The comments may have been a bad idea, but I have a request.
If you have something to say, put your name on it. I'm being misunderstood for my writings, and I have to defend myself against "anonymous" critics. If you must criticize, please have the decency to state your identity. Otherwise, I accidently group people into one person, and stupid mistakes happen. I don't think that it's an unfair request.
I'll leave the comments up for now, it's too new to get rid of the system. For furture rants, however, please remember the following:
I am aware that people read this.
I keep this impersonal for that reason.
Mostly everything here is for entertainment or expression.
What is offensive is meant to be.
If you do not like it, do not read it. This is my page. Respect that.
People missing my point and assuming something about me from my work irritates me greatly.
Again, I'm afraid that I hurt/offended the wrong person. I hope to God I changed this fast enough. Please forgive me.
Current Mood: I pulled the trigger before I chose the correct target . . .
Current Music: Dammit, hold on . . . ok, the TRANSFORMERS' theme song, from the commercial playing on TV right now. There, it ended.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Why psychiatrists and guidance counselors suck.
The situation is probable.
The names have been imagined.
Innocence is an illusion as fallible as love.
Tony: Is this really necessary?
Quack: I said, COUGH!
Tony: *Cough*
Quack: Ok, now we can talk about your problems.
Tony: Exactly what was the point of that, then?
Quack: Oh, that was your payment.
Tony: . . . what?!?
Quack: Nevermind, nevermind. Tell me of your troubles.
Tony: Well, I have no self-confidence and my self-esteem needs work.
Quack: Ok, I need you to open up for me.
Tony: Eh?
Quack: Tell me about your childhood.
Tony: I HAVE A FEAR OF SUCCESS!
Quack: Were your parents abusive?
Tony: I AM A LONELY PERSON, STARVED FOR LOVE, THAT POSSESSES LOW SELF-CONFIDENCE AND HAS BOUTS OF DEPRESSION CAUSED BY WHAT COULD BE AN UNBALANCE IN THE BRAIN, ALSO RESPONSIBLE FOR MILD INSANITY, QUITE COMMON IN TODAY'S SOCIETY IN ANY CHILD OVER THE AGE OF FIVE!
Quack: Ok, this is going nowhere.
Tony: I am filled with insecurities and a belief that I'm a useless waste of humanity, worth more dead than alive?
Quack: So, is this somehow related to you wanting to have sex with your mother?
Tony: What the hell is wrong with you? I've just analyzed myself and told you everything that's wrong with me!
Quack: So, do you dream about penises?
Tony: GAH! You Freudian freak! *STABS*
Quack: . . . How does it make you feel when you stab me?
Tony: . . . wonderful, actually.
Quack: See you again next week?
Tony: Sure, sounds wonderful.
Quack: Ok, see you then. Oh!
Tony: Hmmm?
Quack: Can you fill this cup for me?
Tony: Eh?
Quack: I need a sample.
Tony: Why?
Quack: Hey, I'm the doctor here.
Tony: But, you're not THAT kind of . . .
Quack: Take the cup, goddammit!
Tony: Ahhh!
Yeah, they're all like that. Ok, maybe I've never ACTUALLY been to one. Pcha. They're mostly freaks and creepy guys. What was I talking about again? Ah, yes. Lemons. Lemons make excellent party favors. Just be sure to properly lamenate the elf before application.
That's all for today class!
Current Mood: I need a hug. I NEED TO KILL! I need a hug. I NEED TO KILL! I need a cookie. WAFFLES!
Current Music: One day, I'll remember to put on music before I start writing one of these.
|
The situation is probable.
The names have been imagined.
Innocence is an illusion as fallible as love.
Tony: Is this really necessary?
Quack: I said, COUGH!
Tony: *Cough*
Quack: Ok, now we can talk about your problems.
Tony: Exactly what was the point of that, then?
Quack: Oh, that was your payment.
Tony: . . . what?!?
Quack: Nevermind, nevermind. Tell me of your troubles.
Tony: Well, I have no self-confidence and my self-esteem needs work.
Quack: Ok, I need you to open up for me.
Tony: Eh?
Quack: Tell me about your childhood.
Tony: I HAVE A FEAR OF SUCCESS!
Quack: Were your parents abusive?
Tony: I AM A LONELY PERSON, STARVED FOR LOVE, THAT POSSESSES LOW SELF-CONFIDENCE AND HAS BOUTS OF DEPRESSION CAUSED BY WHAT COULD BE AN UNBALANCE IN THE BRAIN, ALSO RESPONSIBLE FOR MILD INSANITY, QUITE COMMON IN TODAY'S SOCIETY IN ANY CHILD OVER THE AGE OF FIVE!
Quack: Ok, this is going nowhere.
Tony: I am filled with insecurities and a belief that I'm a useless waste of humanity, worth more dead than alive?
Quack: So, is this somehow related to you wanting to have sex with your mother?
Tony: What the hell is wrong with you? I've just analyzed myself and told you everything that's wrong with me!
Quack: So, do you dream about penises?
Tony: GAH! You Freudian freak! *STABS*
Quack: . . . How does it make you feel when you stab me?
Tony: . . . wonderful, actually.
Quack: See you again next week?
Tony: Sure, sounds wonderful.
Quack: Ok, see you then. Oh!
Tony: Hmmm?
Quack: Can you fill this cup for me?
Tony: Eh?
Quack: I need a sample.
Tony: Why?
Quack: Hey, I'm the doctor here.
Tony: But, you're not THAT kind of . . .
Quack: Take the cup, goddammit!
Tony: Ahhh!
Yeah, they're all like that. Ok, maybe I've never ACTUALLY been to one. Pcha. They're mostly freaks and creepy guys. What was I talking about again? Ah, yes. Lemons. Lemons make excellent party favors. Just be sure to properly lamenate the elf before application.
That's all for today class!
Current Mood: I need a hug. I NEED TO KILL! I need a hug. I NEED TO KILL! I need a cookie. WAFFLES!
Current Music: One day, I'll remember to put on music before I start writing one of these.
