Tuesday, April 10, 2007


Walking misunderstandings, god its just to easy. Easy to talk and say the things in the sentence structure of choice, in the tones and shades and "intention". As far as actual meanings go their always a little battered and jet lagged when they come out on the other end of the thunderous fights and conversations. By then their too tired to maintain an erection and too fucked up mentally to be of any help at all. So many I don't knows. So many dramatic pauses, its fucking choking human communication. Stifling the flow of the great late night discussion.

In the end it only takes the one whatever or the ever popular fuck off to get the final point across. By then their halfway out the door and you are left thinking what the fuck? All your fucking actuallys and no no your not listenings are pale and forgotten. By then its time for bed or another drink and by then its far to late for the magical but quite elusive sorry.

Talking is so much fucking trouble….bah. At least here you cant pick up on the underhanded speech patterns and sarcastic breathy style. At least when your typing you can say whatever the fuck you want without the interjections of a noble yet highly stupid know it all mind. Hmm. My favorite mind. They have to wait for the end. For the period. Or they can click that tiny fucking X up in the corner there and be done with the whole deal. Then its just finished mista' finished [clapping hands together]

Im feeling hurt is all, not because ive been handed my pride or anything but because I have a horrible way of communicating. Its starting to bug me, and im sure it also bugs the people in the hairs. Im feeling this weird thing like guilt but more of a ah shit, im a fucking ignorant/selfish person thing. Im way too assholish and I come across splendidly with it and at the most brilliant times. Lucky me. See you didn't here that did you? You couldn't feel the sigh. I fucking swear I don't mean to be so goddamn hard to deal with sometimes. But im a little to colored and passionate for my own overall good. Or at least my logics good. I can almost feel the slight kicks in the head that I give myself, the foot in mouth charades my mind tries to send me frantically as I make a straight idiot spectacle of myself, and my ego. When I know im being unreasonable but im to fired up to do anything but point fingers and mind the splinters on my soapbox. My focus is never at on the topic. Its always more of a how can I make this seem so much worse than it is? How can I make this screeeeam im important. Fucking shit. Wow. Im a fucking prick.

I saw grindhouse today. The first part, the little "previews" were pretty fucking funny. Makes me want to go hug an angry hispanic and tell him to rebel, rebel like he means it, don't take shit from blue eyes and never cut another lawn again. "you just fucked with the wrong Mexican" hmm. Priceless. Rodriguez, oy, his part was magical. Brilliance if I should be able to say so. You would think that movies about zombies and mass hysteria are played, but this little bitch held her own. There was no intermission for us addicts to smoke to, but we went out anyway for the second round o' "previews" Despite missing the knife insert on the naked broad on the trampoline it was fun stuff… we ended up catching the girl on the table trussed like a turkey and then getting her dead head fucked. Yea, I know. Get that look off your face. Sure it was lewd but entertaining. until the Tarantino part. now look here, I know Quentin is a fuckin genius, im not here to bash the man, he can write an elephant to sleepy happy land, but this was a bit much. Too much dialogue and blatant sexuality can be fun mind you, but not at this level and not when its fucking the plot in the ass more than aiding it. Kurt Russell, man, good fucking job at being creepy, it works for ya, and you got a lost reel lap dance out of it, but hell. What else was there? A few great shots of high speed antics and some nailbiting moments of stoned/drunk girl goodness and the movie was over. That's me skipping the fucking hour and a half of chitter in the restaurants and wondering why the one girl was in a cheerleading outfit. [which was explained, and then thoroughly abandoned]. Fuck! The last two hours of the movie was me like run them off the road already, or shut the fuck up already, or she aint pretty no more but wheres the satisfaction? And yes I am a movie critique but more for recreation that serious film notes. Don't mind me.

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