WINTER BREAK ’06!!

YEAAAA BOIIIIIIIIII



I’m
alive and [un]well. I’m used to
the broken hearts, mascara rivers, and getting screwed over.  Every
relationship I’m in, I fuck it up somehow. I’m tired of getting all
dolled up expecting to see you today, but I always get blown off. I’m
tired of worrying myself sick over nothing. I’m thinking “what did I do
now?” as your voicemail clicks on and off and on and off. As their
words play over and over again in my mind, like a broken record. But
the thought never leaves my head, not even for a second, until I get an
answer. I’m tired of playing guessing games with myself. I have my
phone right beside me, waiting for your name on the Caller ID. Darling,
I’m not making any sense. I put on a fake smile and no one seems to
notice what’s really going on in my skull or maybe they just don’t
care…. My mind is running but more like in place, [kinda how life is]
telling myself the same things over and over even though I know it gets
me nowhere, only deeper and deeper into my own head. I’m sick of the
lies. The lies people tell me to “feel better,” but in reality, only
make me feel worse. Volume goes with the truth, my friend. It’s like
you saying “shake it off and get back in the game, kid. We’re gonna be
okay…” but trailing off in a whisper because you don’t even believe
yourself. Confidence feels strange, but is as warm as the inexperience
that comes with it. “

Clingy psychopath, or is this how chicks really feel?

Apocalypto: Inspired by a True Story of how much a movie can fucking suck

Apocalypto is the worst movie I’ve ever seen.

 

The last time I saw a waste of such epic proportions was
probably The Chronicles of Riddick.

 

This movie sucked roughly 50 billion times more.

 

Mel Gibson couldn’t have made a bigger shitwaste if he
tried. He could have just filmed himself taking a shit for 2 hours and it
wouldn’t have been any fucking worse. If anything, there might actually have
been some symbolism in the act and it might actually have been marginally
better that this fucking waste.

 

Here’s a basic summary of everything that happened:

Group of natives kill a boar, gut it, and laugh at a guy who
is dumb enough to be tricked into eating its balls.

Natives return to village where previous dumbass is again
tricked into causing himself pain and humiliation in the form of rubbing hot
peppers on his dick, proceeding to fuck his wife, and then running around
screaming holding his dick in the middle of the village like an asshole.

Some weird group of natives come in, set village on fire,
and take everyone hostage.

They walk for the next 30 minutes of the film until they
finally get to the big Mayan-esque civilization.

The hostages are painted blue (I don’t know why either), and
then led to be sacrificed on the top of a pyramid one by one. They take one,
spread him out on a rock, cut his beating heart out, decapitate him, throw his
disembodied head down the pyramid, and then throw the body down the pyramid.
This is done three times in succession.

One of the hostages escape, killing the main bad guy’s son
in the process.

Stricken with vengeance, the bad guy and a group of his
cronies chase after the runaway hostage.

In the jungle again, the hostage now is all confident and
begins to kill off each of the bad guys.

End.

 

To tell the truth, the last half hour or so of the film was
actually ok. It was all action oriented and suspenseful. Gory deaths, generally
good stuff. It was just the whole REST of the movie that made me want to rip my
pupils out of my eyeballs.

 

I don’t know why Mel Gibson makes films. I’ve never seen The
Passion, I have no intention to, and I’m pretty sure it sucked ass too. I think
Mel Gibson is just plumb fuck crazy. That’s the only explanation I can muster as to how he
could actually pump out such reeking filth. I can only hope he becomes stricken
with some psychopathic condition that forces him to be locked away in some tiny
padded cell, far far away from a video camera, so innocent movie goers can be
saved from being raped by his cinematic catastrophes.

 

Don’t see Apocalypto.

Today, I shamed myself in front of cretins. Slow witted
boorish morons who wouldn’t know satire if it shit on their face.

“Oh you’ve been gonged LOL!”

Yeah fuck all of you too.

 

Idiots.


“It is often the case that players will simply “drop out” of voice
communication, and if they dropped out for every person on the team
that would be one thing. What actually happens is that a person will
drop out for one or two people, while the rest of the server hears them
beautifully. You run into situations where you need to act as the relay
between two friends who can’t hear one another, which is an
“inconvenience” when armed soldiers are on the prowl. We call that sort
of thing bullshit around here, but we are a cadre of coarse, rugged men who often prefer the company of wild creatures.”

“They’ve managed to create a game where you can be in the same server and still not play with your friends. Where you need to rely on methods just this side of string and empty soup cans to relate some time-sensitive (Goddamn) data
I’ve determined that this isn’t even the most dire result. The worst
thing about it is that it truncates cameraderie: there’s no unified
celebration, and there’s no shared grief.”

“The “upcoming” Rainbow Six patch resolves the voice issues lamented previously,
but actually removes a feature that worked without fail: proximity
voice. This also happens in Halo 2, but the ability to hear nearby
enemies in Rainbow Six is (and this is only a rough estimate) seventy
billion times more important. In Halo, a hundred shards of exploding
crystal can pierce your flesh and you can live on to write your
memoirs. In R6, if a friend even shows you a picture of a gun, you will both die.”

“I actually couldn’t watch the “rap
all the way through the first three times I attempted to. Gabe had only
caught about seven seconds of it when he began to bleed freely from the
nose and mouth. Was this some haunted video, then, like the one in The
Ring? Would I soon die? I have wished to; since I took in the vile
width of this thing thoughts of my own death are the only salve. There
is an especially demonic portion of the video – let us say thirty-one
seconds from the hated beginning, which was the end of all pleasure on
Earth. Their Godforsaken stooge begins to wave around a PSP faceplate
he has printed out, but they have sped up the footage so that by
thirty-six seconds in there can be no doubt: the man has been
lobotomized. There is no man
left. In the video, the meat
continues to twitch, electrical accidents birthing grotesque jerks in
the unknowing beef. It speaks! But it is not language. It is like the
wind blowing through a pile of skulls.”

Concert tomorrow night.

SHOULD BE GOOD. (7:30)

“In a less virtual capacity, signs to spot 16 year old girls are: a constant need to hug each other, a constant need to hug some fat faggot no one likes, a constant need to defend a fat faggot no one likes when attacked, speaking at incomprehensible speed, laughing at something that’s rude at a high decibel level e.g. OH MY GOD YOU JUST SAID WILLY! DATS FUNNY LOL.”