fuck star wars! (05/19/2005)

Fuck star wars and revenge of the sith, the most overhyped piece of trash in movie history! What a fucking joke, watching it was an exercise in pulling my own teeth with no anaesthetic. Fucking lame in so many ways, it's not even funny. I would get my money back if I hadn't walked out halfway through this special-effects-ridden piece of filth!

That being said, I gotta say how the new Star Wars movie was exactly the opposite of what I described above. Yes, I wasn't being serious. Yes, I loved this movie in so many ways. No, Jar Jar doesn't speak at all, he just sort of sits there looking bored, and sad at the end when Padme is dead. They killed off my girlfriend, Senator Padme! I was all sad, that assfuck Anakin choked her almost to death. That was part I didn't like, how apparently she "just gave up on holding on to life." Sure, she lost her boyfriend to the Dark Side, but life goes on man. You're carrying my children, come away with me... we'll make it all good.

And yes, the movie has some awesome special effects, and Wookiees, and the little green bastard Yoda. I seen the midnight showing, just got back around three in the morning, and I'm hyped enough to see it again very soon... maybe tomorrow if I'm lucky. This movie gets my personal recommendation as something that you should really go see. I compare it favorably to Sin City, in fact.

The only problem with the movie was the people watching it. We got there over an hour early, and the theatre was already almost packed. And of course there were the requisite geeks dressed as Jedi Knights, brandishing their little plastic lightsabers pretending that insults can be blocked with a swipe of their blades. Every time I saw some little kid whip one out during the film, and start flashing it... well, it made me wish I had brought my gun along for the ride. Someone's getting out of line? Fire some warning rounds up their ass. Still not cooperating? Walk up and pistol whip the fuck out of them. Just think: the first time they've emerged from their parent's basement in months, and suddenly they get a harsh taste of reality. Geeks get wailed on with guns if they wave plastic toys around, plain and simple.

Hmm, did I get off topic? Can you imagine me being a movie reviewer? I'd be discussing Sin City, and end up talking aboot how I want to create black and white glasses, to see the world from a comic book point of view. Unfortunately that would lead me to re-enacting key scenes from Star Wars... using a lightsaber. Hmm, maybe I won't become a movie reviewer for just that reason.

Okay, I'm done. My pill buzz kicked my ass throughout most of the film, intensifying every little bit and making the movie feel longer and better than it may have been. I suspect sleep will help me put things back into perspective, however sleep doesn't come easily. Especially when I'm this worked up. This happened three years ago when i first went to see Attack of the Clones, and I was all goofed up, presumably on life, and didn't sleep for days afterwards. Good times, and today such times were revisited.

Okay, go to schaaaappp's weblog to read of his adventures in grad kidnapping, and check out the lovely Joy's weblog for her take on the country she lives in, and to find a nice little post dedicated to me and the schaaaapp.

Michael, out!

grand slam yo (05/07/06)

That's just how it is. I did some shots of vodka before my baseball game Friday night, then brought a bottle of Mike's Hard Lemonade for a pre game warm up. Chugged that back as the game started, and I was buzzing quite admirably. I suddenly started doing insanely good, at least at batting. I was making huge hits, the best one of course being a grand slam. Got three runners home as well as myself, and the best thing is that it was hit in the park, not over the fence. Sure, the outfielders must have fucked up badly out there, but I managed to do it up. I've only done that once, back in the first season in a tournament that I was drunk as fuck for.
So that's the new baseball tradition, I'd say. Bottle of Hard Lemonade as a warm up, and I'll see if it's a good thing. I'd say so, judging from early reports.
Elsewhere, I'm enjoying my coveralls at work, even with the crappily spelled name. Seriously, nobody in the world actually spells their name "Micheal", but that's how so many people think of it. Fuck man. It's Michael!
I got my first paycheck a couple of days ago, proving that my new job is very much worth the effort I'm putting into it. I'm actually earning my money, which is a great feeling compared to how things were before.

A happy message from Bran:

hey!?!?!?!?!!!?!?!?!!what aboot me you pallet jacking blondie? , lol. by the way im actually blonde now, its crazy, im never going back!!!!!the job sounds cool, i may even send in a resume when i get home. you could like.....mentor me or sonmething..haha. also, im [edited]. also i had a taste of bc again while i was in dawson creek, but then we went back into alberta and we are currently heading down to lethbridge then up the mountain line to prince george and the down again to vancouver then im done!!!!ill have some pictures of my rockin blondness... i look like a different person really.seig heil! aryan blonde!lol.anyhoogood luck at work dawg, ill ttyl.ill even try to phone once in a while too.
reuuuuuuuuuuuu!
ooup!

Fuck Dawson Creek, that place is shitt! But okay, if I do something dumb and kill my head, then Bran will run up and hump my leg, in a vain attempt at resuscitating me. Silly kid. We're all hoping he returns soon, so we can make fun of him to his face. Especially for suddenly having blond hair. And we'll make fun of Schaap for suddenly making his hair short and spikey. Now he knows what it's like to be me... low maintenance and all.
Now it's time for another happy week of work. It's my last week of these particular shifts, next week I'm switching to something else, though i don't know what. Possibly Tuesday-Saturday night shifts, so I guess I'll be doing some heavy drinking next weekend, heavier than this weekend... and right now... to celebrate. And to mourn my loss of weekends, at least temporarily. But I love it.

Meow, motherfucker.