justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jesus 2: Immaculate DESTRUCTION! BGM: "Music is my boyfriend" - The Hidden Cameras OK, Jason Lee, you and me, we gotta have a little talk. You see, I was willing to look the other way when you named your kid "Pilot Inspektor," (no, really) because, let's be honest, you were basically only screwing up that kid's life, and frankly, I can live with that. But now you done gone too far. I mean, I understand that every cartoon that ever was needs to be a live action film now, but seriously man, have you no shame? Voice of Underdog I could handle, I never really liked that show. We both know it's going to suck, though. But now you're playing Dave in the frikkin live action Alvin and the damn Chipmunks movie?! That's all I can stands and I can't stands no more! You need to take a nice break from acting. If you're seriously that hard up for cash, I'll have a bake sale or something. I'll tell them it's for children, 'cause hey, it kinda is. So for reals, now. Just stop it. Stop raping my childhood. Where's the beef with the transformers movie? Turns out it's a little Shia. (get it?! get it?! Zing!) So I recently had a friend of mine staying here for about a month while she did an internship. We're both very similar in several ways, but opposite sides of the spectrum in a few key issues. Well, you know, besides the pants tackle and Chesticles. I'm a very neurotic person who worries constantly about the past and other people's opinions, whereas she doesn't give a shit, both of us to a bad degree. And it's funny how something like that can affect other issues that you wouldn't immediately think had anything to do with confidence. A while ago, she was busy writing an article, and I was fiddling with the stereo, furiously skipping tracks. I have musical ADD. "We have pretty similar taste in music," she said, and it's essentially true. I mean the first time she really caught my attention, I was humming "in the summertime" and she said "hey, Mongo Jerry!" I was instantly impressed. Our tastes in oldies is nearly identical, but where she gravitates towards experimental stuff, whose genres I couldn't name, I tend to go for indy pop, punk, and old school rap. Party music, basically. I worry all the time, whereas she's perfectly grounded. She wants music to make her think, I want it to make me dance and laugh and sing and fantasize about being a rock star, playing a guitar solo while all my exes, in a neat little line in the front row, beat themselves for ever letting me go. Keeps me sane, you know how it is. The balance in my head is a carefully maintained equilibrium, I'll admit. Anyhoo. So I know this is a little late, but it's been bothering me for a while now. There was a preview for the Silver Surfer movie, and the scary government official dude says to them "This picture was taken by one of our spy satellites a few days ago." The government calls them that? Really? "Spy satellites?" Hunh. Never would have guessed. Why am I so ddown on movies today? I'm just tired of studios that never watched the shows I love crapping into a camera and passing it off as the second coming of Christ. See title. You know? And all this without Suzanne Pleshette's comforting presence to reassure me that it's all, in fact, a dream. Excelsior. 12:18 a.m. - 2007-08-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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