"We're no longer called Sonic Death Monkey. We're on the verge of becoming Kathleen Turner Overdrive, but just for tonight, we are Barry Jive and his Uptown Five." -High Fidelity Preach on, brother! Preach on! I'm always easily amused at anyone that can turn an actress's name into a wonderful possibility of rhythm. Then again, I used to giggle at my high school band's naming themselves "The Donut Bitches." Somewhere out there, a person will Google me for this. Well, it's better than my usual Google hits of "Pictures Of Women Peeing." Ah, yes, I am here in my warm downstairs just fiddling away to the sounds of my brother watching TV. Once I get up, whatever possible naked woman scene comes up, he will change the channel. Swear to you. It's weird because every other guy I come upon this says to me, "Sit down! There's a possible boob scene!." I could be an axe murderer or possible high school principal but in all fun things about being a guy is that men WANT to share the possible nudity with other males. Speaking of movies, I have that odd fetish that needs to be served once a month in which I will visit the local independent bookstore to sink my hairless ass (freshly trimmed today!) and look at pictures of how the rich design their home theaters or movie theaters found in their homes. I've grown so accustomed to dreaming up my own that I can name where everything will go as well as what brand of electronics will be found, only the best. How many other people think up this shit? I've been to so many rooms, houses, and visited people that have no imagination. Just a TV or whatever the fuck they find will do. A stack of DVDs with smears of peanut butter and scratches thanks to the dog's need to tell his owner to place Rin Tin Tin back in keep me horrified. Not me. I'll have that 7 speaker surround sound combined with a subwoofer and a gigantic couch to sink into as the greats play. My arms will be wrapped around my girlfriend or canine companion (his name will be "Baloo") on those nights I come home from the gym all tired exclaiming: "Keira Knightley, take me away!" It's always been my belief that I would only want 1 room in the house to design and that would be the movie room. My first printing of the movie poster for Friday the 13th will be nicely framed along with some of the old posters for those wacky 70's porn flicks like Debbie Does Dallas or my foreign love of violence with horror such as Brotherhood Of the Wolf. Should I add props from Hollywood? I'd get a real steal of having The Punisher's body armor, complete with faded skull symbol that was actually worn for around a couple thousand dollars. Whatever it is, I just take my dreams a bit differently than others. It's in my that I take movie watching a bit seriously but not the movies themselves. Just witness the simple makeout sessions I have with my dogs as John Travolta starts dancing with Uma Thurman. Doesn't that just get you all hot while watching Pulp Fiction? 3 Things: The only magazines I have every found in the men's room of the local Barnes N Noble- 1. Playgirl Reasons to hate me- 1. My fast metabolism (but salt kills me) Reasons I hate me- 1. People always ask me to arm wrestle (No, Over the Top is not my favorite movie) People I admire- 1. Bill Maher People I cannot stand- 1. George Bush (duh!) Why I'm so into Sara- 1. She accepts me for who I am, all the good with the bad. Why my dogs are funny- 1. If you fart, they'll stare at your ass and then run like something's going to come out of your butt and attack them. Seriously! Well, I don't know what else to say because I've got a few things on my mind thanks to my claustrophobia down here. My grandparents' things being all around me just taunt me. I wonder if Martha Stewart has this same issue with being cooped up in a 152 acre area. However, the dork in me is so giddy with excitement thanks to my comic shop getting 6 copies of BloodRayne in on Wednesday. Yeah, yeah, I know you'll grown since you'd rather hear more about my dogs and farting or the fact that my pubes itch thanks to the regrowing of what looks like a Chia Pet down there. "Look, it's some curly grass for the mushroom tree, mama!" I swear there are days I just want to lay down on the floor in complete darkness and play Pink Floyd's "Dark Side Of the Moon" to psyche myself up that the world isn't getting as dumb as it seems. It's like that big realization that dogs and cats are actually living together but the Bush Administration is fighting this since it just doesn't go with what others deem as proper. Goodnight. 0 Got Balls? |
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