Watched Kit Kittredge today. Finally, a movie that met expectations. Very low expectations. The popcorn, on the other hand, was exemplary. It was so good, we popped the family free refill cherry, and downed the second serving with forty minutes of trite overacted time-filler to spare. You know you're suffering when you begin to miss commercial interruptions.
Michelle is leaving us again. I know I know, I don't deserve it, who else gets two vacations a month? To celebrate, I have a date with Barnes and Noble's and then perhaps some hours of guitar inadequacy. Life is good.
Also going to try and get back to Harry Potter y la Piedra Filosofal which has been gathering dust on my harddrive. Not doing anything useful can be really time-consuming, and I've been neglecting my foreign language studies.
I think I might visit some of my relatives this week. They all suffer from a congenital defect called "family values," and risk getting a heartattack if kin enter their vicinity and don't drop by. I definitely don't want any dead family karma. Those tend to take revenge on you by manifesting as some horrible disease. You can hope it's merely physical like cancer and not truly insidious like "family values."
Less than two weeks left till I get to visit my girl! She's probably fainted twice reading the previous sentence, expecting horrible jokes on her account. If so, I hope today is not the morning of July 10th, and I haven't made her late for her date with the MCATs. Yes, yes, she's one of those - aspiring murderers. Steady hands, loves blood, kills your rabbits for free (I'll never let this one go), and refuses to settle for a lesser profession than sending people's insurance rates through the roof. But...that's all in the faaaaar future. For now, she's a little study-monkey, working her butt off to earn herself debts and slavery for the next X years. Aaanyway, por donde iba?...It's so easy to get distracted when people have ambitions to poke at. What I wanted to say...I think...was: let's all help her with a cheer. Join hands you homophobes...and:
Chun, Chun, she's our man,
Even studies on the can,
Verbal, physics, bio, chem,
Wait a minute...what the hell is she thinking? She's an electric engineer...ahhh!...must salvage the cheer...Good Luck Chun!
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Monday, July 7, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wanted
Endurance test codename "Bella" failed miserably.
Whenever I convince myself to throw down a couple sets of pushups, pullups, layups, etc., the number of reps per set always decreases with each passing set. Yesterday I observed the same trend with a horrible drama movie (Bella). Turns out, I can only do 3 sets of hyperdrive drama - 40 minutes, 5 minutes, and 3 seconds. Let me summarize the plot so you can sympathize.
Chapter 1:
Flash back to a day in the good-old days when Jose was a star soccer player - the kind that can sign passerbys' faces and not get pounded for it. Don't finish the flashback, but allude to a bad ending.
Flash forward - Jose had a 5 inch beard, 6 inch eyebrows, and works for his slavedriver brother as a chef. Jose finds time every day to look down garbage disposal units, up at clouds, deep into people's eyes, and experience profound emotional turmoil on account of the girl his car turned into a puddle. ...No wait, that isn't revealed till Chapter 3.
Screw it. New summary: Jose meets...umm...damn!...can't even remember her name. Argh!
New summary: Jose and some woman with onions stuffed under her eyelids and lemons in her cheeks search desperately for a botox injection to arrest their facial twitching. Meanwhile, a series of flashbacks reenacts a little girl getting run over in increasingly artistic and provocative manners. I have a bad feeling now you're going to say it sounds interesting, but believe me, it was crap.
Saw Wanted today. First, let's get the bad jokes out of the way:
It should have been called Wanted: A Plot.
This kind of crap is definitely not wanted.
I just wanted it to stop, please! Make it stop!
It has been weighed, it has been measured, it has been found wanting.
Now the review:
Short version (SPOILER ALERT):
It sure was a load of crap.
Slightly longer version (SPOILER ALERT):
The plot is fairly simple. Basically it's a thinly veiled ripoff of the Matrix. A bunch of supposedly beautiful people (Matrix) run fast (Matrix), shoot even faster (Matrix), bend some laws of physics (Matrix), break others (Matrix), and do all of these in slow motion (Matrix). If the movie were played entirely at full speed, it would barely skid over the 10 minute mark. To make up for this, there are of course some excellent if ruthlessly abused plot twists.
One such plot twist involves identity of the main character's father, initially an unknown. The trend however is quickly established. Every successive man who dies in the movie is instantly awarded paternity. Not to point out the obvious, but this is dramatic! This ain't Gosford Park. I didn't stay past the credits to see the final act where Angelina Jolie finally receives the honor, but I have full confidence in her abilities as a father.
Another, equally excellent plot twist involves an Oracle - do I hear Matrix again? However, in this "remix," the Oracle turns out to be...can you guess? Is it a dragon? A hobbit? Kiera Knightley? All equally good guesses, but when you find out, you'll all be slapping your foreheads and/or slitting your wrists screaming "WHY??? WHY DIDN'T I GUESS THAT, IT'S SO OBVIOUS!" You've probably guessed it by now, but I'll tell you anyway - a loom. Yea, one of those thread gizmos.
Oh well, at least Morgan Freeman dies.
Whenever I convince myself to throw down a couple sets of pushups, pullups, layups, etc., the number of reps per set always decreases with each passing set. Yesterday I observed the same trend with a horrible drama movie (Bella). Turns out, I can only do 3 sets of hyperdrive drama - 40 minutes, 5 minutes, and 3 seconds. Let me summarize the plot so you can sympathize.
Chapter 1:
Flash back to a day in the good-old days when Jose was a star soccer player - the kind that can sign passerbys' faces and not get pounded for it. Don't finish the flashback, but allude to a bad ending.
Flash forward - Jose had a 5 inch beard, 6 inch eyebrows, and works for his slavedriver brother as a chef. Jose finds time every day to look down garbage disposal units, up at clouds, deep into people's eyes, and experience profound emotional turmoil on account of the girl his car turned into a puddle. ...No wait, that isn't revealed till Chapter 3.
Screw it. New summary: Jose meets...umm...damn!...can't even remember her name. Argh!
New summary: Jose and some woman with onions stuffed under her eyelids and lemons in her cheeks search desperately for a botox injection to arrest their facial twitching. Meanwhile, a series of flashbacks reenacts a little girl getting run over in increasingly artistic and provocative manners. I have a bad feeling now you're going to say it sounds interesting, but believe me, it was crap.
Saw Wanted today. First, let's get the bad jokes out of the way:
It should have been called Wanted: A Plot.
This kind of crap is definitely not wanted.
I just wanted it to stop, please! Make it stop!
It has been weighed, it has been measured, it has been found wanting.
Now the review:
Short version (SPOILER ALERT):
It sure was a load of crap.
Slightly longer version (SPOILER ALERT):
The plot is fairly simple. Basically it's a thinly veiled ripoff of the Matrix. A bunch of supposedly beautiful people (Matrix) run fast (Matrix), shoot even faster (Matrix), bend some laws of physics (Matrix), break others (Matrix), and do all of these in slow motion (Matrix). If the movie were played entirely at full speed, it would barely skid over the 10 minute mark. To make up for this, there are of course some excellent if ruthlessly abused plot twists.
One such plot twist involves identity of the main character's father, initially an unknown. The trend however is quickly established. Every successive man who dies in the movie is instantly awarded paternity. Not to point out the obvious, but this is dramatic! This ain't Gosford Park. I didn't stay past the credits to see the final act where Angelina Jolie finally receives the honor, but I have full confidence in her abilities as a father.
Another, equally excellent plot twist involves an Oracle - do I hear Matrix again? However, in this "remix," the Oracle turns out to be...can you guess? Is it a dragon? A hobbit? Kiera Knightley? All equally good guesses, but when you find out, you'll all be slapping your foreheads and/or slitting your wrists screaming "WHY??? WHY DIDN'T I GUESS THAT, IT'S SO OBVIOUS!" You've probably guessed it by now, but I'll tell you anyway - a loom. Yea, one of those thread gizmos.
Oh well, at least Morgan Freeman dies.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Great Depression
Today I came within an inch of damnation. A day after posting on Craigslist, I was surprised and delighted to see that someone was interested in my quality services as a tutor. Not just interested, they wanted me to tutor their currently mediocre but soon to be genius offspring, every day of the week. One or two more such customers, I thought to myself amidst a fit of giggles, and I'd never need a job again. I went to sleep blissfully ignorant of the storm gathering in my Inbox.
I woke up this morning, and found four more wonderful emails from wonderful people with wonderfully thick children. This is where I should have pricked up my ears. Instead, I pranced around the room, threw handfuls of credit cards into the air, and only then got to reading.
Woe was me. At first glance, the emails spoke of normal people who wanted to send me baskets full of checks. But things tended quickly to the creepy. The writing had obviously missed out on some grammar and spellchecking. At the same time, the people all claimed to be from England - a little-known country that chiefly exports clones of Henry Higgins - the Naziest language Nazi of all. Everything suddenly became crystal clear. I was being asked to participate in something intrinsically un-American, and thus undoubtedly Communist-inspired. I was being asked to give an American education to a foreigner!
I was shocked! Revolted! ...But slightly tempted to participate. This last thought that zigzagged through my mind scared me most. After much deliberation, I have decided to do the right thing and turn myself in to the government. Tomorrow will likely be my last day as a free American, for temptation is harshly but justly punished in our wonderful country.
Made some more progress with my music - the Tina-turned-Chun song is moving along beautifully.
I'm writing and expecting...yearning for...nay, praying for an interruption, because material is scarce, and my movie hormones are flaring at full throttle. Tonight still lives with the promise of another B-rated film ruthlessly sacrificed to my addiction, but time is passing and...was that my name being called? Hm...no, that was just me saying it aloud. Enough! I suppose tonight, I'll have to initiate the ritual.
I woke up this morning, and found four more wonderful emails from wonderful people with wonderfully thick children. This is where I should have pricked up my ears. Instead, I pranced around the room, threw handfuls of credit cards into the air, and only then got to reading.
Woe was me. At first glance, the emails spoke of normal people who wanted to send me baskets full of checks. But things tended quickly to the creepy. The writing had obviously missed out on some grammar and spellchecking. At the same time, the people all claimed to be from England - a little-known country that chiefly exports clones of Henry Higgins - the Naziest language Nazi of all. Everything suddenly became crystal clear. I was being asked to participate in something intrinsically un-American, and thus undoubtedly Communist-inspired. I was being asked to give an American education to a foreigner!
I was shocked! Revolted! ...But slightly tempted to participate. This last thought that zigzagged through my mind scared me most. After much deliberation, I have decided to do the right thing and turn myself in to the government. Tomorrow will likely be my last day as a free American, for temptation is harshly but justly punished in our wonderful country.
Made some more progress with my music - the Tina-turned-Chun song is moving along beautifully.
I'm writing and expecting...yearning for...nay, praying for an interruption, because material is scarce, and my movie hormones are flaring at full throttle. Tonight still lives with the promise of another B-rated film ruthlessly sacrificed to my addiction, but time is passing and...was that my name being called? Hm...no, that was just me saying it aloud. Enough! I suppose tonight, I'll have to initiate the ritual.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Long Day
Mom's looking over my shoulder, so I can't unleash my full writing potential. Half will do.
Went to Hana's house today. They were definitely unprepared to entertain me. I was counting on at least some singing, money showering, and "we're not worthy"'s accompanied by heads banging against the floor, but all I got was a good meal and an even better serving of boooring. They all camped out in the den and watched a recorded Turkey-Germany soccer match, and no amount tears or begging succeeded in making them tell me to shut up and go home. I don't understand, if you have a match taped and can watch it any time, why would you ever watch it? Especially when I'm around waiting to be entertained.
Mom's learning Stairway to Heaven so she can go to Guitar Center and piss them off - all guitar stores have Stairway to Heaven on their blacklists. Luckily for them, she only practices once every couple of months, usually in different and not always consecutive years.
Chun studying for MCATs is reflecting poorly on my self-esteem. Every now and then, she'll come at me with a "hey, I've got a really easy question for ya...," just to make sure I feel like a moron when I can't even understand what it's asking. I of course proceed to do just that, and she has her fill of laughs. Then she leaves me and returns to her career-building, while I frantically shake my computer upside down so my tears don't short its circuits.
Michelle's having a sleepover today, so there are suddenly two Michelles in the house (her friend is also a Michelle). This is pretty much your classic domestic nightmare. Right now they're upstairs and judging from the sounds, they're either mudwrestling, practicing dropkicks, or sacrificing an uncooperative goat. I hear thud after thud, and lots of giggling that'll soon make its way downstairs, meet Mom, and seamlessly become sobbing if not screaming.
Went to Hana's house today. They were definitely unprepared to entertain me. I was counting on at least some singing, money showering, and "we're not worthy"'s accompanied by heads banging against the floor, but all I got was a good meal and an even better serving of boooring. They all camped out in the den and watched a recorded Turkey-Germany soccer match, and no amount tears or begging succeeded in making them tell me to shut up and go home. I don't understand, if you have a match taped and can watch it any time, why would you ever watch it? Especially when I'm around waiting to be entertained.
Mom's learning Stairway to Heaven so she can go to Guitar Center and piss them off - all guitar stores have Stairway to Heaven on their blacklists. Luckily for them, she only practices once every couple of months, usually in different and not always consecutive years.
Chun studying for MCATs is reflecting poorly on my self-esteem. Every now and then, she'll come at me with a "hey, I've got a really easy question for ya...," just to make sure I feel like a moron when I can't even understand what it's asking. I of course proceed to do just that, and she has her fill of laughs. Then she leaves me and returns to her career-building, while I frantically shake my computer upside down so my tears don't short its circuits.
Michelle's having a sleepover today, so there are suddenly two Michelles in the house (her friend is also a Michelle). This is pretty much your classic domestic nightmare. Right now they're upstairs and judging from the sounds, they're either mudwrestling, practicing dropkicks, or sacrificing an uncooperative goat. I hear thud after thud, and lots of giggling that'll soon make its way downstairs, meet Mom, and seamlessly become sobbing if not screaming.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Guests
My cousin and grandma from Baltimore dropped by yesterday on short notice. My cousin is a business guru with grandma's thuggish good looks. We skipped the usual midnight movie showing, and talked in bed till 3 AM. He told me some wild stories about taxi drivers and hookers, and I reciprocated with my own wild tales of sitting on the couch in our lounge. He was so impressed, he passed right out, so I went to sleep as well. In the morning he was gone, but he'll be back for more stories. They always come back.
I've been breezing through The Time Traveler's Wife - an extremely easy and entertaining read. It is drawing near the end, and my magic 8-ball is growing increasingly pessimistic. The level of drama, nostalgia, sentimentality, and inevitability has gotten so high that my tear glands are begging for an interlude. I've been drinking a lot of Gatorade to replenish my fluids. The only thing that cheers me up is thinking about how hard Chun'll be crying when she's reading it. Other people's tears always provide for quality entertainment, and Chun also has excellent delivery. (Don't worry Chun, the fall of my reputation as a dry-eyed stoic will protect yours.)
Watched a sappy Russian movie from the 80's today, a close relative of my worst enemy - Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. Watch it (the French one) if you're ever feeling more than usually sadomasochistic. The Russian movie was entertaining in comparison, despite being a colossal bore.
Michelle has volunteered me for a set of pushups with dad. I miss my couch.
I've been breezing through The Time Traveler's Wife - an extremely easy and entertaining read. It is drawing near the end, and my magic 8-ball is growing increasingly pessimistic. The level of drama, nostalgia, sentimentality, and inevitability has gotten so high that my tear glands are begging for an interlude. I've been drinking a lot of Gatorade to replenish my fluids. The only thing that cheers me up is thinking about how hard Chun'll be crying when she's reading it. Other people's tears always provide for quality entertainment, and Chun also has excellent delivery. (Don't worry Chun, the fall of my reputation as a dry-eyed stoic will protect yours.)
Watched a sappy Russian movie from the 80's today, a close relative of my worst enemy - Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. Watch it (the French one) if you're ever feeling more than usually sadomasochistic. The Russian movie was entertaining in comparison, despite being a colossal bore.
Michelle has volunteered me for a set of pushups with dad. I miss my couch.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Movies
Saw some more movies today - Get Smart, and the new but still less than incredible Hulk.
Get Smart was fairly entertaining. The Rock plays what he looks - a jolly imbecile. Steve Carell cracks the usual metajokes - they're funny because they're not funny - which is really confusing for my sense of humor; I feel like it's part of some horrible setup to get me to laugh in the wrong situation. Anne Hathaway, my pet peeve, is a little less annoying than usual; I managed to sit through 2 hours of her without slitting my wrists or gouging my eye sockets out with the car keys. I've been trying to zero in on what exactly irritates me about her, ever since her debut into my life with The Princess Diaries. After this insightful movie, I got to wondering again. It's not her legs, or her breasts, I reasoned. Not her skin, not that cute little mole on the inside of her left butt cheek, not her hair, not the blonde bombshell she used to be before the plastic surgery. Hmm...what else is there to a person?? And then I had a breakthrough, when I accidentally hit the mental zoom-out button. The flash went off right away. It's her mouth! That thing looks so normal, and then she speaks. Suddenly, you're staring at a hole with a head attached to it. This made me suspicious. Had I seen Anne Hathaway before The Princess Diaries? After doing some research, I finally found that her breakout role was actually much earlier - on the cover of the Pink Floyd DVD - The Wall:
Now to juxtapose it with today:
Here's another:
What a skeleton in the closet!
(Upon further investigation, I have found that I'm pretty much the last person on the Internet to realize her mouth is huge. Oh well, at least now we all know.)
The new Incredible Hulk was admittedly better than Ang Lee's version, but then again, most of my turds are. Edward Norton has built up some good acting momentum, so he probably felt safe cashing in. Robert Downey Jr. has lost all self-respect - in the movie, he makes a cameo to pimp out himself and Iron Man. After the movie, when I took my ritual cleansing piss, he was handing out flyers by the urinals. I held my bladder till I got home.
Tomorrow's a busy day. I have to wake up at 8 to drive Michelle to school. Then I have to wake up again at 9 to attend some bogus post-graduation award ceremony. She seems confident that she's gonna get something. I'm not up for anything this year, so I'll just be praying for an early dismissal.
Get Smart was fairly entertaining. The Rock plays what he looks - a jolly imbecile. Steve Carell cracks the usual metajokes - they're funny because they're not funny - which is really confusing for my sense of humor; I feel like it's part of some horrible setup to get me to laugh in the wrong situation. Anne Hathaway, my pet peeve, is a little less annoying than usual; I managed to sit through 2 hours of her without slitting my wrists or gouging my eye sockets out with the car keys. I've been trying to zero in on what exactly irritates me about her, ever since her debut into my life with The Princess Diaries. After this insightful movie, I got to wondering again. It's not her legs, or her breasts, I reasoned. Not her skin, not that cute little mole on the inside of her left butt cheek, not her hair, not the blonde bombshell she used to be before the plastic surgery. Hmm...what else is there to a person?? And then I had a breakthrough, when I accidentally hit the mental zoom-out button. The flash went off right away. It's her mouth! That thing looks so normal, and then she speaks. Suddenly, you're staring at a hole with a head attached to it. This made me suspicious. Had I seen Anne Hathaway before The Princess Diaries? After doing some research, I finally found that her breakout role was actually much earlier - on the cover of the Pink Floyd DVD - The Wall:
Now to juxtapose it with today:
Here's another:
What a skeleton in the closet!
(Upon further investigation, I have found that I'm pretty much the last person on the Internet to realize her mouth is huge. Oh well, at least now we all know.)
The new Incredible Hulk was admittedly better than Ang Lee's version, but then again, most of my turds are. Edward Norton has built up some good acting momentum, so he probably felt safe cashing in. Robert Downey Jr. has lost all self-respect - in the movie, he makes a cameo to pimp out himself and Iron Man. After the movie, when I took my ritual cleansing piss, he was handing out flyers by the urinals. I held my bladder till I got home.
Tomorrow's a busy day. I have to wake up at 8 to drive Michelle to school. Then I have to wake up again at 9 to attend some bogus post-graduation award ceremony. She seems confident that she's gonna get something. I'm not up for anything this year, so I'll just be praying for an early dismissal.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Blah and Blah
Ohhhhh Shaymalayma. I was wrong about you. You managed to make me laugh with your stupid stupid movie.
Mario left today, I think. I guess we'll find out soon.
Chun uploaded a bunch of pictures today, from senior ball, our trip to Maine, so I freed up some time in my busy schedule for some narcissism. Our house is already a narcissist's dreamhouse - wall-length mirrors in every bedroom - but when you're as special as me, you can't help wanting to be surrounded by yourself from all sides.
The trip to Maine, in case someone doesn't know, was an extreme adventure into mother nature. For four days, twelve of us (6 guys, 6 girls) camped out, without even so much as a firepit(!), in a beautiful home in Acadia National Park.
There was only one Wii, two TVs, central heating, and a half dozen bedrooms worth of accomodations, but luck favors the brave. We managed to survive the harsh conditions by always looking for that silver lining - the Stop & Shop at the end of the driveway, our two cars, and 12 credit cards. Everyone made it out more or less alive, and no one got pregnant from the late night orgies. Still, I wouldn't recommend it.
Almost got roped into a Dickens movie today, an idea that could only have spawned from the Masterpiece-Theater-zealot mind of my materfamilias. At the last moment I was stricken with a sudden case of jaw-breaking yawns and I was mercifully allowed to go to bed. Dickens stayed downstairs and entertained my mother for the next two hours. Dad didn't even put up a fight, he just went straight to bed and cried himself to sleep.
Think I'll go to Barnes and Noble tomorrow. It's time to get disillusioned with Queen.
Mario left today, I think. I guess we'll find out soon.
Chun uploaded a bunch of pictures today, from senior ball, our trip to Maine, so I freed up some time in my busy schedule for some narcissism. Our house is already a narcissist's dreamhouse - wall-length mirrors in every bedroom - but when you're as special as me, you can't help wanting to be surrounded by yourself from all sides.
The trip to Maine, in case someone doesn't know, was an extreme adventure into mother nature. For four days, twelve of us (6 guys, 6 girls) camped out, without even so much as a firepit(!), in a beautiful home in Acadia National Park.
There was only one Wii, two TVs, central heating, and a half dozen bedrooms worth of accomodations, but luck favors the brave. We managed to survive the harsh conditions by always looking for that silver lining - the Stop & Shop at the end of the driveway, our two cars, and 12 credit cards. Everyone made it out more or less alive, and no one got pregnant from the late night orgies. Still, I wouldn't recommend it.
Almost got roped into a Dickens movie today, an idea that could only have spawned from the Masterpiece-Theater-zealot mind of my materfamilias. At the last moment I was stricken with a sudden case of jaw-breaking yawns and I was mercifully allowed to go to bed. Dickens stayed downstairs and entertained my mother for the next two hours. Dad didn't even put up a fight, he just went straight to bed and cried himself to sleep.
Think I'll go to Barnes and Noble tomorrow. It's time to get disillusioned with Queen.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
And Thursday
My sister finally graduated from elementary school! This is a very exciting event in our house, because for the past week there's been no shutting her up about it. But now it's over, phew, and we can all take out our crusty earplugs.
Going to see The Happening tomorrow, by Shaymalayma. No surprises expected, so I'm gonna go ahead and review it ahead of time:
Review of The Happening
Shaymalayma's coin is consistency, and he showered us with handfuls in The Happening - a thoroughly predictable series of loud sounds trailed by Shaymalayma's staple plot devices - "absolutely nothing," and "more and even louder sounds." The few times when the obnoxious offenses to our ears were followed by visual gratification - something mildly fear-inducing - I was too distracted by the loud yawns in the audience to appreciate the cinematic genius. The moral? Go see Don't Mess With The Zohan instead.
Fortunately I'm still in the "haven't seen The Happening yet" stage, and let me tell you people, you just don't appreciate life till you have something like a Shaymalayma movie on your horizons. I am going to live these next 15 hours to the fullest.
Mario's leaving tomorrow, so I'm practicing my tearful farewells. I still haven't decided what I'm going to say when we part. I've narrowed it down to the following possibilities, please help me choose:
"I'll never forget you...David Mario Mendiola."
"Be strong!"
"Don't cry, no, please don't cry! I can't take it when you cry."
"We'll meet again...David Mario Mendiola."
"I'll write every day."
"You...were the Frank Lau of my life."
On second thought, I think I'll just free style.
Going to see The Happening tomorrow, by Shaymalayma. No surprises expected, so I'm gonna go ahead and review it ahead of time:
Review of The Happening
Shaymalayma's coin is consistency, and he showered us with handfuls in The Happening - a thoroughly predictable series of loud sounds trailed by Shaymalayma's staple plot devices - "absolutely nothing," and "more and even louder sounds." The few times when the obnoxious offenses to our ears were followed by visual gratification - something mildly fear-inducing - I was too distracted by the loud yawns in the audience to appreciate the cinematic genius. The moral? Go see Don't Mess With The Zohan instead.
Fortunately I'm still in the "haven't seen The Happening yet" stage, and let me tell you people, you just don't appreciate life till you have something like a Shaymalayma movie on your horizons. I am going to live these next 15 hours to the fullest.
Mario's leaving tomorrow, so I'm practicing my tearful farewells. I still haven't decided what I'm going to say when we part. I've narrowed it down to the following possibilities, please help me choose:
"I'll never forget you...David Mario Mendiola."
"Be strong!"
"Don't cry, no, please don't cry! I can't take it when you cry."
"We'll meet again...David Mario Mendiola."
"I'll write every day."
"You...were the Frank Lau of my life."
On second thought, I think I'll just free style.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Last One
Boring movies have a poor effect on my hygeine. Yesterday's movie put me to sleep so well, I decided not to waste the state and render watching the movie a worthless experience; I ended up going to sleep without showering. Today I was more careful and showered in the afternoon, as I have another boring movie lined up for this evening.
Yesterday Michelle went to her friend's house, and managed to escape with a half-a-piece of cake. Today she proudly got yesterday's booty out of the refrigerator, and in an exercise in generosity, offered me half. A family-wide battle immediately ensued for the cake, and my half of the half-piece quickly disappeared from my horizons. Mom demanded to know how much she was getting, and although Mario didn't voice any concerns about his fate, he was clearly having trouble controlling his drooling. Dad was sitting at his computer in the other room, but his silent protests were more eloquent than any complaints he could have delivered out loud.
Being a veteran of such conflicts, I quickly forfeited my share, and suggested that we all just satisfy ourselves with letting Michelle stuff herself, and then make her feel guilty afterwards for the rest of her life. Unfortunately immediate gratification was more popular today, and Mom didn't give up till Michelle conceded her a sliver. Once the sliver was successfully chomped, Michelle realized that the peace offering was a mistake, and that she had merely whetted the beast's appetite. Sensing danger, she smeared the fork with cake in the most unappetizing way she could, and began running around the room with it, offering a lick to anyone who wanted one. This quenched most appetites without even requiring her to deliver on her offer. Crisis successfully negotiated, and having gotten away with just a small tithe to the lioness, Michelle chomped the rest of the cake in peace. All that remains now is an extra dirty dish in the middle of the cluttered kitchen table, and not being the first one left out, it isn't particularly likely to cause a fit from the resident dishwasher. Another point for Michelle.
I ended up recording some vocals for the Natasha song, but with completely different lyrics. Meanwhile, here's the Guitar Pro version, with the original lyrics, the synth representing the vocals.
Yesterday Michelle went to her friend's house, and managed to escape with a half-a-piece of cake. Today she proudly got yesterday's booty out of the refrigerator, and in an exercise in generosity, offered me half. A family-wide battle immediately ensued for the cake, and my half of the half-piece quickly disappeared from my horizons. Mom demanded to know how much she was getting, and although Mario didn't voice any concerns about his fate, he was clearly having trouble controlling his drooling. Dad was sitting at his computer in the other room, but his silent protests were more eloquent than any complaints he could have delivered out loud.
Being a veteran of such conflicts, I quickly forfeited my share, and suggested that we all just satisfy ourselves with letting Michelle stuff herself, and then make her feel guilty afterwards for the rest of her life. Unfortunately immediate gratification was more popular today, and Mom didn't give up till Michelle conceded her a sliver. Once the sliver was successfully chomped, Michelle realized that the peace offering was a mistake, and that she had merely whetted the beast's appetite. Sensing danger, she smeared the fork with cake in the most unappetizing way she could, and began running around the room with it, offering a lick to anyone who wanted one. This quenched most appetites without even requiring her to deliver on her offer. Crisis successfully negotiated, and having gotten away with just a small tithe to the lioness, Michelle chomped the rest of the cake in peace. All that remains now is an extra dirty dish in the middle of the cluttered kitchen table, and not being the first one left out, it isn't particularly likely to cause a fit from the resident dishwasher. Another point for Michelle.
I ended up recording some vocals for the Natasha song, but with completely different lyrics. Meanwhile, here's the Guitar Pro version, with the original lyrics, the synth representing the vocals.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Breaking News
Saw In Bruges yesterday. It's quite the menagerie of plot devices: There's a 30-year-old retarded child played by Colin Farrell, a midget, a global midget war between white midgets and black Vietnamese midgets, a priest who can't stop bullets, a gun-toting Lord Voldemort, a league of principled hitmen, and a handful of dead children. Ironically there's very little plot other than a parade of the aforementioned items, and some witty dialogue. It was enough to keep me entertained, as I also had some popcorn, but my dad didn't ration his portion well and began whining less than half way through the movie. The ending, SPOILER ALERT, is one of those unsatisfying "Everyone died. Wait did they? I think I saw an arm move! Credits roll, and now we'll never know."
Mom offered me to help her cook dinner today, and I suddenly realized how much I missed grandma, so Mario, my sister and I visited her for dinner. We visited, but karma caught up to me, and I ended up having to help grandma fix her Cablevision after a storm knocked out the electric power. This included some quality time on the phone with Liz from Cablevision Customer Service. She must have been following a script, because the first words I heard from Liz were long-winded flaccid assurances about how anxious she was to be of help to me. Then she made me do all sorts of ritual dances around the TV and Cablevision box, and read her the codes from all the barcode stickers in the room. Despite Liz's help, I eventually managed to figure out where the DVD player's power button was.
On another note, a new song was born today, to commemorate yesterday's failed hang-out with Natasha. She was to go on a morning hike with her parents, and then call me so we could decide what we were doing. I ended up calling her at 7PM, and she blew me off. I cried a little from loneliness, and held a short funeral service for the $1.50 she cost me in text messages. When I woke up this morning with red-rimmed eyes, I decided to devote a song to yesterday's tragedy. The song's done, but I haven't recorded the vocals yet so it'll probably be up tomorrow. Meanwhile, Mario and I decided to write some more songs about other girls, so Anna, Lucy, Tina, watch out, our lyrics are rarely completely complimentary.
Mom offered me to help her cook dinner today, and I suddenly realized how much I missed grandma, so Mario, my sister and I visited her for dinner. We visited, but karma caught up to me, and I ended up having to help grandma fix her Cablevision after a storm knocked out the electric power. This included some quality time on the phone with Liz from Cablevision Customer Service. She must have been following a script, because the first words I heard from Liz were long-winded flaccid assurances about how anxious she was to be of help to me. Then she made me do all sorts of ritual dances around the TV and Cablevision box, and read her the codes from all the barcode stickers in the room. Despite Liz's help, I eventually managed to figure out where the DVD player's power button was.
On another note, a new song was born today, to commemorate yesterday's failed hang-out with Natasha. She was to go on a morning hike with her parents, and then call me so we could decide what we were doing. I ended up calling her at 7PM, and she blew me off. I cried a little from loneliness, and held a short funeral service for the $1.50 she cost me in text messages. When I woke up this morning with red-rimmed eyes, I decided to devote a song to yesterday's tragedy. The song's done, but I haven't recorded the vocals yet so it'll probably be up tomorrow. Meanwhile, Mario and I decided to write some more songs about other girls, so Anna, Lucy, Tina, watch out, our lyrics are rarely completely complimentary.
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