I'm in love with a woman who has a fake alien accent

I wish my laugh was more like Tom Hulce’s from the movie Amadeus.  Then I would be more popular and not such a loser.  I always imagine laughing like that right before I commit the physical act of taking my own life. 

 

I recently rewatched John Wick after purchasing the blu ray and I think I would boot off Interstellar from my top 10 list and stick Wick right there. 

 

I can add Lynda Carter’s Wonder Woman to the list of people of whom you remind me. 

 

The Grammy’s are a bizarre and twisted joke, similar to just about any entertainment awards shows.  Kanye West largely seems like an idiot though I do greatly enjoy his music.  There is a strange racial element to these awards which is troubling for all sides.  Also, is west on Beyonce or Jay-Z’s payroll?  I’m not sure why accruing thousands of writers and artists for your albums merits awards but I guess that’s why I’m not on the committee (or an artist).  On a side note I’ve always found Beck to be quite boring an uninspired and not a patch on those he claims as inspirations/influences (such as the man that presented his award).  I’m that entitled cowardly blogger who trashes people from behind the safe anonymity of the keyboard.  Treasure me. 

 

I don’t understand the world at large anymore.  Beyonce, Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, Iggy Azalea, Miley Cyrus the list goes on.  Why do so many female artists make music videos designed for teenage masturbation?  Is this girl power?  Is Beyonce a feminist?  Was Annie Lennox right?  Even my beloved Shakira.  Or am I guilty of a double standard.  Am I similarly befuddled by old Red Hot Chili Peppers videos where they parade around shirtless (or sometimes with far less on), showing off their sweaty bodies and reveling in delicious masculinity.  Is such tawdry sexiness a bad thing?  Does it cheapen the music at all?  Or is it just another marketing plow that should have no effect on what one thinks of the tunes?  And can it just be written off as an extension of that individual’s personality?  Is Madonna and Lady Gaga’s bizarre sexual displays somehow more pure than the more classically adolescent examples of Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera?  Or is it all just the same?  And who the hell are they marketing to?  I will never buy a Nicki Minaj album, or Rihanna or Beyonce or Christina but I may view their videos on a lonely night with my erect pulsating cock firmly in hand, eager to sow my plentiful seed in the carpet at my feet and in the spaces between the keys on my Dell keyboard.  But do girls like these videos?  Is it empowering to see those images?  Do the women that watch these videos want to do these things?!  Or is it a simple admiration of brazen sexuality?  I just don’t know anything about anything anymore. 

 

Alien vs. Predator is an awful movie. I saw it opening weekend back in the summer of 04’ with two of my best mates.  Even years on I can’t stop thinking about SANAA LATHAN.  I am very physically attracted to her.  Some epic folks online wanted her to play Wonder Woman and I think that announcement would have pleased me more than who was eventually announced. 

 

I am by and large a total idiot and a complete failure. 

 

I watched The Drop last night.  I will have to rewatch his entire filmography but I feel safe and secure right now calling it my favorite Tom Hardy performance of all time. 

 

For years now I’ve been in love with Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.  But I just don’t know what to do about it.  God, I don’t know what to do. 

 

I spent a good part of yesterday reading some of Grant Morrison’s classic Animal Man comic books.  They pleased me to no end. 

 

We've only had two breakfasts so far but overall I'd say the group is going very well and I think there was a marked improvement from the first breakfast to the second one in terms of everyone’s comfort level and eagerness for discussion.  Flapjacks, sausage, bacon and eggs with a bowl of oatmeal and glasses of orange juice and coffee.  That’s what I need. 

After work I am going to hitchhike over to ye olde conglomerate and purchase a copy of Zero Dark Thirty (which I’ve never seen) and any Nicolas Cage movies they have in stock!  Cage is my obsession.  I’ll return home quickly though that I may see the newest episode of Lucha Underground.

Baseball begins today.  Could there be any better day in the whole world?  I have my new jersey ready to be worn to death while I commit to watching every single game that transpires this season. 

It’s reopening has sealed my doom.  Already I am planning a return trip.  Oh sweet flesh.  Oh wonderful thickness.  My desires to be suffocated are reaching a fever pitch.  And how I long for verbal abuse. 

The Coyote Gospel was certainly beautiful, even subtly so.  I did not realize its true and full greatness until the following days wherein I could not stop thinking about it. 

I recently ordered an old Scott Walker album.  No, that is incorrect.  I ordered a relatively new Scott Walker album.  It may not be his most recent release but it is pretty damn close, that I can promise. 

Much like my brain explodes every time it hits sun light I have come to the perverse realization that true numbers do not actually exist in this world.  Used pantyhose cloud my thoughts and how could they not?  I smile and my eyes involuntarily look upward.  There is a snake in a drawer nearby.  I think about cracking my skull open with a tape dispenser.  I really do love Sting’s bass playing.  I am probably my least favorite bass player.  People keep trying to steal my farmland. 

Could the Love Symbol Album be my favorite Prince album? 

DuPont destroyed my life and made it worth living

Oh Chacala. 

I saw a mother walking her child to the school bus stop this morning.  For some reason this touched me.  It was something so casual.  Just a display of love and caring, staying with her boy to guarantee his safety until the bus comes. 

Yesterday there were 4 horror movies that I was anticipating with great relish and sauerkraut for the great year of 2015: Starry Eyes, It Follows, The Babadook, and Rob Zombie’s new movie 31.  I watched Starry Eyes last night so now I can say there are only 3 I am greatly anticipating. 

Prince released 2 albums last year: the electro RnB funk one man band thing Art Official Age and the electric rock full band effort PlectrumElectrum (with band 3rdEyeGirl).  I’ve enjoyed both since the very beginning though initially I preferred Art Official Age.  However now that the effervescent glow of newness has faded I feel confident in concluding I ultimately prefer PlectrumElectrum.  There’s some great stompers on there, great classic Prince material and some sumptuous guitar and bass playing.  Wow is a perfect album opener.  It makes me feel momentarily alive while it’s playing. 

The album Technique by New Order is slowly changing my life.  There is always more to bond with.  If only I could play bass like Peter Hook.  What can I say?  Hook has his hooks in me. 

Lucha Underground killed again last night.  Not much more needs to be said.  I’ve become a TV junkie. 

Baseball season is starting soon and with it my life can begin anew. 

Electronics have their hold on me.  She spins around so much.  She does everything I want her to do.  My pleasures are all imaginary.  There are only a very small number of things I can actually write about.  

Obsession outlives everything, including love. 

Original gangsters are growing inside my brain.  Oh God, and she makes garters.  What have you done to me?  I have such a strong desire to stab myself in the face over and over again.  Maybe then I feel a little relief from what’s swimming around inside.  She’s gonna say goodbye and I say yeah. 

Why are you filling me with so much happiness?  It scares me.  It does not feel natural.  I suspect we’ll meet again somewhere in some strange way. 

As a child, I literally ate, slept and lived baseball, that’s where it was at.  What’s happened to the game I so loved?  Where’s the passion, the drive, the love of the game?  Now it’s all about the paycheck. 

I viewed you in so many compromising positions.  This was shameful.  Everyone was so close.  He was so close.   I threw respect out the window where it was promptly run over by a dump truck.  I usually don’t like jeans but you pulled them off nicely (or should I say how I wished you had pulled them off nicely hahaha, wit!  Wordplay!)

I saw on the news that a 3-year-old in New Mexico found a gun (while apparently reaching for an Ipod) in his mom’s purse and got a shot off, wounding both parents.  Now they are being investigated for negligence.  Women and their purse guns.  When will they ever fucking learn?  People are so dumb.  This family should have their guns and their children taken away.  Then they should be forced to put on chicken costumes and eat steaming plates of liver and onions. 

 

When I woke up this morning the city was in the thick of a torrential downpour (I foolishly tried to catch the deluge in a paper cup).  I love the rain so much.  I drove to work with this life purifying force splashing on my windshield and listening to New Order’s 1983 album Power, Corruption and Lies.  Could there be a better way to begin the morning?  If “work” was replaced with one of several other possible destinations I imagine it would be exponentially better.  Still, it was a great start to a classically disagreeable day. 

 

“Yes please,” is what is said when offered a bag for my purchases but what I was actually thinking was “What the hell do you think you dumb fucking bitch?”  My thoughts and their accompanying rage actually scare me a bit sometimes.  I do not know where they come from and I do not know if they are normal. 

 

I know at some point I’ll buy the movie The Other Guys but I’m not proud of this.  I watched Panic Room again yesterday for the first time in years.  It still holds up.  And Fight Club is still far and away my least favorite David Fincher movie. 

 

4 Sundays will have no meaning.  This is a sad but inescapable conclusion.  I realized just yesterday that you have the ability to throw stars.  Somewhere there is a sweet electronic melody playing and the words floating on top recall the time you and I spent together.  I may never have a chance to tell you how much that time meant to me.  It was greater than anything before or since and I suspect that will remain true for the rest of my life. 

 

I decide to drink Diet Coke today instead of Coke because I’m desperately trying to lose weight.  I’ve been letting my hair grow out a bit because I want to look like James Caan in the movie Thief.  Michael Mann has crafted several masterpieces in his career and that is certainly one of them.  The Criterion transfer is gorgeous on my low quality television set. 

 

I received a new album by popular Greek artist Haris Alexiou in the mail just the other day.  Her voice calms my restless spirit.  Should I ever see her in person I will proffer a hundred thanks for the beauty she has brought to my life. 

 

Then I’ll go off to a darkened room somewhere and eat a stack of blueberry pancakes slathered in maple sypup with a side of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, oatmeal and orange juice.  Then I’ll pull a standard police issue Glock nine millimeter handgun from the waistband of my rent trousers and promptly blow my fucking brains out. 

 

I read the first chapter and a half of Kim Zupan’s debut novel The Ploughmen yesterday while sitting in my car and drinking stale coffee from a paper cup.  I quite enjoyed those pages and Zupan’s hardboiled prose and plan to read the rest sometime during this busy week. 

Salma Hayek always looks beautiful in a green dress.

 

I watched her new movie Everly a couple weeks ago in the comfort of my posh flat.  I ate a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal with 2% milk while watching the first few minutes.  Then I paused the film so I could brush my teeth.  It was the first time I had ever purchased a movie through iTunes but I vowed then and there that it would not be the last.  It was a momentous occasion for me.  We live in such a fast paced world.  People want their information quicker and consume media in a far different fashion.  I have no choice but to adjust.  Hayek was great in the role.

 

I’m as excited for Madonna’s new album as I am disappointed in what a pathetic failure I am.  There are three versions of the album: standard, deluxe and super deluxe.  I’m going for the super deluxe because I’m a big spender.

 

I’m blinking back hot tears as I type and I don’t know way.  I feel such hate and sadness. 

 

I lost $20 American currency at a casino yesterday.  Then I went home and drank until I no longer felt horrible.  Then I passed out on the sofa while watching Terry Gilliam’s latest film The Zero Theorem. I had weird dreams and was thirsty when I woke up.

 

I thought about hosiery a lot this morning but to be fair that is not so different from many of my mornings.