don't like the new city of gold (not edited again bc no one cares, especially yours falsely!)

Boy do I hate myself.  I don’t think I could ever possibly hate anyone as much as I hate myself.  Very soon I think I need to squeeze some medium sized plastic bottles.  I was raging this morning over some very  innocuous things.  Lunar Park so far is a great book.  I would recommend it to anyone who fancies herself or himself a writer.  I am very much looking forward to Wonder Woman this Thursday.  Those folks getting mad over the Alamo theatre screenings are morons.  I am constantly taken aback at how many morons there are in the world and the depth of their idiocy, myself included of course.  I need to keep running.  I need help and guidance.  I can’t give anything up.  Jazz music is playing in the background.  And there are giant insects. Lets play William Tell after I’ve had a few drinks!  

There were pink hubcaps inside my brain and I hated to say a certain name(s) so many times but I was still forced to and I kept wanting to slam my head against the mirror and I quite liked the idea of it drawing blood and then I would laugh or something.  I don’t feel about it.  that’s what I told my doctor.  But maybe I should feel bad about it.  I need to see my doctor again.  A Zappa Beefheart Mothers album arrived in the mail today and I look forward to listening to it but where the heck is my Bergman film?  Maybe I’ll eat coconut later.  oh we are all so very awful.  hahaha, that’s me laughing to and about myself.  We do things for absolutely no reason.

You are deluding yourself my friend.  My word, I just realized no one actually cares, we’ve just all convinced ourselves to go through the motions.  How can I take this?  I was driving by a lake earlier and there was something awful about it.  thankfully, Miles Davis was playing and made things a bit less awful.  I see my lifeless body dangling from the ceiling.  Please forgive the thought process.  Maybe later on I’ll go out and buy some crap I don’t need.  Don’t pull the oxygen tank out of the bone under my face!  I can’t breathe!!!  I keep a mirror in my shoe.  There was a tireiron dancing the hokey pokey right outside my door and I proceeded to walk outside and scorch myself under a blazing blue sun.  I tell you it scorched like a thousand evil mad sorcerers.  We are drifting away.  Let’s go on a date!  My fault, my fault.  I didn’t get the joke.  

I just watched an interview with Ray Liotta.  Or did I? Only time will tell.  Stupid fucking dinosaurs.  I realized then we are living in an awful world. We are covering up everything.  walking how many miles because you are you are a whiny thing.  The repetition was intentional.  It was the antacids that drove me insane.  Emboss me!  Hahaha, that made me laugh out loud so hard I bit my tongue off and then promptly mailed it to a woman who works in a public place who I’ve long had a crush on!  Two postage stamps!  That’s my trademark.  I very nearly papercut my eye!  That would have really put a damper on my already miserable evening!  Boy I’m a worthless person.  

Most people view me as a protector of chimps but the truth is I desperately want to buy a powder blue suit and pair it with a yellow tie but I know I could never pull it off due to my fat disgusting body and the fact that it is regrettably always paired with my ugly-as-fuck face!  Don’t make me kiss a dead guy’s jewelry!  Who is that strange man talking to me from my wall?  Ahhh medium.  I love putting a fan on medium and letting it blow in my fat ugly face.  Gyroscopes make virtual reality even better!  

I hate myself beyond belief. There is a great movie on in the background right now and it stars Rebecca Hall who is an actress I greatly admire.  I listened to part of an album called Bongo Fury today.  Tomorrow I hope to listen to the rest of it.  I recommend it to anyone who likes great things.  The first half of Low sums it all up, often exactly how I feel.   I think in another life I was probably a bag of muffins or a plate of multicolored cupcakes.  In another life maybe I was successful.  In another life maybe I was happy.  I must return to the swamp.  Maybe I’ll watch Santa Sangre again later today.  There is a part in there that reminds me a bit of a part from the movie Inferno (an underrated work by Argento in my humble and utterly worthless opinion).  I need to buy an upright bass and wear a funny hat.  I need to cook up some sausages.  Love a cookout!  But which I will do first!?  only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  Those three things can cure anything.  I’m in love with Gina Carano.  I sprayed some Oxi-Clean on my door today and stood there for 11 minutes looking at it.  I got up early to read but I didn’t.  it’s not what it seems but it is.  the CD case fell of my head and hit the floor.  Lets fight about a cheeseburger.  Malapropisms are running rampant these days.    Headscissors with hosiery; how wonderful.

 Brian was quite right in that we haven’t gone any farther than this. What a bizarre desire, to be drilling through the Spiritus Sanctus tonight.  Is there any familiarity there?  I think I’m going to start eating paste.  Label me a paste-eater if you must, if that makes you comfortable.  Oh you humans and your labels.  

The movie Haywire is on in the background.  I love this film.  I need it in my life.  I just found a great list related to another great thing.  It feels like one large work just split up into 18 parts.  I am salivating in anticipation.  My posh flat is flooded with saliva due to all my anticipation and now I have to traverse my humble home via canoe.  

Still need to get that XFL tattoo.  I hate me so fucking much!!!!!  

night ainting (unedited because who really cares?!)

I would like to be treated by a therapist who openly mocks me.  I’ve often longed to have therapy sessions with someone who’s named starts with the letter M but only in an alternate reality where the name would not start with that letter.  How much sense does that make?  I imagine some seafood oriented dinners whilst we are somewhere near the Palazo Vechio.  Oh, is it that type of party?  Screwdriver straight to the brain.  No, not a screwdriver.  Something else.  

There was a factory.  I think he loves factories and machinery and gears and working parts and wood.  I know for a fact that he loves wood.  

It was necessary to remove metal and evacuate spheres.  Even with the spheres taken care of there is still the psychology to consider.  Psychology.  How richly appropriate.  

I listened to the album Binaural by Pearl Jam a fair amount today.  I find it to be one of the most difficult discs in their catalogue but something still keeps me coming back.  I also listened to a fair bit of What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye.  It is still a perfect album.  I attempted to learn the basslines from Breakerfall from the former and What’s Happening Brother from the latter.  I was much more successful at one than the other.  Jeff Ament and James Jamerson are both awesome and inspiring bassists.  

Doing God’s work.  Are you going to deny God?  Two complete opposite sources.  One beautiful and one almost impossibly ugly.  I must do my best to forget the ugly one.  That is all.

I took a long walk down a taupe colored labyrinth and this was commented on.  I could only stare in one direction the entire time.  Why, oh why?!  This is a question I always ask though it does not bother to ask.  We all love temptation.  Everything was very soothing.  There was colored smoke which entered my pores and filled me with affordable renewable energy.  Opposite this there was a graceful waterfall spilling over some rocks.  Graceful is an interesting word here; not quite a root word, that is not the right way to put it but I think I know what I mean.  Little card.  Those were amazing and so tall.  They was almost a familiar and joyous pattern, it was so close.  Close enough.  

There were teal mountains and burnt sienna.  These came to mind later on but at the time also.  So many questions and history and joyous not tedious at all paperwork.  I was working on the finals in high school and college and there was only 5 minutes left and I was not going to be able to finish and it gave me a kind of giddy excitement.  I felt the same thing today, didn’t I, I ask to myself?!  I had to go to one place to pick up one small thing (it was actually two small things, thin as paper) and then I had to take said thing to a place and that place would send the things to the original place but it all went so very wrong so I no choice but to return to the place and then venture back to the original place, back to where this thick gorgeous madness all began.  Oh, he fell so very madly in love.  Everything was swaying back and forth.  Black and turquoise and black again.  

Queen Isis.  I suppose it started with her but she is far from the end of it. Skirt is sometimes better, right?  But now, after that fateful number everything is in such clarity.  You know, I wanted to name a pet Tiffany.  Would that have been wrong? 

I finished a rather lovely tome.  I imagine loving and comforting arms at the moment of my death and wonder if I deserve.  I would likely conclude that no, I don’t deserve that.  I think I cried several times today but who can really be sure and more importantly who really gives a flying fuck?!  That is the question (I have no face).  I must do more reading in regards to various places and sightings.  I don’t suppose I matter very much, do I?  I do love the little flip over the top rope.  Oh, I am so unbelievably awful.  Everyone who knows me must hate me.  I am a disgusting ugly awful.  I hate myself so much.  Did I cry yesterday? Probably.  I am just a colossal ugly worthless fuckup.  Nothing more but possibly something less.  I need to remember to recommend that friend of a friend the graphic novel I mentioned at the birthday party. Oh I am fucking ugly and stupid and worthless. Sometimes I feel like I’m choking, like I actually cannot breathe and it is because of how fucking stupid and repulsive and ugly and disgusting and useless I am.  Fuck I fucking hate myself so fucking much. 

At last 10:08 (reverse two of those numbers) arrives and I am elated though at the same time my rich doom may be sealed.  Every square can be made out.  It was wrapped around my head while it was still on the glass.  

Tactile.  I must stick things to it and then  and then add the colors.  I need the texture and fullness of it all.  this can be a tribute to everything.  every small minor tiny thing.  

And I’ll be back tomorrow!  Isn’t the most crazy damndest thing of all!?  You never learn!  Someone said that to me in liquid form.  A prophet was making guacamole.  Guacamole was then in her shoes by grace and stayed there throughout the entire day before being forcibly inserted into his mouth at the end of the day while she berated him!  Prophet to prophet perhaps?!  

He was not expecting one so full and volumptuos!  How could he?!  So tempestuous!  So wonderous!  Delete the address!  Delete the address.  Tomorrow morning then guac then coffee then spheres.  (P)

Tactile again.  Yes, tactility.  If I only something could be sculpted from all your chewed chewing and/or bubblegum.  If only I could be a piece of gum that you chewed (after you recently ate chips or something similarly crunchy) and then spit out and then accidentally stepped on wit those.  Tactile.  Yes, to be crushed between your teeth.  

I love Tim Burton’s original Batman!  Great pop art feel!  I love the Prince soundtrack for it!  Keaton is still the best Batman.  BY FAR!!!  Basquiat’s paintings and Mark Rothko’s paintings I love!  

I watched the documentary David Lynch: The Art Life yesterday and found it to be most inspiring.  The new season of Twin Peaks has made me appreciate and even love Inland Empire.  And by that I mean I also love the new Twin Peaks season!  I guess I’m just a fanboy!  I don’t care!  Love!  Inspiration!  Art!

Maybe I should just watch Barry Lyndon again!  Too late!  

OMG!!! He was vomiting up pain and sorrow in the form of creamed corn!!!

How can I possibly write about something so inscrutable?  

3 was my favorite I think.  If someone would put a gun to my head I would definitely say 3 was my favorite.  I was recently in the home of a beloved friend and I playfully put a gun to my head.  A big black gun.  It actually belonged to someone other than my friend though it was there in a nice box for safe keeping.  It was an unusual sensation.  We discussed what a poor day for him it’d be if I’d actually gone through with it or if an accident had taken place. Likely, there would have been a long moment of stark shock mingled with the toxic flowing silence immediately following the big bang (not the hypothetical creation of the universe).  Then there would be the necessary phone call(s) along with plentiful and uncomfortable explanation to uniforms and folks in the inner circle.  It would certainly necessitate alternate sleeping arrangements for several nights and perhaps a total upheaval of a freshly painted interior (I was present for only a very small part of that though we did joyously make time for black coffee and looking at some beautiful women wearing fishnet hosiery, one of several fatal weaknesses for yours falsely.  But am I talking about of the coffee or the fishnet hosiery or somehow radically both?).  

But yes, 3 was definitely it.  I came to that conclusion after talking to an electric tree which had a flesh growth on top.  Don’t go all Freudian on me, please!  Sometimes a glass box is just a glass box!  I love the expansiveness of a freeway passing through a scorching desert.  And where the hell was I?  Was I out in space or something?  This is precisely what makes everything so great and necessary and proves once and for all what a worthless individual I am.  I was following a woman with no eyes to the very top.  The cover story was loosey goosey.  That man disappeared in a puff of smoke and southern fried screams some twenty-six odd years ago.  Who killed her?  She looked damn fine!  And a bit like someone I knew but I could not place it.  Thank You so much for this! 

There was a sensation of a large mound of guacamole being forcefully inserted into my mouth whilst I screamed in primal fear and mortal agony.  

I guess those were the events as they unfolded.  There was the possibility of a sweet betrayal.  If there existed the possibility of a white collared shirt with long sleeves – a glorious return of such – then this betrayal would be much more guaranteed.  Traitor.  Treachery.  It’s okay. I’ve dealt with industrial saboteurs before.  Oh, if only.  You should have warned me!  I nearly watched that movie about noodles the other day.  It seemed richly appropriate.  There was a real tactile desire there.  This was created with a very tactile approach.  Close proximity.  Yellow.  Cornflower.  Yellow and black.  Durcal.  Not quite Durcal but you get the idea, don’t you?  It all comes down to secret codes.  There was a whole history created in that moment.  A history which has never and will never happen except all at once and for always.  There were drinks and dancing and laughing and long lovely nights where the morning remained light years away.  And then she was in his arms while the pigs were kept at bay and then he was resting his dark sleek head against her shoulder.  

I am looking forward to Shakira’s new album later this week.  I’m still constantly listening to Sofia Rei’s De Tierra y Oro album.  That album came at the perfect time and calms my restless and worthless spirit.  And damn!  Jorge Roeder’s bass playing on that release is some of the best and most sumptuous my waxy earholes have been blessed to hear!  And the production by those two really lets that gorgeous upright bass sound breathe as it should.  If only I lived in a purple tinged apartment with a purple ocean outside and where every day and every moment was nighttime!  I think I need to listen to more Frank Zappa.  

When I saw my own shadow was evil born?  Please don’t let this intense feeling of inspiration be taken away!  I am so very unworthy.  

I think it looks rather silly when a guitarist or bassist wears a trench coat on stage while playing.  That’s just my opinion, folks!  Please don’t crucify me just for having an opinion.  We should all hit the treadmill once in a while!  Anyone for tennis?!  Gotta love Looney Tunes!

I need to buy and voraciously read that trilogy penned by Henry Miller.  How could I have been so ignorant, filthy and degenerate?!  All I’ve ever read by him is Tropic of Cancer!  Depressingly predictable, am I right?  Yes, I am not very well read.  I am in blunt terms a fucking idiot!  But maybe there is still time to turn it all around.  Maybe there’s still time to save me from myself and get my head on straight!  

Is sex always the gateway to evil?  Is that moment in the blue when we discovered the empire inside of us comparable to that gold-panning man climbing up through the window and entering surreptitiously?  There was pleasure at first.  And then suspicions and then questions.  And finally, there was screaming.  I did something horrifying yesterday but I know it was actually tomorrow.  

I saw that very same red lamp at a dingy strip club once.  I left as she was about to go on stage.  I’m not talking about the lamp.

I like Martin Scorsese’s remake of Cape Fear quite a lot.  Robert De Niro and Juliette Lewis give electrifying performances!   What a colorful film. Literally.  Ol’ Marty’s direction and the cinematography is so super ultra-flashy almost to the point of inducing a minor headache!  But I liked that aspect.  The whole thing was the right amount of over the top.  I’m just not a very good writer.    

The Twin Peaks premiere was amaze-balls as the youngsters like to say.  I was up til all mad-monkey hours of the morning.  Four hours I lived there.  Tears of joy.  Pure.  Love.  It felt very much like the serialized television equivalent of a latter day Scott Walker song!  You know, something from Tilt or The Drift or Bish Bosch.  That is most assuredly a very good thing. 

“What the hell?”  What a line!  Perfectly delivered.  

1,265

So I saw Alien: Covenant last night.  I love the poster. 

A few years on and it hit me like a sack of bricks while I was driving: Curse of Chucky is a shockingly satisfying movie, especially considering it is the sixth entry in a horror series!  Fiona Dourif was great!  Great!  I look forward to Cult of Chucky out later this year and it is currently the only thing I have to stay my hand after Twin Peaks concludes at the end of summer.  We’ll see if it is strong enough.    

The super card of honor.  Eleven.  I would have shown up at 5 PM Eastern.  But would I have left promptly at 6:30 PM (also Eastern?).  That is the interesting question (only to me).  Truly, only the Underground is getting it right as far as that goes.  I’m of course only referring to the continental U.S.  It was quite good.  Quite quite good.  I would have stayed an eternity for merch, photographs and felt tip pens.  As we traverse further down these dreams I catch them at just the right moment.  Afterward.  From one identity to another.  Don’t (talking to myself) use a word that’s like “change”.  After the work, after the job.  Perfume.  Going to simply toss.  I make an offer.  No object.  Breathe it in.  deep.  

Director James Wan has released a couple pictures of Amber Heard as Mera from his upcoming Aquaman movie and all I can say is humina humina humina!  Joy! 

Tom Hardy is playing Venom in a Venom solo movie!  That is weird!  Good casting though!  Gimme a nice mean beefy Venom!  Can’t be any worse than Spider-Man 3!  Actually, yeah it can because both Amazing Spider-Man movies were worse and it is Sony at the helm again!  I hope we get a lot of references to Todd McFarlane’s classic art and another bizarre voice from Hardy! 

Too much thinking of Kong lately.  And I’m not talking about the cinema icon.  And there’s The Little Star, returning to haunt my dreams again.  The most pretty.  Also, the most….   

And just like that.  After seeing a quickly made, colorful and gaudy poster I realize I’m living in the wrong place. What a fool I am.  What I’ve always been.  What a fool I’ll always be.

Yes, we are finally seeing remastered blu ray releases of Suspiria and Don’t Torture a Duckling!  Thank You!!!  Thank You so much!!! 

The violent seizure of someone’s property is my bold new obsession!  Don’t forget the accent over the n.  Blue or black.  And Dern.  Dern is also part and parcel of this boldness and newness.  The pages were tall.  Oh, the UK and its crazy tall periodicals. 

I think O is the answer.  Avid followers of my worthless work will know exactly what that means.  O is the example I need to follow for everything else.  For the real Jackal.  For my Rhapsody in Blue.  Heaven scent.  O is the proof positive of everything.  but is it really O or a doppelganger from an alternate dimension?  Would that make a difference? Or would that be preferable?  

Twin Peaks starts up again this Sunday.  I’ve been slowly but surely going through the old series, this time with a drinking buddy.  I’ve discovered nuance I missed in my initial viewings.  I am reassessing and reevaluating.  I’m drinking a lot of coffee and eating a lot of pie.  I am saddened that Lynch said he will likely never make another movie.  Since his last flick – Inland Empire – came out in 2006 I am inclined to believe him.  Yet I am grateful for what is to come and filled with girlish glee over this upcoming 18-episode saga.  

Forced kissing.  Green.  Escape.  The last one won’t make much sense after a while.  

Rabbit sitcoms.  I guess I need to look within.  It is something very easy to admire but not easy to like or love.  And good heavens, is it ever ugly!  But is there a kind of rough beauty in the ugliness?  I think so.  If I want shock value I guess I better look in the mirror.  We’re all just whores dying in the street.  Brutal fucking murder!  The hour of the wolf is nigh.  I am filled with curiosity.  Experiment is the proper word.  The end result is endlessly fascinating.  If only I could get my hands on those polish tunes.  Get it in wax!  It is certainly a bizarre denouement.  Of course, I say to myself as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  

I really like that Bowie b-side Holy Holy. Is it a b-side?  Whatever, I like it.  Rapine, just in case I forget.  Won’t forget the accent though. 

Sofia Rei’s album De Tierra Y Oro is so gorgeous and necessary right now.  She has a new album out, a tribute to Violeta Parra.  I need to purchase this immediately! And Café Tacuba’s new album!  There! I just ordered the new Café Tacuba album!  Rei is next on my list! And Shakira’s new album comes out in a week!  And she just released that song “Nada”!  Damn, that is a beautiful song!  Classic Shakira!  Gave me all the right feels!  Or did it?  Lots of sunny and lovely Latin tunes for yours falsely as of late! 

Maybe I need to do TM.  Is that a viable option?  Would it be a helpful option?  Would I be able to catch bigger fish if I started? I have a thousand dollars lying around.  I should purchase a word.  Or should I begin an epic journey into Ju-Jitsu?!  I would probably fail at both avenues.  

So the trailer for the new Star Trek show Star Trek Discovery premiered yesterday and everyone got their knickers in a twist about it!  Or did they?!  Honestly, it’s hard for me to gauge popular reaction sometimes.  Partly because I’m a miserable worthless failure but also partly because I’m not very intelligent or perceptive.  But what is my reaction?  That is the big question that literally no one is asking.  Immediately, I am excited simply at the prospect of having a new Star Trek show after what feels like an eternity since those dark days of Star Nemesis and then Enterprise fading way (though I actually adored that Troi was unexpectedly in the final episode as I’ve long considered Deanna Troi to be one of the great loves of my life).  I am immediately chagrinned it is another prequel series, seemingly taking place after Enterprise and before the original series.  Did we need another prequel series?!  I only hope and pray it does not have the same feel as the newer Abram Star Trek movies as I have slowly begun to despise those.  Woe is me.  But overall, I’m damn excited!  How could not I be?!  I’m always excited for any new iteration of Trek and the trailer had all kinds of good glossy shiny slickness!  And Klingons (though I’m not crazy about their design)!  And Michelle Yeoh!  She’s awesome!  I will try to remain Roddenberryish optimistic and go in with an open heart and mind!

I actually liked the Black Lightning trailer better!  Looks like that’s another damn series I’ll have to watch!

Finally. Sadly.  I saw you several years ago at Red Rocks in Colarado. Soundgarden and Nine Inch Nails.  That is a good memory.  Great show.  I saw you last year by yourself in a little theatre across from an Italian bistro.  Lovely show.  Soundgarden.  Temple of the Dog.  Audioslave.  Solo albums.  Everything in between.  Thanks for all the music, concerts and memories.  RIP Chris Cornell.  

right after, please drop the bridge on me

When I woke up this morning I walked over to the balcony and admired the gorgeosity of the day.  I felt like it was for me.  Still, my strongest desire was to crawl back into bed, grab a gun and blow my brains out.  I did not follow that path.

I errored.  Hot damn, did I error.  Multiple errors in so many different ways.  I did what Roland sometimes accused people of doing.  How I loathe myself.  

His tallywacker suckin’ is all she wants.  

World War Z was a giant pile of crap so I am beyond heartbroken that David Fincher has decided to further degrade his once great career by directing the sequel!  I half-kid. WWZ was indeed awful but I guess Fincher hasn’t degraded himself that much.  Still, with Benjamin Button, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Gone Girl and now this I must simply resign myself to the fact that the Fincher of yore who made such great films as Seven, Zodiac and even The Social Network (which to be fair did come after Benjamin Button) no longer exists.  Oh Fincher, why have you forsaken me?!  

The Shining is one of my favorite movies of all time.  I can’t deny that.  I wouldn’t even dream of denying it.  

It’s happening again.  The morning sun on their faces really shows their age.  I don’t like actor Sean Penn but I caught the 90’s movie Dead Man Walking on the ol’ television recently.  Good flick.  

She looked like Barbi.  Not the doll though.  I ain’t talking about the doll.  Or maybe it wasn’t exactly like her.  I think it was though, maybe an older version.  Maybe a version from several years later.  there was a moment of comfort.  She showed me her soul.  Soul isn’t quite right.  I think it is something similar though.  There is a plurality.  Where were?  Something catastrophic had maybe just happened.  It was a wonderful moment no unlike real life. 

Those who follow my worthless work no doubt recall I am a huge fan of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series.  I’ve read the entire series a whopping two times and plan to reread it before the movie comes out in August.  However I was not convinced at all by the recently released trailer.  Woe is me.  Idris Elba and Matthew M look perfectly cast as Roland Deschain and his foil Randall Flagg AKA The Man in Black but other than that…whatever, I lost interest in my thoughts.  Love the books.  Movie doesn’t look great.  I like some of the music.  I like the casting.  I’ll still be there opening night.  I’m such a useless person. 

I was just trying to show.  Trying to provide a clear example.  The before and after.  The great nothing.  The ease with which it was all (not) accomplished.  But I was robbed on this chance.  Deservedly so.  There was black and then blue, my Rhapsody in Blue.  And now there is only the Jackal and the Witch and my eyes are on both.  He knows that she saw him.  He is an ugly pathetic thing.  

Marcela.  Love. 

Tomorrow – and by tomorrow I mean a couple days ago – the book A New Model: What Confidence, Beauty and Power Really Look Like by Ashley Graham goes on sale wherever books are sold and promises to be a collection of “insightful, provocative essays”.  The chances that I will purchase this book and read it are high.  It will likely not be the next book I read however I will gingerly toss it onto the stack and occasionally salivate like a rabid dog over the photos.  For years now I’ve had a highly inappropriate and dangerous obsession with Ashley Graham and it is certain this tome will only send me further down that rabbit hole.  I’m currently eking my way through The Virgin Suicides.  Sadly, I must confess I am barely lukewarm on that book but we’ll see how it turns out.  

The one big exception to my rule is Mike Patton’s 2010 album Mondo Cane.  This was recorded with an orchestra but it is not a giant steaming pile of crap like other rock albums recorded with orchestra.  Though to be fair, it is certainly not a straight rock album so maybe it’s not quite the exception I believe it to be.  Maybe it’s finally time to end it all.  Love the album though. 

The shininess of Ecuador.  Or should it be shimmering.  I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore.  Few do.  How long have I been waiting?  Feels like centuries.  All four.  Four in one.  But so many others.  With tasers.  Laughing.  And then there was the Baby Puma.  But different this time.  Bedecked in iconography.  Not a flag, not quite.  But I looked up in the sky and saw so many stars and my response was immediate.  I cannot keep from sinning.  Denier and sweat.  My life comes down to only a couple things.  I have no few reasons left to live.  Those are a couple.  Wilt Stillman is quickly becoming one of my all-time favorites.  He is 3 for 3 right now.  3 PERFECT for 3 PERFECT.  It’s hard to choose a favorite from what I’ve seen.  Maybe the last days of disco.  Barcelona will be en route very soon.  

I love the Hellboy movies.  Did you know that?  How could you.  They are two great movies.  I was chagrinned to hear the recent announcement that there is a cinematic reboot in the works and director Guillermo Del Toro and star Ron Perlman will no longer be involved.  For decades I’d been hoping for a third and final film from that team but I suppose I will have to content myself with two perfect flicks.  I do think the reboot has potential to be quite good and gritty and with much more of an R-rated horror slant.  Neil Marshall is a good choice of director for this and the dude from Stranger Things has the head shape!  I will remain optimistic that we will get great Hellboy films!  Though I suspect that Guillermo and Ron will forever remain the Tim and Michael of this universe in my ugly and miserable heart of hearts.

  
I’ve got a wonderful life, two kids of my own!  

The most recent and last Wonder Woman trailer still got me excited and gave me the good feels despite its use of a typically horrible Imagine Dragons song!  

Me excited for new Shakira album.  El Dorado.  I like that title.  Actually, i fucking love that title!  Hopefully I fucking love the album.  Only time will tell.  

I am still a worthless individual.  

And just like that, there’s another new preview for the new Twin Peaks series.  Oh man I so fucking pumped and ready for this!  Lynch, my life for you!  

I have a nice steady stream of hip shit to keep me alive for the next few weeks: Alien Covenant next week followed Twin Peaks premiere that weekend followed by Shakira’s new album the following week and Wonder Woman the week after.  Then, once Twin Peaks has finished, will I at last do what is obviously the only right thing to do and throw myself into the river?  

Dolphins are like rich chocolate cake (saw this on ivories, cherish)

The Bird With the Crystal Plumage is getting a slick hip cool awesome deluxe blu ray release this July!  That is a day one purchase for yours falsely.  I love that flick!  One of my favorite Giallos and could be my favorite Argento flick!  I’ll watch it in the hopes of forgetting what a worthless loser I am for a couple remastered hours.  But please give me a bluray of Don’t Torture a Duckling!  That’s my fucking favorite!  I will forever be grateful to Blue Underground for my DVD copy which I’ve watched on a daily basis for the past forty seven hundred years but I desperately want an upgrade!  I will do anything to make this happen, kill anyone.  Good ol’ Stadium Arcadium!  Hard to believe it’s been more than a decade since I bought that one and listened to it to death!  If only that death had been mine….

Please don’t ever leave me. No one would understand the charts except Scott.  Recently, it’s become even more shaved down.  I couldn’t agree more that we’ll make great pets.  I did not have that dream of hiding in the closet while two met entered our home and I was terrified that I would never see my parents again.  Were they men?  Planet Earth has a lot of special memories for me.  It the first I anticipated.  The first new that I went for and experienced in the same time/space continuum as everyone else.  Do you remember? I’m addressing that question to someone who does not read my work and hasn’t for quite some time.  You were with me through that unforgettable moment as I fished coins from my lint filled pockets and spilled them out all over the cold hard floor.  I begged for your help but you only turned your head away in frustration.  I understand.  A model used to be a role model.  Great memories.  I still love it.  I try to be unapologetic.  That bridge on the opening number.  I like that sound.  Airy.  Breathy.  Spacey.  Open.  

Reaction within the community has been hotly divided but I actually quite like Morris Day’s new song and find it to be a good, heartfelt tribute.  Is it cheesy?  Yes, but The Time always had a strong thick element of cheese which I maintain was a chief part of their appeal.  Word on the streets is that Day is prepping a solo album under Snoop Dogg’s label (this new song was produced by Snoop I hear or maybe I’m just disseminating erroneous information, as is my wont) and I will definitely check it out when it drops.  Then I’ll strip naked and dance a ballet or maybe eat a fruit cocktail (I ain’t too hungry).  

True to my word I have begun reading The Virgin Suicides.  It is not a very long book; I expect to finish it sometime this miserable week.  I enjoyed the first two chapters.  What more can a man in my position say?  I watched a lot of smoking videos today.  

I can’t think straight right now at all.  My brain is one fire (or is that my heart?).  Wheel turning.  She looks like Ecuador.  Yes, bright Ecuador!  I could not see The Jackal.  But maybe Ecuador.  Mother, forgive me. 

As is so often the case I was dead wrong about something in my last blog post.  I said Delfonics but what I should have said was Stylistics.  Technically I could still be considered right.  But I was also wrong.  Man, I’m stupid.  One slithering idiot!  The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.  I will always prefer the Experience.  Love em all.  But always the Experience is number one.  All time lush classic.  Summer.  Driving around.  Memories.  Life giving sun.  Love.  Colors everywhere.  Dreams.  

The Little Star is torturing me again.  But now there is a Puma in the mix as well. I am so impure. The Little Star fell from the sky in a flash of red and echoing screams and it was horrifying.  And then a return with a flash of gold this time.  We live in a world of influencers.  Why have we not been destroyed yet?  

What can I say; Lovesexy blew my fragile eggshell mind when I bought back in the great year of 1988.  I didn’t quite get it at first.  But slowly and surely I came to realize it was possibly the greatest thing I’d ever listened to in my utterly failed life.  

I’m going to read Ashley Graham’s book. I think.  Does that make me a bad person?  Who asks questions like that?  Stop asking stupid questions.  

I was not able to see that sweet debut of combat in person.  No, not in person, not live in the classical sense.  But later on.  I am proud.  Or am I pleased?  Or am I both?  Or neither?!  How worthy was the other.  And still, the desire was strong to know the one (girl) who held the ring.  I don’t know anything (why do we have to live in so much pain?).  I like New Power Soul a lot.  Isn’t that a great sentence?  I love the production, the fucking feel of it!  I wanna listen to it while driving around, maybe tomorrow!  I also like that one Black Flag album.  You know the one.  6-pack!  

You should be in a band in Ecuador.  That’s what I would say to you if I knew I you.  I had The Babadook on the in background at some point today.  I love that flick.  And of course La Nave de Los Monstruos.  Gamma and Beta own my heart.  Ana and Lorena.  Commandresses.  Oh, how I need you.  I wish I weren’t.  He realized that shadows collide with people more than people realize.  I am so sick, don’t make do it.  The other, better half of & Louise.  La Big.  But the one I know.  Better the devil you know.  She is like a giant piece of industrial machinery.  And then the beautiful ascent.  

But getting back to what I was saying earlier: Stadium Arcadium, oh the memories!  I gave you a flower.  A rose!  I purchased it a local grocery a dozen or so blocks away…next time I think….

You know, I also really like that album Up! by Shania Twain from way back in 2002.  It is so wonderfully glossy, polished and addictive (country) pop.  So many people misinterpreted the movie It Follows because they just skimmed the surface.  It is not about AIDS, STD’s, or even sex.  It is about the inherent meaningless of life and the horror which accompanies that all-consuming realization.  It makes sense that I was able to see this given how worthless I am.  

I am very thankful that I am rediscovering and reconnecting with Prince’s music.  It was not easy.  But it was very very necessary.  Thank You.  And thank you.  I Wish U Heaven.  

She is like The Jackal.  She is The Jackal.  Icons surround us.  The Little Star.  Ecuador.  Rhapsody in Blue.  All the languages spilling from her mouth.  Release need. 

Spot(A), that was not the word i wanted to use but it is almost a sort of close approximation

At the end times there will be a beautiful woman making guac one moment and in the next she will be gone.  The guac!  In all the cities!  In all the cities!  I drove around today and listened to the song Heart Shaped Box by Nirvana, slowly realizing I don’t really much like that song anymore but acknowledging it was applicable to The Guac Woman as we will be forever in debt to her priceless advice.  Are these the end times?!  Fascinating that there is the some 400 year break after the end of the Old and the beginning of the New.  And one ascended up in a wheel of fire.  Is The Guac Woman prophesizing to me?  To all of us?!  Please help me?!  I don’t know why I phrased that in the form of a question.  My ultimate hope is that she wears RHT pantyhose beneath her work pants along with classic black high heel pumps and at the end of a long hard, sweaty day of advice giving and guac making she kicks off her heels, fills them with thick freshly made guac and then slowly sticks her aromatic hosiery clad feet back inside her guacamole filled heels, making all manner of delightful squishy sounds and causing the glorious green guac to drip down the pumps and spill out onto the floor.  Then she could use my face as her footrest – occasionally verbally berating me by telling me how pathetic I am and forcing me to eat the nylon-clad-feet-sweat-infused guac off her adorable toes and lick it off her lovely arches – while also further prophesying and proffering more priceless advice!  

I recently finished The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch.  It definitely stands on its own as a disturbing, haunting and heartbreaking piece of work.  At the same time it also enriches the Twin Peaks mythology, particularly Fire Walk With Me (always my favorite piece of the Twin Peaks pie) and makes the ending of that particular work feel even more earned.  Though who knows what the future and Showtime may bring?! 

Ever since a couple days ago I’ve reacquainting myself with the Emancipation album, chiefly focusing on disc 1 (though disc 2 may be my favorite but I also love a lot of disc 3!).  Somebody’s Somebody is such a great beautiful, lush song, great listening in the middle of a rainy night.  I want to subliminally dedicate my listening of that song to a dear friend right now.  You know who you are!  Damn it, you know!  Get your head out of the mud baby!  That’s what Bono says on the title track of U2’s 1993 year album Zooropa!  Love that song!  Fucking love that album!  Real underrated!  Or is it?!  A key release in their catalogue.  I like that line because it’s a real polite way of saying pull your head out of your ass!  That’s what I want to say to that dear friend to whom I dedicated Somebody’s Somebody!  Pull your head out of your ass baby!  I want to listen to Get Yo Groove On right now.  I’ll listen to Emancipation (not sure which disc, maybe all of them tee hee!) and then I’ll listen to Zooropa!  Then I won’t want to die as much as I do right now, especially if I start hitting the sauce!  Tequila shots, boys!  And whiskey on the rocks!  Hey, that’s an AC DC song, from one of their lesser albums – 1995’s Ballbreaker.  That one was produced by Rick Rubin!  He produces everything!  I like the first song on that album.  Don’t remember too much else about it though I’d bet my miserable worthless life it sounds like every other AC DC album.  But with Rick Rubinesque production!  Rubinesque burlesque!  And Courtin’ Time!  Such a groovy, jaunty little thing!  And the Delfonics cover!  The Delfonics were heavily referenced in Jackie Brown, still my favorite Tarantino flick!  Maybe I’ll read the book!  Hell, maybe I won’t!  The Hateful Eight was real good too!  Whatever the fuck ever, huh?! 

I had the classic Spike Lee joint Do the Right Thing on in the background while I wrote all this crap.  I love Spike Lee joints.  Actually, I just realized what a blatant lie that was.  I had that joint on whilst I was reading.  While I was writing this crap I actually had on Michael Haneke’s creepy French flick Cache.  I love Cache.  It has stayed with me in big ways since I watched it so many years ago, alone in my post flat and wishing for death (how little things have changed).  It takes a big plot device from David Lynch’s Lost Highway (Haneke himself seems to acknowledge this given the name of one of the characters) though he does his own uniquely disturbing thing with that device before quickly veering off in a wildly different and rewarding direction.  I like the cover too.  All things became clear.  I like Juliette Binoche quite a lot.  

She was thinking of death as a companion she longed to meet.  How lovely.  

Kim Kardashian West seems like a very stupid person.  I’m not sure how I feel about those who watch her show(s?).  Great ass though!  What can I say?  Great ass!  I guess that makes it all okay.  Or does it?  The more I discover the less I want to know.  On an unrelated subject I love that movie I watched the other month.  We Are the Flesh!  It’s still rattling around inside my empty skull!  We are the flesh.  That is an affirmative statement.  

Very recently the realization was too clear to deny.  The source of my bitterness.  No, that’s not quite right.  That’s something separate.  But no, I judged you, them, him and/or her, thinking you were all a fool for not being as bitter as I, for still clinging to hope and for feeble whatever significance you ascribed to things.  Maybe I was the fool.  Probably.  Though I suppose it doesn’t matter as no one ever listens to me anyway.  Happy Earth Day everyone!  Don’t forget to earth it up!  Eat lots of dirt and rubbish!  That’s all we are anyway, just little pieces of dirt!  

I need to do more research (maybe even legal research!) but there seems to be no Biblical support for the rapture (in the Left Behind sense).  This seems to be something which came from a different source entirely and then through the years was somehow lumped into Protestant Christianity (maybe Catholicism too, I don’t know!)!  I must dig deeper!  If any of my readers believe in the rapture let me know in the comments below how ya’ll became so stupid!  

I miss you terribly.  Who am I even talking about anymore?  Kind of hard to do these things now that VCR’s have gone the way of the great and noble dodo.  

O?

please stop the ritual of slow, slow, slow/fast and then fast, i am so so sorry for everything me

Continuity from last time folks, I’m all about the continuity: I awoke today and it was Adamari’s legs which made my life worth living again, if only for one more day.  We can be heroes!  Just for one day.  I think I put Sara last time but I meant Sofia.  Why are you so stupid, I ask myself?!  That’s something my mother asked me on more than one occasion.  Like many questions, it remains unanswered.  Oh wait, I actually did it right!  But the question is still valid.  I think I want to read the book The Virgin Suicides.  Maybe I will.  Also, I really like the song Damned If I Do by The Artist Formerly Known As Prince from the Emancipation album.  I love that album.  The end of that song has a Santannaesque Latin jam that I totes dig!  I like to drive around with the windows down and that tune blaring!  I sometimes wonder if I am me or if I am actually a shape shifting space alien impersonating me.  The more I discover the less I want to know.  Oh, and I coincidentally I listened to that aforementioned song yesterday while riding around in my automobile.  Later that same night I spent several hours crawling around on my floor naked, licking myself and eating hair and lint to cough up later on while pretending I’m a cat.  

Just look at us.  What pathetic, ugly, stupid things we are.  Laughing, crying, fucking, not understanding a thing.  We are not what was intended.  What small sad lives we all lead.  Where is the meteorite I was promised?!  Please continue to fake it though.  You grew up.  You’re happy. 

You know, I gotta admit: it did look good in certain shots but on the whole I do not like the Batman suit in The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises.  It’s just too fucking busy and segmented and plasticcy and unnecessarily complicated and bulky and clunky and weird.  I just don’t like it.  I’m sorry.  I much much prefer the suit from Batman Begins and the suits from the 2 Tim Burton movies.  I would likely even prefer the suits from Batman Forever and Batman and Robin (not the ones they wore at the end of those movies) if they removed the Bat-areolas.  What can I say?! 

I was pleased as proverbial punch last night to learn that The X-Files is coming back for another cute little season later this year, this time for 10 episodes.  I’ve always been a big X fan and I loved the little 6 episode season from last year!  I’ve watched it multiple times – sometimes with a gun to my head – and have enjoyed it roughly equally each and every time.   

It was a familiar rhapsody in blue.  And a compliment not paid.  And familiar and hollow pleas for forgiveness.  We’re awful.  Awful.  So much blue though.  Everything is blue.  Electric blue, that’s the color of my room, where I will live.  I cribbed that last one from David.  Thank you, David.  Maybe I’ll get the picture disc tomorrow.  Maybe not though.  

I hate myself so much. no need to mince words!  Or wince birds for that matter!  But yes, I hate hate hate myself.  Desire is such an ugly disgusting thing.  Oh I wish I were Dennis when around you.  Or Tom.  Or that classic Dennis/Tom hybrid.  I’m an alcoholic in real life and an alcoholic in my fantasy life.  There is empty stickiness later on.  Everything is so happy.  He comes to me in the middle of the night and makes me open wide.  Please, I just want to cry and let it all out and then die.  I don’t want to view myself through her eyes because that would be too awful.  My rhapsody in blue, please forgive the endless longings.  I guess we’re all crazy.  I am infinity.  I wish everyone would please stop talking to me.  I wouldn’t even care except….  Oh no, we are such sad disgusting things, spinning our little wheels in our pathetic useless lives, thinking what we do matters.  I suppose I justify all manner of fucked up and worthless things to myself.  One day it will all be exposed and everyone will point and laugh.  You didn’t have to take that one off the tab.  Take care.  Don’t take care, that’s what should have been said.  A ballroom where we are all wearing masks; let me drink it all away.  Except us two that is.  And then you and the real one who matters both need me on the train or in the house and look at me with a bit of horror afterward but I’ve never been more real, even when or especially when I am cleaning blood off my vest.  I know less and less about who I am or who anyone else is.  I feel so bad.  I feel so bad. 

Maybe I’ll watch the show Outlander some time.  I don’t know, maybe I won’t.  Neither would surprise me.  

Pity on all these wilfully ignorant worthless fucks. 

Empty.  It’s all meaningless.  It is truly sad to watch us desperately flail about in a pointless attempt to ascribe some significance to it all.  I am the very worst offender.   I am a fraud.  He’s tearing it up, the friend said, in regards to an avant-garde sax solo.  When the royalty needed sax, he called Candy.  I should have recommended something to the Indian girl.  French horror.  

I’ve forgotten the face of my….  I think I need to wear a black shirt with a button up white shirt over it or a white jacket over it.  Grey would probably work too.  Actually grey might work better.  No collars though.  I became trapped on the island.  It was my own fault.  No one else’s.  It’s never anyone else’s fault no matter how much we wish it were so.  This reading here at the end did me a world of good.  It’s a shame how worthless I am.  Lovely smile I would say.  Forever in debt.  So easy to fashion.  Green. 

The things I love do not receive the best of me.  I am an awful terrible thing and I deserve an awful end.   

Today was one year.  I see little need in pointing certain things out but there it is.  Forever everything.  Always enriching.  Always inspiring.  Of course, I Wish U Heaven.  

3 of 1 of 1 of another equals 5 which is odd which is what i like slash need slash want

Recently, I’ve still been listening to a lot of AXXoNN, my favorite radio show.  My clothes smell like tapioca pudding and I wouldn’t want it any other way.  Magenta.  Or fuchsia.  Already my memory is growing fuzzier than a big pile of fuzz fished out of my jeans pocket.  If I wore jeans that is.  She looked just like Tiffany though I wouldn’t realize it until precious moments later.  Then I could not get it or her out of my head.  It’s something akin to a pinwheel, right?  the princess was involved on more than one occasion.  I’m going to cut myself with a razor and leave the blood there. you’ll understand when you get older.  But yes, she looked very much like Tiffany, especially when she smiled and it was one magical moment.  They were not being paid for their time.  I kept asking for more manila folders.  Ulterior motives.  Back and forth in front of me.  Lovely.  

More than a year on and less than a year on.  Some know what it is about.  Reading has been hurting me.  

Woke up in a panic and wanted to end it all but I didn’t.  I think I’ll pick up Haim’s album.  I loved that live cover they did of I Would Die 4 U by Prince and the Revolution from the little known 1984 album Purple Rain (what an amazing piece of art!  One of the best of all time!).  I’ve often maintained that I Would Die 4 U is my favorite song from that album and am forever grateful I was able to see it performed live.  It truly is one of my favorite songs ever.  I think I’ll listen The Love Symbol Album today.  And/or Diamonds and Pearls.  And/or Come.  And/or The Gold Experience.  And/or Emancipation.  And/or Mayte’s album Child of the Sun.  And/or the NPG album Exodus.  Man, I just adore that whole era.  Some of my favorite sunniest most brilliantist music.  

Have I underrated Ben Shepherd as a bassist?  Maybe.  I’ve been having Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York on in the background a lot recently.  I don’t consider it a great movie honestly.  But Daniel Day Lewis’s performance as Bill the Butcher is fucking hypnotic and a weird second cousin to the cat he played in There Will Be Blood (A much better movie!  Or is it?!).

  
I’m getting excited for that Twin Peaks revival!  I need to start drinking a lot more black coffee and eating a lot more pie.  Maybe cherry (I’m just dying to taste your flavor, girl).  

I’m about halfway through Mayte’s book.  Heartbreaking.  Lovely.  Elegant.  Beautiful.  A unique and refreshing perspective.  It’s still hard to believe…both of them….

I’ve now purchased it and I love Haim’s first album.  Great album!  Great songs!  Great new wave feel!  Great thick P-bass sound driving it all!  And live, Este’s bass-faces are surreal, adorable, bizarre, sexy, lovely, outrageous, gregarious, flamboyant, odd, hypnotic, confrontational and enchanting!  And Sofia Rei’s album De Tierra y Oro?!  Beautiful.  Life affirming.  Much needed.  Thank You.  

Maybe I should have been a farmer, I think to myself, apropos of nothing.  

I spent all night looking for my copy of The 36th Chamber of Shaolin but I did not find it until just a few minutes ago.  And then there it was, right where I left it!

I’ve now finished Mayte’s book.  It made me cry multiple times.  I’m pleased to report it was not at all a tawdry or scandalous tell-all but rather quite a lovely, respectful and reflective look at their relationship and that era.  It was an enriching read. 

In many of my sweetest dreams I am murdered by a laughing Kate Del Castillo while she is wearing hosiery.  I’ve watched 4 episodes of her show Ingobernable on Netflix.  It is a good show I think.  It has good production values.  It is nice to look at.  The actors do well.  The story is interesting.  I have watched the 30 second YouTube video of her explaining how to pronounce the show’s title five thousand times.  I like to watch it while chugging black coffee and wondering why I exist.  

It’s only taken 8 short years but U2’s 2009 album No Line on the Horizon is finally growing on me in big bold ways!  That album’s been a constant in my automobile, my posh flat and in the diseased inner corridors of my brain for the past several weeks and I’m really feeling the grooves, messages and production.  I can’t say it is up there with Achtung Baby or Zooropa but it has a similarly experimental, angular, lush, obtuse, fascinating, shimmery, washy, plumy feel to it and I’d probably put it above Pop.  I still love that gaudy single Get on Your Boots and recently learned the bassline when I wasn’t busy hating myself and contemplating the strength of my ceiling fan.  Unknown Caller – I love those group harmonies and the quirky lyrics!  Quirky as fuck!  And that last song Cedars of Lebanon poignantly shifts perspective and serves up a subtle…I don’t know, I lost interest in my paragraph but not this album.  I like this album lots.  

Oh Adamari…how I adore those legs.  Let me count thy ways: four hundred and fifty seven billion!  They are the reason I wake up every morning.  That green dress!  Oh please, oh please, that green dress!  Oh, someone help me…oh God….  The only reason one might say.  I hate myself so much and often wish…trailing off again….

I’m gonna throw up a few trailers here and give some brief thoughts.  I love trailers.  Often, trailers are better the movie itself which is always a great surprise.  

This first trailer is for Justice League which is…I don’t know what to think.  Lots of special effects.  Lots of dark colors.  I cant lie.  Every time these characters are brought to the big screen the fanboy in me is always simultaneously ejaculating crystal colored come as well as letting loose with highly explosive red hot diarrhea right into his formerly clean and crisp white jockies!  What a feeling!  The excitement just overtakes me!  I am going to remain cautiously optimistic.  It is true that the DC on film universe is a bit of a mess right now but I’m just going to take it as it comes and just judge each thing film by film.  I’m pumped to see Aquaman and Mera (swoon) and to see what they do with the Flash and with Jack Kirby’s Fourth World mythology which I adore (almost as much as Adamari’s legs) and I squealed with girlish glee at the end there when Wonder Woman (swoon) jumps down and lands in front of Aquaman and Cyborg, ready to throw down!  

This second trailer is for Stephen King’s It!  It is one of my favorite books of all time and I found the massive brick like tome to be a totally engrossing and terrifying read, one to which I regularly return for inspiration and to relive those thrills.  Aside from Tim Curry’s performance as the titular It AKA Pennywise the Dancing Clown AKA Bob Gray I’ve always found the 1990 miniseries to be a humongous pile of steaming crap!  Still, I’m not fully convinced by this trailer despite the huge positive reaction it yielded in the epic online communication.  The cinematography by Oldboy’s Chung-hoon Chung looks great but…I don’t know…maybe I just need to see more Pennywise to know for sure but I’m not yet convinced.  Hell, I’ll still be there opening night though!  Such is the nature of wisdom.  

And the last trailer is the most recent one shown for Wonder Woman.  This is the movie I’m most excited to see this humble year and I’ve LOVED all the trailers so far.  This makes me very worried that the movie will be bad, tee hee.   Love the color, the brightness, and it seems they’ve really captured the heart of the character.  There at the end when she says she is Diana of Themyscira…that makes my heart melt!  Please be good!  PLEASE!!!  

Diamonds and Pearls is like thick chocolate cake and lemonade.  And I mean that in a good way.  I still prefer Symbol though.  I like 3121 a lot too! Probably not one of my fave faves but I likes it a lot and it has lots o good memories attached.  And the Batman soundtrack!  Both of em!  Love em!  Electric Chaaaiiirrr!!!  Partyman!  Trust (Who do ya?)!  Lemon Crush!  Batdance!  I’ve seen the future and it will be….  I need to give up the chains!  If I don’t I will die!  (Maybe I shouldn’t then, huh?!)  I love 3 Chains O Gold!  And Vicki Waiting!  Oh man, still I keep Vicki waiting. 

Oh, and I just watched the trailer for American Assassin and I was surprisingly engaged!  No doubt due to the presences of Sanaa Lathan (swoon) and Michael Keaton (swoon!)!  This reminds me I must hitchhike on over to Ye Olde Conglomerate today to purchase a copy of The Founder!  And maybe that one book about suicide!  My life for The Keats!  

Chicas Kimba (among several) others really helped me out yesterday.  Explosive help!