rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

I watched two movies today. Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and Glengarry Glen Ross.
you can guess which one I liked more.

well, no, you probably can’t. that’s not a fair question. while Glengarry Glen Ross is considered by many to be among the finest films made in the last couple decades, I’ve been known to enjoy a shitty movie or two. anybody ever see Cop and a Half? Henry Winkler directed!

but, no, really. besides the fact that Milla Jovovich was in Resident Evil, it sucked. god DAMN, she’s hot. and the other movie, well, it’s pretty fucking good, even though it was a lot like watching a stage play. which is what it was originally written for, I’m told.

anyway.
best exchange of the Glengarry -

Jack Lemmon: I’m eating her crumb cake…
Al Pacino: how was it?
Lemmon: … from the store.
Pacino: … fuck her.

moral of the story:
I don’t ever wanna be a salesman, ma. honest!

it’s real, real late, but here’s an insta-update:

-last night I woke up around 5 a.m. and thought I had pissed the bed (never done that before, God bless) but it turns out that my upstairs neighbor had actually just let his huge fishtank overflow again, and fish water was leaking through the ceiling. again.
this has happened before.
I moved to the couch.

-I had this little kernel shell from some popcorn I ate on tuesday lodged in my back molars, and it was starting to flare. took care of business, though. I got that fucker out of there with some floss. word.

-Ben wants me to go with him to videotape the UPCOMING COKEDARES/GRAND BUFFET TOUR in September. (holy fuck!@)
I’M SERIOUS. I need to find a way to be excused from class for three weeks so I can do this.

-I got to the 4th section of Delta Labs in Doom 3.
dude, that shit is fucked. what if a child ever sees that?
but, I guess if a child has the gumption to get that far in Doom 3 anyway, then he’s already damaged.

-Pacers up 2 to 1. fuck you, Josh!

-I’m still running. and I’m going tomorrow, God bless.

details, details to follow when it isn’t 4 a.m. I’m out!

latest yahoo search request: “doom comic boobs japanese”
I shit you not.

okay, last night. last night was interesting.
I went running, and as I was running, this storm is welling up. clouds are rolling in, but I definitely finish in time to get out of the way.
I get home, and then Alisha calls me. she asks me if I want to go running. I don’t, cause I just did. she’s out simply cause she likes running before storms. likes the weather. so I say I’ll go out walking around with her, but I’m not running. she says okay.
now, it just so happens that if I wander around enough, I will eventually end up at an ice cream parlor.
such is the way of things.
we walk over to Jiffy Treet, and I decide that I want to go to the Chocolate Moose. I ask her if she thinks we can make it before the storm hits. and she’s just as retarded as I am, so we start walking.
we’re ordering the ice cream when the rain starts. then, its raining pretty hard, so we’re standing underneath the awning, and then it starts to hail a little bit.
“heh. hey, it’s hailing,” I say.
then the wind changes directions, and the building isn’t shielding us very well anymore, and the rain and hail are coming at a slant so the awning isn’t doing dick, and we’re getting pelted with ice balls.
it sucked. we had to run around the other side of the building.
but.
because it was so bad, and there wasn’t anywhere in sight we could run to, I started knocking on the door to the Chocolate Moose.
they let us in. I finally got behind the counter of an ice cream shop, and it only took the anger of nature to do it. nice!
we eventually called someone for a ride. Alisha had little bruises all over her from the hail. nature can be some rough shit, no doubt.

also.
the Pacers won last night. IN DETROIT. I bet Josh 5 bucks they’d win the series. sometimes you got to have a little pride.

whoooo. ride the rollercoaster, baby.
www.bushfish.org

the White House came under attack by a cessna. thousands, literally, evacuated. don’t worry, though – the President was on a bike ride.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/05/11/evacuation/index.html

this guy I went to high school with, Elliot McCullough, got arrested by Bloomington PD for trying to starting a fire in a dumpster behind an apartment building a few blocks from my house. one of the building residents saw him, called the cops, ran him down, and got into a fight with him until 5.0 rolled up and grabbed Elliot for resisting arrest and arson. can I get a “hell yeah”?

and.
I went home for a dental and optometrist’s exam on Monday and Tuesday. I was excited about going home – I immediately ate about a pound of potato salad and got into a fight with Aunt Nettie – but then, there must have been something in the mayo, cause I got the runs something awful, and by the next morning my allergies were running off the hook. word.
I think God (probably the baby Jesus, not excluding Vishnu) is trying to keep me out of northwest Indiana.

to end:
when asked what his plans for the summer were, Uncle bill replied, “relax, get high, and get laid. same as every summer. I’ll definitely get two of the three, probably get the last one, too.”

did you know that the guy who founded Domino’s Pizza, billionaire Tom Monaghan, is a huge contributor to Focus on the Family?

uh oh, the Matt verdict is in…..
FUCK THAT GUY.


I hear that they’ve got the Roy Moore Ten Commandments monument rockin’ out front of some evangelical church complex in south Florida.
oh, good lord (no pun intended), that screams fucking photo op.

long day. tired.
that’s a good thing, though. I feel like I’ve accomplished something.
worked from 11:30 to 4.
ran 8 laps at Woodlawn field.
finallly tried Yats. it’s cheap. I like cheap. it makes food taste better. heh.
saw “Kingdom of Heaven.” I like Liam Neeson, and I like Jeremy Irons, and I liked that beefy german guy at the beginning, but Orlando Bloom is teetering on the verge of suck.
Mar’s kicking it here for the next day. going back up to Valpo monday for a optomotrist and a dentist’s appointment. it’s been too long – I need the dentist. lots of people fear the dentist. but as most anyone who reads this has probably already heard me say, I can handle anything that motherfucker throws at me.
even though I have a healthy respect.
I’ll fear and respect the Grimace. I’ll just respect the dentist.
my mother refers to our dentist as “the butcher.” how’s that for pleasant imagery? I don’t think he’s that bad; he’s a little rough with a scraper, and treats your jaw like it wasn’t attached to your face, but other than that, he’s not too bad. oh, and he’s kind of a dick. but he’s a thorough dick, so he gets a pass in my book.
that’s all that’s been cracking. I’m out – I have to work at the paper again tomorrow. another marathon session maybe. hopefully not.
Mar’s kicking it in the living room. let’s see what’s cracking. END.

holy jesus fucking christ, I’m bored.

I’ve been at the paper since 2:30. that’s nine goddamned hours.
can’t leave, cause as the copy editor, it is my position to read every 70 – that’s a rough draft of the paper, printed out at 70 percent – of every section of the paper: page one, nation and world, campus, arts, sports, opinion. and they’re not all done yet. and I’ve done nothing since 9:30.
that’s two near two and a half hours.

I think the muscles in my legs are gonna atrophy, I’m hungry, I’ve got to take a shit (I do, so deal with it), and I was planning on going out tonight… if I ever fucking get out of here.

they’re trying to add another sports page as I type this, and they’re going right past me, for two reasons.
1. I’m fucking slow; I take a long time to read copy (not a good thing, I’ll have to work on that)
2. the stories they’re pulling off the wire, which are all AP stories – they’re written by professional writers, which means a dumbfuck summer copy editor at a college newspaper isn’t gonna catch any of their miniscule mistakes anyway.

I’ve been rocking since 9:30 this morning. I worked 10:30 to 2 pm at the crosstown store, and I came immediately here afterwards.

I wanna go home. I wanna take a dump. I wanna eat greasy fucking pizza, and drink cheap beer.
now. good lord, now.

so I played Doom 3 a stupid ridiculous amount today. couple hours worth.
and naturally, cause I’m a dork on a Doom kick, I looked up shit on Doom on the magical internet.
the usual stuff was there. Doom 3 interactive website that requires some flash plug in to view properly. video game magazine reviews.
fan sites.
those are always the best.
and who would have thought, but somebody made a Doom comic book! neat!

see, this is problematic. I can take a healthy amount of Doom on my own. it’s insanely violent, but the comic book…
wait, does everyone even know what fucking Doom’s all about?

okay, it’s basically an ultraviolent video game starring a space marine (you) who’s the last surviving poor asshole on a Mars spacestation. the big evil corporation you work for was fucking around with teleportation, and they opened a gateway to hell, which was obviously bad, and if you shell out 49.99 at Target for a copy of the game, you get to spend twenty hours of your life mowing through demons and zombies and zombie demons and flying skulls and a huge Baphomet with a rocket launcher for an arm. ridiculous for some, fun for others. I lean towards the latter.

okay, but about the comic book.
see, while the video game is relatively short on the talking – I mean, there’s a story to it, but it’s not really very involved – the comic book takes all that shallowness and puts words to it. it’s fucked up, man.

check out some quotes.

“I’m cookin’ with gas! I’ve gotta handful of vertebrae and a headful of mad! yeah, that’s your spinal cord, baby! dig it! who’s the man? I’m the man! I’m a bad man!”

“aah! chainsaw! the great communicator!” (proceeds to mutiliate zombies with said chainsaw)

“at this particular moment, I don’t believe I have a healthier or more deeply-felt respect for any object in the universe than this here shotgun.”

and then, out of nowhere…
“why can’t we find a way to safely dispose of radioactive waste and protect the environment? even if I personally stop this alien invasion, what kind of planet will we be leaving to our children? and our children’s children? and.. oh, the humanity!”

after he finds a big gun:
“death surrounds me, yet in my head, I hear something that sounds like angels! I have found the holy grail of firepower! mine eyes can but weep as they bear witness to the majesty… the BFG 9000!”

“as I stride through the dead, all is clear. I know what must be done… my cause is just… my will is strong… and my gun is very, very large!”

to end:
“righteousness – and superior firepower – has triumphed! the filthy beast is no more!”

I mean, you could paste in some American flags, a couple of dead terrorists in place of zombies, and you’re ready to rock with some good ol’ fashioned propaganda.
even though, I think it stands pretty well as propanda itself. whoever wrote this motherfucker left open a window to their soul.


it’s Doom the comic, everybody. soak it in.
http://www.doomworld.com/10years/doomcomic/comic.php

so I almost killed a guy last night.
it wasn’t like he was up in my grill talkin’ junk, and I just raged on the motherfucker.
no, I was delivering. and I’m coming up College ave. at like 8:45 last night, and its dark. and right at 14th st., where the liquor store and the porno shop are, this guy is just walking across the street.
he’s got a dark blue sweatshirt on, and I’m doing about 40, 45 mph in the center lane. I see him about 20 or 30 feet before I’m due to hit him.
all of the sudden he sees me and stops on the balls of his feet. I slam on the breaks, pull hard to the left. my steering wheel locks up, I think I screamed “Jesus Christ.” I fishtail just a little bit, tires squeal, and the guy is so close to me, that my back right fender – like where they gas tank would be, only on the other side – bumps him, and he slaps the top of my trunk. he doesn’t fall down. car stops.
I jump out of the car and I’m like “holy god, man, are you okay?“
he’s like, “I’m fine, don’t worry about itI’m fine.” he’s slurring his words.
the guy is lit.
he keeps walking across the street to where his homies are hanging out by the payphone in the liquor store parking lot. I’m about to get back into my car, but I’m thinking if I had noticed him a second later, or if he hadn’t stopped walking, I’d probably have hit him dead on, and the guy would be… well, dead. so I decide to press the issue.
so I put my blinkers on cause I’m stopped right in the middle of College Avenue (a lot of good that would do me) and wait til the next spurt of cars flies by me.
I run up to the guy. he’s an old guy, gray hair. big gut. all his buddies are old. they’ve got an old lady with them in a wheel chair. I realize they’re probably homeless. they’re all drunk, or inebriated. I feel like the man, and not in the good way. I feel like the man, not the man.
so I come up behind him and he doesn’t even notice me – like the motherfucker almost gets run down every day or something – and I say, “hey buddy, are you okay?” put my arm on his shoulder.
he’s like, “oh, I’mfine, I’m fine. you just ran over my feet, thasall.”
the old lady in the wheel chair’s like “he’s fine, hon, don’t worry about him. he’s fine.”
so I say, “alright, buddy. have a nice night, okay?” get back in my car and leave.
I went back to the store, and refused to deliver anymore after that. luckily, it was the end of my shift, and they didn’t make me. heh.


can you imagine the buzzkill it would have been to kill, or put a drunk in the hospital on the last day of semester?


extra news – Smith gave me Doom 3. and I became a shutin.
and Smith let me borrow “Resident Evil: Apocalypse.” that carries a few points with it. 1. zombies are awesome 2. Milla Jovovich is smoking hot 3. I obviously have great taste in film.

hear that, Ashley? we’re gonna be arch enemies! seems only right that on my own little slice of the web, I could have someone who’s always foiling my plans, always wrong when I’m always right.
I give this idea a few more posts, til I forget about it. but we’ll try it out, so lets go.

so, did I tell youse guys what Ashley thinks? you’re never gonna believe it.
Ashley seems to think that the centuries old, steeped in tradition custom of Krgyz abduction of women for forced marriages is abhorrent, unthinkable in a world where women, you know, have human rights and shit.
Ashley, the feminazi, seems to think that wimmin shouldn’t be treated like cattle. like a fucking commodity.
she sent me this link. typical liberal garbage. the NY Times is such a rag.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/30/international/asia/30brides.html?pagewanted=1

well, jeeze, Ashley, I’m sure there are success stories, too!

some may call it repulsive.
I call it romantic!
check back into find out what kind of bullshit Mother Jones programmed “progressive” Ashley to say next week.

yeah… I think I’ll make it a weekly thing… yeah.