A Year In Movies... Sorta...kinda... ALLRIGHT FINE, IT'S JUST ME BITCHIN' ABOUT A COUPLE OF MOVIES.

You know, to all there is I never really talked about Film Noir or the decay of modern cinema like I promised. Heck, I rarely ever write in here anymore. Figured people just don't seem to care much for anything not posted on facebook...Which is why I'll put this up there as soon as I'm done with it.

So....It's been quite a while. Matter of fact, it's been nearly a year since I did the Carlin piece. Took some time I guess and then I just plainly forgot. 'Lot of things happened since then and specially lot of movies came out. Some way more suckier than the rest. But what did stood out was amazing. Though, here's something I didn't expect even when some people had warned me about it.

Watchmen

There, I said it. Watchmen sucked, and for anyone in the know-how with this things, it really isn't a surprise. It was an ok movie, but Watchmen. Watchmen was something to get at, you know? in comic book terms, this was the adaptation that would've set the record straight. "Comics can be smart, who'd known?" people would say.

BUT NO, fuck that shit, we're stuck with the wannabe piece of crap delieverd by a fuckin' retard. I wrote once, I'll write it again. Zack Snyder, you're a fucking idiot...and I say that with love.

How was it? When he pitched the idea for watchmen, how did it went?

"300 was a FUCKING success!!!! (Money rolls). We HAVE to do something like that again"

"Well, Mr. Snyder, there are a number of graphic novels out there that you could ad..."

"NO TOMMY!!!!!, my wonderful assisntant, We won't just do any graphic novel adaptation, WE'LL DO A FUCKING MASTERPIECE!!!"

"Ummm, ok, may a suggest..."

"QUICLY TOMMY!!! What's the HARDEST.... no, that's not how it went ...

"QUICLY TOMMY!!! What's the MOST BELOVED COMIC BOOK IN THE HISTORY OF COMIC BOOKS!?!?!?"

"Well, sir, if I had to mention one, right out the top of my head...I guess Watch...."

"GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!! WE'LL DO THAT!!! QUICLY, CALL WARNER (or fox, however you wanna look at it), TELL 'EM WE GOT A GREAT-FUCKING-IDEA!!!!"

"Uhh...But, sir...Don't you think it would be a little hard to...."

"NONSENSE!!! It will be EPIC like EVERYTHING I direct"

"Uhh...ok...But, wouldn't you at least like to take a look at the novel to see if you'd wanna do it"

"...Hmmm, you got a point tommy, fine get me a copy"

(a few hours later)

"Let's see......girls, explosions, blood, end of the world, stuff I don't get.... :mummbles: ....uhh, OH MY SWEET GOD IN THE SKY, A BLUE PENIS!!!! I'LL MAKE THIS FILM"

and that's how it went. Seriously though, it was a good try. YEAH YEAH I KNOW I SAID IT SUCKED, but really, when it comes down to it, I read the fucking book, I know what happens. So even when I didn't get my favorite lines from the book in the movie, I still got to see firsthandendly, and bask, in thy fearfull simetry. Rorscharch people, he and Manhattan truly took the movie.

At least...I have that...And it would've been enough had it not been for the completely obnoxious and unecesary sex scene were Snidey took away all psychological depth and meaning when Night Owl and Silk Spectre (The second ones) had ominous sex to the beat of Hallelujah, or whatever the fuck that song is called.

Is ominous the right word for it. Don't know, don't care, Scene sucks. NOT sexy at all.

And Dragon Ball, does no one have any respect for fanboys and fangirls anymore? Snyder and Watchmen: The movie came out like Fellini and 8 1/2 compared to that irreverent piece of shit. Beyond shit, I mean the movie does it's best to suck, you get the idea it's a friggin parody or something. Goku is a pansy-ass angst-ridden teenager that can't get girls and can't do anything right? Bulma is an expert marksman, who misses every single little fucking shot? Yamcha is a Japanese surfer dude? chi chi (milk in mexico) is an asian hottie? pikolo is a fucking...something...

THE FUCKING LIST IS ETERNAL!!!! To say the least would be to say it sucks. They, somebody really really hit a nerve with that fucking movie. And people still want me to have faith on the american version of AKIRA. Oh yeah, pfff, sure. Go ahead, do that. Surely it won't be bad.

Tell you one thing, IT BETTER not be bad, because then legions of faithfull followers will do what they do best. Bitch.

Oh yes we will. We'll flod the hotlines and channels with constant ranting about how much did AKIRA sucked and it won't stop there. There'll be forums and mail petions and more forums and people will go on forever. SO IT BETTER BE, at least, VERY FUCKING DECENT.

You see, this is just part of what I mean when I say modern cinema has decayed. There's the casual flicker of light here and there but most of it is better still made up than adapted. A lot of movies have come on to suck, there hasn't been anything as epic as before, Pacino is loosing street cred, that can't be right.

The movie bussiness is certainly not what it used to be, at least by some standards. You still get your epic win here and there but seriously sometimes it's as if the people in charge wanted to make this about the benjamins and movies ain't completely about that. Real cinematographers do it for the lulz and for the prestige and for the inmortality of a realy good fuckin' story.

There hasn't been a clever long lasting Horror Flick in a long time. There hasn't been a truly epic war story in a while. A blissfull completely intelligent hillarious comedy...some people don't even know they exist. And it's all been thanks to the need for the green. What the fuck?

Still, light allways shines at the end of the tunnel. True, there may not be another Star Wars or Godfather saga in a nearby future or an Urban/in the Guetto story done with dignity or even a There's Something About Mary coming anytime soon, but there sure are good movies out there. One just has to find them.

Education helps, I mean if anyone went to see Fast and Furious and thought it was a masterpiece or a Wayne brothers production and thought it was a laugh riot and completely innovative then that somebody suffers from some sort of severe dumb-fuckness.

That's it for now people. Movies to see: Frost Nixon (Incredibly fucking brilliant), Miracle at St. Anne's or something like that (War movie aobut an african-american batallion, good), REC (spanish horror movie, later adapted into an american version called Quarantine; Both are just fucking spectacular), VickyChristinaVarcelona (I missed Woody Allen, good to have 'im back), etc...

There's several more, be sure of that, you just have to find 'em.

NEXT POST: FILM NOIR

That's it folks, good times, good year (school year) good everything.

Always Remember Who Is The Man That Set Me Free

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Film Noir, The Decay of Modern Cinema and Why The Happening Doesn't Happen #2

You guys, this is, like, totally my first followup post. Yay!!!

Ok, so. As told before by me, there is but one moment that completely and utterly obliterates this fucking movie (The Happening). No, it's not the fact that the ending sucks. No, it's not the fact that, regardless of how believable the plot can be, it still doesn't really add up for a decent horror movie. No, it's not the fact that Wahlberg's acting consists of clean language and a "I wanna take a shit" grin throughout the goddamn movie. And No, it's not the fact that most of the movie happens in the country side as opposed on the movie posters which was kind of a turn off for me.

It's the kids that get blown away by shotguns.

THERE, I FUCKING SAID IT!!!! WHO ON THEIR RIGHT FUCKING MINDS COMES UP WITH A SCENE LIKE THIS?!?!?!?! WHO ON THEIR SHITFULL LITTLE HEADS DARES TO MAKE AN AUDIENCE UNDERSTAND THIS?!?!?!?!?! ARE THEY OUT OF THEIR FUCKING MINDS?!?!?!?!?!

Sooooo....halfway round the movie, after we've put up with seemingly enough bullshit and welcome some cinematic sense anytime soon, our heroes and the addition to the group who are two teenage kids that don't look a year over 16, give or take, wind up in front of this house. Finally, some shelter to protect them from the mean, vicious, sucide inducing plants. As they come closer to the house, I'll say, it started to give me a certain sense of uncertainty while seating in the movie theater with my sister and her friend. I didn't said anything of course, but had you been me, you wouldn't have shaken that feeling either.

Come to think about it, nobody would've shaken that feel of uncertainty. It was a big, old "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" style house. From the outside it looked so decrepit that you could just hear it squick by looking at the damn thing. As the group of survivers comes closer to that house we see how it's pitch dark on the inside...and on the outside there's nothing but old, rotting window wodden blinds and a big ass tree. Old one too, as they say in the movie. So now you have what I called "shit factors" when I saw it. Shit Factors meaning that any of those two can give way to a moment were you conciusly go "Shit, I didn't expect that". Here being the windows and the big ass tree.

The window blinds looked like you could knock them the fuck off with your elbow. Now for some reason, I thought "Imagine what a shotgun could do to those things". We're talking old, non sturdy wooden blinds. AND A BIG ASS TREE, by now, it's pretty clear that anything plant is bad. So what happens? Good guy Wahlberg starts looking inside the house through the cracks in the window and when realising there's movement inside asks for help.

Here's an important lesson in horror movies. People's psyche is fired when watching this movies. I mean, anyone will get inmersed in the storyline of any horror movie, wether it's good or bad. Now, something life has tought us and Death Proof's very own Quentin Tarantino has remarked; In a horror movie, you don't hate the maniac killer, the vicious monster, the underlying threat to people's lives or anything related to that matter. You hate the assholes. The men and women who, among the events that unfold and threaten the very way of life in people, act like utter idiots. They don't help, they don't die and they repeatedly get in the way. We're talking the skeptics or the overly fanatic, the stuborn, the bastards or bitches, and finally the people that take advantage of others. Be it the sassy white bitch or the rapist macho mother fucker.

In this movie, it just so happened to be the owners of said creepy house. Upon asking for help, our hero encounters that the current tenants don't want to open the fucking door and let them in, not because they might be infected, nor because they might bring said sickness into the house. They won't let them in, get this, because according to the owner of the house, Mark Wahlberg and company could be the terrorists. AHA!!!! A redneck asshole who's got his head far up his ass to realize a man, a woman and three minors of which non of them represent a serious threat are not terrorists, even though he could hear them. Wow, talk about hating material.

The scene carries on, the kids get impatient. "OPEN UP BITCH!!!" shouts one of them (By the way, one kid is white the other is black). The one that does stands in front of the doorway, the other starts hollering from a window. The man still refuses and you can feel the tension. Suddenly the voice from inside says somehting like "OPEN THIS" or something and out comes the long, stiff barrel of a shotgun and voila. White kid goes down. Not only does he go down, we get to see from his back how all the little pellets of the shotgun shell pierced right through his whole torso.

Everyone shrieks in fear, the dramatic music get's pumped and just as his friend, the black kid, looks in horror at the bloody body of his now deciesed friend, another barrel comes from within the cracks and points to his right side temple and boom. There goes the black kid. Now, I have to admit that this is horror. True, undeniable horror. The kids get killed, that used to be a big no-no in the horror film industry and only the directors with the cojones and the compelling story line could pull that off. Why then does this scene piss me off so damn much I even dared to write all of this?

Simply put, there is no retaliation. The kids get shot, the other flee the scene and we know nothing of Tim Fuck and the hillbilly gang. Nothing!!!!!Nada!!!!Zero!!!! Two kids, two perfectly and incredubly inocent kids have just been blown away BY FUCKING SHOTGUNS!!!! And nobody does anything. That's it, that's what pisses me off so much. You waste your time and energy creating this scene. You strive to make it perfect, you wanna lead audiences to fear, to hate, to suffer. Good, now were's our goddamn price. As a director/writer/whatever you can't ask that much from an audience.

Hey that's me. Maybe you'd think "DON'T KILL THE KIDS", wereas I think "Go ahead. Kill the little buggers. It adds up for the suspense and thrill of the movie. BUT WERE'S MY FUCKING PAYBACK?!?!". That scene had me haiting a non existing sorce of evil. Non whatsoever. It wasn't enough the guy was undeniebly stupid and wild, clearly he's some country ass boy who, like I said before, must be the sort of stupid white american macho asshole to believe. Firmly hold the fact that this people might be terrorists as truth. Well it isn't enough to lead me into believing this, analysing the situation and draw up conclusions. Now you also want me to swallow up the fact that, not only can't I see his face, but neither do I get to see Trigger McHappy in all his republican gun enthusiastic shitface fucking existence bite the dust.

NOT FUCKING FAIR. You don't do that. The assholes, as unnimportant to the story IS STILL THE ASSHOLE and nothing says satisfaction more in a horror oriented movie, were violence of any kind is condoned, than watching most of this very own violence get wasted senslessly on the one goddamn asshole. Fuck the plants, fuck the people. If somebody really deserved to die, was White Trash Toby sitting on his stupid rural ass on that movie. And it might seem like I'm overreacting but come on. In horror movies, if you're gonna kill the kid, you best make sure someone pays for it. It's hard allready to see someone die from a shotgun blast that's not the bad guy, let alone a kid.

That's what I'm talking about. All I get was a voice, were's the promise that them assholes gonna end up killing themselves? Were's the scene in which the big ass tree gets inside the house and chokes that motherfucker to death? Dude, it's pissy. When you're watching such bullshit all around you, like an unworthy plotline, crappy acting, out of role personalities and stupid solutions to way too over themselves problems, the LAST thing anyone needs is watching the kids get shot, in the chest and in the head....with a shotgun....FOR NO APPARENT REASON...and sitting there as nobody does anything.

That's not the Mark Walhberg I know, that's not how Zoey Deschanel would leave it and there's absolutely no way in fuck end hell M. Nigh Shyamalan would let any of his stories go this bad. Not even a curse word, or a "YOU SHOT A KID, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!". Not even a face, I mean not even have a decency to show us what to hate but give us something to hate anyways. Last time I cheked, unfocused anger was not a huge seller.

So if this movie sucked so bad, why invest time on it? Why talk about it silly? I'll tell you why, because there are other examples of better movies. Examples of movies that don't seem to be better movies but are anyway.

This is Mr. Bitchin Telling you, It's all about the audiences true needs. Tune in next time to find out what movies are keeping it real in the revange department, which are the movies that are decaying the medium and what in the holy darn world is all that about Film Noir.

Film Noir, The Decay of Modern Cinema and Why The Happening doesn't happen. #1

"It was done, it had happened. The people, the places, the images. It was all worthless now. Any attempt for me to fix this was now miles away in a highway of despair filled with broken illusions that could cut you up like shards of fine glass laid on the floor and terrified screams emanating from the souls of those as unfortunate and unprepared to visualize this horror.

Still, I didn't know what was worse. Knowing of this crime and it's effect on us, acting up on the impotence it carried within or being like the others, uncaring, unaware, indifferent. Nevertheless, we had been cheated, lied too and I felt cheap, maybe cheaper than some regular bar fly looking for a little adventure. Me the wise guy, I thought I had this all figured out but in the end it was me who got played for a fool. I felt like one too.

It all started about a week ago, or so. My lil' sis had her friends come over. Too young to be asked to the ball, too old to play with dolls. Perhaps that's why the house got to small for them. They needed out, they needed air and for multiple reasons I was assigned the task to take 'em out. Little did I knew that I was leading them and myself towards disaster. We took all the precautions; I even invested in my decision. Said that it must've been the right path to choose. So I got along with the idea that all was gonna be ok.

But it wasn't. I took them to watch....M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening.

The rest is history and to the day I still carry that burden over my shoulders"

...

Ok, so I might've exagerated a liitle bit. Big deal, that movie sucked and it shouldn't have. What the fuck, dude? It's Shyamalan. Motherfucker is like big on horror themed movies and suspense thrillers, so what the hell went wrong here?

The Happening, written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan and starring, Tough guy Mark Wahlberg, Pretty eyes Zooe Deschanel and John Leguizamo juts doesn't happen. Where's the intensity? Where's the feeling? Where's the meaning? Where the fuck is Shyamalan? Are we seriuosly supposed to belive this is him? Are we to accept that the same man who brought us to our knees with his rendition of a ghost story called "The Sixth Sense", the same man who showed us a movie about superheroes like we've never seen before with Bruce Willis on the lead role no less (Unbreakable), THE SAME GUY WHO SCARED THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ALL OF US WITH SIGNS (SIGNGS, PEOPLE, SIGNS!!!!! THEY WERE FUCKING ALIENS. WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU GOT SCARED BY ALIENS?)...made this?

Ok, reason numero 1 why I'm so outraged buy this. Shyamaln directed AND wrote this. Now, I have an undying respect for people who write and direct their own movies. Generally they're just increadibly good. But this, this movie isn't Shyamalan AT ALL. First, there's the plot

...................SPOILER ALERT.....................not that you should care.....

So, finally and after years of abuse, planet earth decides to take action and what best way to do so than letting plants, yes plants, kill humans. But they don't do it in a fashionable way. They don't raise from the ground and start strangelling people, neither do trees start stepping on people or are there any diabolical branches that rape young women slowly and painfully a lá Evil Dead. No, what do plants and other specimens of the green leafed species do to take on motherfuckin humans? They evolve and release toxins into the air that, when sniffed, humans give up on their logical skills and kill themselves. that's right, KILL THEMSELVES!!!! In the most gruesome way possible. As soon as they've, so to speak, been infected, people grab whatever is at hand to kill themselves. Not before acting weird (not making any sense in what they say, walking backwards, shit like that).

So far, so good. The storyline seems good, the premises are awesome and at first it all seems perfect. People star killing themselves, shooting themselves, willingly falling off from buildings, evem coming up with ignenious ways to die. All this are valuable elements for some scary shit, why, then, does the movie blow?

The acting. Come on, really? Mark Wahlberg? Marky Mark? You put him as the film's wussy. What gives? Wahlberg is this science teacher who becomes the leading man in what seems to be the end of time. Along his best friend/math teacher Leguizamo, Leguizamo's in-movie-daughter who adds up for the cuteness factor in the movie and his now-distant-due-to-relatioship-problems girlfriend, he sets out to find a place that appears to be safe. Safe meaning nobody who appears not to have suicidal tendencies grab hairspray and a blowtorch and come up with a way to melt their own face (Doesn't happen, but like I said, ingeniuos) are there.

So naturally, you would expect this guy to be tough as nails or at least pretty straight forward. WRONG. Wahlberg's character does not develop as anything in particular. Early on in the movie he's a concerned guy, not so big into action and oviusly not a threat to society. As the movies keeps going, his character fails to realize the imminent danger that surronunds the story line and even come up with any witt what-so-ever. Maybe it was the director's intention to portray an average joe as the movie's hero. But everybody knows, that regardless the scenario, survival horror oriented plots allways wind up with the main character growing a pair in the midst of battle. Besides, Deschanel is off her personality. She's a witty, smart ass gal, she can also be tough. So why make her the pessimist damsel in distress who's ever so scandalous little secret involved having dessert with some guy.

Really, the movie suggests she might be cheating on Wahlberg and she just had a fucking dessert with some guy. Then, it's the storyline itslef. So people and the media start pulling out their own theories and without a moments notice pull out the big pointy finger and bame it all on terrorism. Because it isn't enough they live in the fucking deser, they somehow got a hold of some chemical weapon that screws you up so badly that you'll kill yourself, again, in the most gruesome way possible.

This was actually a good point. Taking in consideration Shyamalan is of middle eastern descent, not only is he blatanly making fun off the publics paranoid fears in a tongue in cheek fashion, he's also exploiting today's biggest weakness of the american people. Terrorist attacks on small town in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, miles away from anything remotley important and with small population census. Only true red, white and brute americans would buy that. But beyond that point nothing supports the story, we're suggested that it isn't terrorits (NO, REALLY? YOU'RE FUCKING KIDDING ME) by another character. Instead he suggests, it's the plants. The plants evolve when facing new threats, and since humanity aren't exactly a ray of fucking sunshine, it was only a matter of time before plants went "WHO'S THE BITCH NOW?".

The problem with this is that it's to early on in the movie. Now we know what's wrong and there's no mystery. On the other hand, the character that suggests this is a goddamn farmer. A farmer for christ's sake, who minutes after getting introduced to the story IS TALKING TO FUCKING PLANTS. He also says that it's been proven by science that is you talk nice to plants, they'll respond to the stimulus, which is true. I know that, HOW ABOUT THE REST OF THE FUCKING WORLD? the plot is believable; both things are true. Plants do respond to stimulus giving the fact of quantum physics and other things, therefore plants do act on sweet talk AND it's also true that they evolve in a rapid manner when facing a new predator therefore creating new improved deffenses against other types of creatures. Mother nature is tough you guys.

So then, how does it work? Nobody ever really explains that, how do the plant pick and select their victims so they can sniff up suicide sented leaves? At first we're told it's big groups of people, then if the plants think they're threats, they have it in for them. At the end the plants get super sensitive and start "attacking" one person at a time (though we only got one example like this) but somehow the leading guys, which at this point it's just Wahlberg, Deschanel and the little girl, don't die or get affected by the plants. So I'm pushed to believe "OK, the plants attack people who has negative feelings, like anger or hate" but if so, then why did all the other people die. They surely weren't all angry. Scared out of their asses, but not angry.

At lasts, and I'm saving this because of it's hate inducing nature, the one moment in the movie, the point of no return, the minute were it jumped the shark and it all went to hell. The scene were the shit hit the fan....Look onto the next post, to find that out.

A Rose in the Gutter

Twas one lonely afternoon, amidst a summer now gone
That I remember I saw a friendly ghost
Sure, I was half asleep and out of this world
But I know what I saw, and what I saw was a girl in grey robes.

She was sweet and quite happy
I can tell by the way her face looked
She was tender and sassy
I can tell by the feeling that gave me her touch

She holded my face between her beautiful ghastly hands
She looked dead on in my eyes
I was obliged, and quite happy, to look back
"Wake up" she said in a calm tone as I shuffled back to this land

I had forgot about that, about a nice day in which I came back
Though at first I gave credit to my imagination and my mind
I know what I saw; I saw a time to pass
I saw a moment that would sooner than later come to my life

That day I felt alive, unlike I had on previous occasions
No wonder I forgot, There was no reason to remember
But now I see why that day was so special
Call it a dream or a vision, but what I saw made me feel better.

....

Just as there's no decent or coherent explanation to what I just wrote, there's no reason to do so. A simple as a flickering ray, just a eenie-winny-tiny-teeny spick of whatver the fuck it is that holds your mind at bay in this realm. It's simply a word, a sentence, an hours-long stone cold talk or a close-to-insignificant gesture that things are going to be ok.

A rose in a gutter, it's one of the good cliches. Kind of cliche that's true, honet. Kind of cliche that works. We've allways got our rose in the gutter, a really beutiful thing that's on the most unexpected of places. That's that tiny spick, the flickering ray, the 1% chance that things will work out in the end in the 99% probability to fail. That's what it is.

To anyone who's ever been alive, that 1% is worth something, it's hope and hope is allways worth something. I remeber one day when I was 16 that I had that dream. I was in my couch, slowly falling asleep, getting to the point in which you're half awake, half asleep. Illussions start to kick in, and I started to see places, people mixed with memories. Like witnessing the formation of a dream, and right smack in the process of falling asleep, I saw a girl that closely ressembled a cartoon, the nature girl from Fantasia 2000.


She told me "Wake Up" and I woke up rapidly, allmost alarmed because it felt so. It felt as if someone had kneeled to wake me up. When I did, I just felt nice. And just like that I forgot about that day, I forgot about that dream and forgot about allmost everything from those times. Ocassionally I remember those moments with everything including how I felt, what it felt.

And there it is...Right now, I feel it. Creeping up my spine working its way to my head. That feeling. The drive, the inspiration and every single other thing out there that just lets me know that it is time once again, the memories, the dreams, the feelings. All of it, and then a little more that just make up for all the time spent, all the time lost. It's time. Slowly the irrationality kicks in. Each time more and more I remember, but this time is a good one. It's not like when I'm all sad and pathetic, no this is one of the good ones.

I'm not sad. It's the memories, all over again one by one in my mind. But they're not screaming or making fun at me. My head spins around that notion, I'm standing but I'm not alone. Everything that surrounds me isn't a reminder of darkened times and pittyful moments. It's taking hold allready, like in my last post. The nothingness, the what-could've-been scenarios. They take shapes, forms, images of people I know and love or hate. But they're not laughing. They're not even smiling, they just look back at me, pranks and jokes now spent, bottles on the floor, remains of an ongoing party at my back, a celebration of the weakend state of my mind, which lives no longer and they're looking at me just as I look back.

They know I'm angry, they know I'm furious, they know I'm drunk and high with strength and hope and exaltation and love. They know I'm not afraid and that scares them. It's my rose in the gutter. It's me, it's my mind, it's my friends, my mum, my family, my books, my stories, my movies, my EVERYTHING. It's realizing that IT NEVER STOPS and therefore THERE SHOULD BE NO FUCKING REASON FOR ME TO FEAR. It never stops, the shit, the suffering, the pain, so why the fuck should I. Me who has come all the way up to here being the way I am and doing the things I do.

Every single little thing that I've allways wanted to say and do. All the fucking things I've allways wanted to be, it's been building up, waiting, and it's time once again to let it out. My kids, my boys and girls, my dear beloved readers who might wander ever so carelesly into this space and find nothing new and interesting or stumble upon the key phrase or word they needed to read, this is me. The insanity, the senselessnes, the constant and abundant feeding to my ego on this rare special ocassions.

It's why sometimes I pass as an italian from brooklyn called Frank. It's why I suddenly speak in as many accents as I possibly can, because I want to do it. It makes me happy and what let's me go through. Fuck it, anything I don't care I'm training to be a New Yorker so I gotta be hardcore just as I am all fluffy and nice, I gotta get things done, I gotta get things said. At least, I know that there will allways be the next thing to a rose in the gutter.

Shaky Promises and Half Truths: The Unnerving Reality of What is to Come

It's that time allready when we all look at the mirrors, take a deep breath and tell ourselves that which we need to so the day can carry on forward. We're on the verge of a new year, 2008. We're in the beggining of a process called New Year's Resolutions. All the things we said we would do, all the things we're doing are just the first steps into our prominent succes or our inevitable failure. The only thing that, at most, is definite, is our desire for the better in our own lives however and whatever the cost of it.

It's in this times were I tell to myself things are gonna go different from now on. It's in this times were I face those old ghosts of mine who, regardless of the many, many pep talks and all those self medicated spoonfulls of wisdom, courage and self-esteem, refuse to die or even walk away. But specifically, it's this time in the early morning that I just sit quietly awaiting the giant that approaches and this year's battle for my survival. It's here and now were my mind plays tricks on me, deceives into missery and sadness. Emoeness.

I begin to understad now, this is what happens to those who stay up late. After hours and hours of continuos conciousness, the wrong type of memories strike in. It's only the mentally ill who stay up this late and carry on. Beings without real souls who have not a care in the world for anything but themselves. Those who do, like me, suffer the consecuences of a world and a reality not made for us. It is what consumes us, what makes us act like utter savages. Worlds were thoughts are made up of ironic moments in our lives, hurful remarks and sudden thoughts of what-could've-been scenarios.

It is here were most radiant smiles turn grimm. Were brilliant minds turn to mush. They are this hours, the one were drugs, fear, pain and humiliation reign. It's here were they all work together to make up for the time they loose during the day, scheeming plans to take control of my life and those like me who wander in the unknown realities of this late hours.

I talk and write, so as not to loose my mind. I'm being bombed by irrational thoughts of envy towards people who do not deserve it, ongoing questions and impossible dessires. I feel dragged, compelled to stay here until I've gotten statisfied. Obligated to finish and call it a day. A crooked and faulty day. I wish it weren't so but I can't stop it. Not now, I lack the stregnth to stand up and not look onto the computer.

I look for answers were there is no question, I walk in circles threateaning the nothing that it better keep it's eyes open. For me. For what is to come. Yet nor I nor anybody truly know. People could have an idea, but nobody really knows. I feel, though I ignore, therefore I fear. Slowly and thankfully fear and anxiety leave my body. False sense of emptyness and lonelyness disipate with the immediate tick-takcs of the keyboard. I'm beggining to get back my senses.

I coulnd't go to sleep because I had to do something. Check my mail, see this page, something. Sometimes I see it as a sickness that never really heals. It's been some time since I actually had a goodnight sleep and therefore some time since I just lied down to rest instead of lying down, sitting or standing and talk to myself. It's hard to wonder, to face the truth and swallow my anger or pride. It's tough to stay up this late and fight the mixed memories and thoughts I get when there is nothing to do, nobody around. Everyone I know just might be asleep. Maybe not. I just hope they're not to fighting themselves. It's tyresome and probably very unhealthy.

I was, like, totally gangzta

So the other day I thought I'd get started on something, you know, perhaps a short story or a full length story. It's just that I hardly write any more. Sometimes I just spent days at a time without picking one single pen. I blame my surroundings, by Odin's beard, I know I would've been a computer wiz or a literature freak had I not spent so much time in front of the tube. But what can you get? At least I know stuff, you know. I'm not completely screwed up.

I'm just saying 'cause, well, it kind of scares me. See, I tell everyone that I'm a geek. Saves me the trouble of letting someone down if, well, if they looked at me and thought "I'm pretty sure that guy totally rocks" and then it turns out I totally rock in a whole different fashion. But the thing about being a geek, well sometimes I just don't know that much. You know, I'm not a mathematical or physics genius and I'm really not that much into software or programing and such or my grades are just either average or below. It scares me.

I'm afraid to be just another asshole into some fad, like emos or the new generation of gangstaz. They're sickening, and then I could be just a more complex version of them. I really shouldn't worry that much, I just don't wanna come of as a poser. I was called a poser once in my life and it hurts your pride. I kind of deserved that too, by the way. You've heard about all this people in their 20's, 30's perhaps, and sometimes they look back at how they were in the 80's and say it was probably the worst they've ever been. EVER.

Well, that's just how I feel about Junior High School. I was a putz, a schmuck and an idiot. I dressed in Hip Hop Gear. Thing was that back then I was pretty dorky. Fuck, I'm 20 and I still don't know how to fucking drive. Imagine a kid with an Ecko jersey about 2 sizes bigger than his (and I was, after all, XL) with matching Ecko shorts that came somewhere near being pants and some suave Phat Farms on my feet. White, of course, as the winter's snow. And how could I forget the icing on the cake, Braces. Fuck grillz, I had metal braces.

At this point it comes into account that I myself could very well be considered white. Naturally when people saw me the last thing that'd ever cross their minds was that I was this nice sensitve guy who likes to watch movies. I was a dork (probably still am) clumsy in all and every single aspect and not that appalling. I didn't even had a thing. You know how everyone just has to have a thing. I didn't, or at least I didn't knew of any. At least any I could use to pick up girls. I remember back then as well that when I started talking about my "favorite" artists, Snoop Dogg and S.P.M. would come into conversation.

Also I would get blank stares and "who are them?" as responses.

I had abosolutely NO street cred which made things a lot worse. In fact, I still don't know what's worse. Having spent all those years not acting like I was all tough and hard or having spent those years acting all nice and cute with those cloathes and styles. After that time I realized just how stupid I really looked and how popular and mainstream had all that gotten. I mean the table turned from me being the outcast who dressed as a rapper, to the another one in the bunch...which is why I stopped the whole thing. I know I shouldn't care, but if I wanted to enjoy the company of more smart type people, I seriously had to stop people from believing that at any minute I could throw down some sick rhyme about bitches and ho's or popping a cap on some nigga's ass or me being this blinged out mack daddy playa who was to cool for school.

I've never been to cool for school. And that is me talking.

So in the long run, you know...I don't know. I mean, people say I'm a geek, but that's kind of getting to be the thing, you know. Or at least I feel like it. To tell you the truth, maybe I'm not really that geeky. I mean, I can talk to girls and be flirty and what not, and I can (at times) be good at sports and Sometimes I require the use of wikipedia to know about stuff. But in the long run, I guess I'm more geek than not. I'm into comics and videogames and movies and books and a shitload of other things, I just don't wanna use them as some cultural status so as to say how geek-y-eshly cool I am.

Now I know I shoul've stuck with that from the beggining, probably I would've had it a lot less harder. I still listen to Hip Hop, but I also listen to all sorts of music. Even the Hip Hop is sort of different. None of that Thug Gangzta bullshit, now I'm keeping it real with Old School Dance Hip Hop, Protest, Jazz Rap and the newly discovered Nerdcore. And I guess for as much things I don't know about, there's just this bunch of things I do and it's great.

What lets me sleep at night comfortably knowing that I'm in no way a sell out or fake?
Well, just my gut feeling that I'm not. Like it or not, at least now I'm happier.

No Title #1

You'll get there...



It's around this days that I actually get the notion of doing what I do best and doing, if for anything, to clear my mind. It's practically this moments that remind me of why did I named my blogg like I did and why, given the everythings in life, did I dare to call myself Mr. Bitchin. In a nutshell, cause it's probably amongst the ten top things I do best. It's bad and all, but if anyone cared enough to read this stuff then probably I would consider the semantics of my name, maybe even debate the whole damn thing. For what purpose really escapes my mind.

Above anything and saying whatever anyone wants, might o will say, it comes to the end of another highly unsatifying year. I guess that's for the better 'cause to tell you the truth, I wouldn't care much if anything was fine and dandy. Perhaps I'd forget about it or give life the uddermost importance at all. But really, a few dignified strugles here and there aren't that bad on the long run, they're just too fucking stupid and too fucking obnoxious. Sometimes I get the feeling a higher power is just rubbing it on.

I bitch mostly because it's the thing to do, you know, instead of entering a night's long alcohol or drug binge. Bitching is my natural high. Like I said befor, this world with it's uppers and it's downers, never leaves me with a short array on things to bitch about. Allthough I must say not bitching about the government or religion or the established or just about all and every one of human mistakes takes away certain street cred, I say that selfishness just about is, in my opinion, one of the most honest feelings or traits in our human nature.

So I put it on me to bitch about the one thing I'm pretty sure nobody else would ever bitch about. Me. Who could? Who the fuck would? Life is for every one of us to judge. Just that it takes away the valuable energy I needed in the first place to overcome some shit. Shit happens, so people would say, but dag nabbit, shit has the nasty way of piling up when nobody is looking. When you're not looling. Shit hits me in the face when I'm not looking. And then I am, and I wish I weren't looking in the first place.

It is in this rare ocassion, that just like he did, I wish I were gone. Long gone and far away from here. Sometimes I go back and felt like I sometimes felt as a younger kid. Sometimes I even go as far as feeling sick and suicidal. Shit, I even go out and feel as if the curse just won't stop. I know what overcame me, and I fucking know just what it meant. Frankly, sometimes I think I bitch, because clearly and surely, I just don't get the fucking lesson. Sometimes, not even roughing me up, shaking me down and scaring the living shit out of me, will get the message through.

So I bitch, because I have no other solution or way out. I bitch my way out. And it gets worse in time. Fuck all the empty threats I've made in the past. Telling me that I'm a badass motherfucker won't do shit. Be me one or not really doesn't make that much of a difference. It's just reminders of being big and important and really not that weak. So fuck them. I'm not gonna end this saying I'll be there or that I'll make a difference or that I'll fight till the end. Every-single-fucking-body does that, and they don't brag about it.

No, they bicth about it.

# 13 With A Machete And Hordes Of Zombies

Check it out, my 13th post. I feel so proud...sniff.

You know. Sometimes I really wish there was a real life zombie outbreak like in the movies. Like Romero's movies though, I do kinda want to have the upper hand by being able to walk right by the goddamn things and not like in the 28 days later fashion were fuckers run and shit. Zombie outbreaks are a very weird, very interesting social study reference and psycological research combined with amazing quantities of blood, that's why I love them so much.

Bare this in consideration. In zombie movies, the main characters are generally portrayed as to being a prominent part of society, be it the wimp or the muscle builder, the nerdy or the idiot, the hot I-don't-give-a-fuck chick or the elderly woman fighting her last breaths, and of course, the stuborn asshole. All these means, rest assured, that their personalities will be in constant debate, trying to figure out what the hell to the next.

It's so great, I mean being in the middle of that conflict and accepting things as they are. Working the differences and moving on with life. Truth is, in many movies the director and/or writters decide to infer certain aspects of every day life. First of all, every single shred of power that was held by money, social class, religion, etc... is overruled. Fuck that, I want to live. In this situations, the leader is generally the ones with the brains or the balls. They can either get out of a situation using their intelligence or brute force (and perhaps some very gory suicide tendencies...like bolting towards a crowd of those things with a chainsaw).

Second, fuck the president. A homeless man who is crazy and missing a hand, feet, eye or all of the above (previous) has the exact same chance of survival than the pope, probably even more. If any man, ANY MAN, who ever worked as a body guard was stupid enough to go on protecting that same person when all hell has broken loose, that man not onloy deserves to die. He deserves to be entertainment (as in the guy in the movie who dies the most bloodiest way). Think about it. Regardless of your beliefs, no amount of prayer will drive the undead away. A good wack to the head will do the job.

Third, and probably the one you might get to the conclusion that I'm sick, but try to follow me on this one. Feminity, fuck it. Girls wanna live to. Let's make a brief test. On one hand, you got a regular type of woman (the fuck do I know what regular is), on the other hand, you have a woman who doesn't give a fuck. Who do you think will make it...

If you're answer was one of them, you got it wrong. Who will make it is impossible to tell. In this situations, any live, reasoning human being will surely know that in order to survive, it is mandatory to give in towards you're sadistic side. Fuck how it looks like, even if it's my daughter, zombies will be zombies and period. The first woman might realize that screaming for help, waiting for her prince to rescue her just won't cut it. She needs to become fearless, reach for the nearest weapon and start the head bashing. Again, both have equally chances of survival. Maybe the other one becomes reckless and fuck it up for her.

This is probably the most interesting fact for me. The female psyche is difficult to crack in vast proportions. A woman that understands this, to me, is quite a turn on. HOLD ON, let me make my point. Picture this, a once really preaty girl has now blood all over herself, ragged or shreded cloathes and is really really scared. That might seem as the perfect vissual for a horror scene and not quite sexy. Here's how I see it. Here's a woman, the "weak" sex, that has just beaten her biggest fears, gott a hold of the situation and kicked some mayor ass. Here is a confident woman who knows beyond the reason of a doubt the price and preciousness of living.

She now sees things in a hole new perspective. She could've died a gruesome death and to avoid it, she performed a gruesome murder. Femininity isn't about being sugar and spice, bullshit, is about a woman's spirit, a woman's greatness. Fuck her nails, she wants to live. A woman like that, is a woman for me.

Now do you see were do I come off telling you a zombie outbreak would be kinda cool. No gobernments, no religions, no wars. Just like John Lennon said. That's the price. Get it, that's the price for human peace, the ongoing threat to our lives. Here, it isn't money or power that matter, it's you life...Besides, all my friends would know what to do in case of an attack.

Mister Bitchin, hoping for a better world.

Ha, life short mates. Time is fast not to do what you want to do, and know that you can do. Peace my darlings, and remember, it's not over till it's over. That goes for you too.

A Paranoid Is The Person Who Has All The Answers

Police brutality, politicians lying, things getting fucked up.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM US?

Whoever and whatever the fuck YOU are. I mean FUCK, can't I get a fucking break for every once in a while.

Fuck this, fuck anything. Yeah I bitch, but only here. In my everyday life I'm a self respected little cunt. Any day of the week, you choose, any fucking day of the week I'm a nice little easy going kinda guy who gives anything out. But what the fuck do I have to do to get ONE MISSERABLE FUCKING BREAK. I mean what. Do I fucking shout to people? Do I behave like a real bastard and spit, curse, break or shit on everything that I can?

What? Just what the fuck is needed? SHIT!!!! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

FUCK IT. FUCK IT NOW AND FUCK IT FOREVER

Good guys finish last, I should now that by now. I should believe that by now. Just fuck it. Fuck it and be fucked by it...

Jesus...

I can't. Hell, I know sooner than later I might feel sorry for writting this and I know that my fucking luck is so wonderful and so peachy, I just now I'm gonna pay for this. I do the right thing and play by the book, I get the shit thrown at me. I do the wrong thing and send the book to go fuck itself, I get fucked. So what the hell, If I'm gonna get fucked, the least I could do is just bent my anger.

I just don't care anymore, I don't care what may come of this. The only thing I care about is it ending, one way or another. My fucking hippity hoppity adventure, my up and downs. Just fuck it. What will I get out of this. Knowing how to choose my friends. Fuck.

So, I don't give a fuck who reads this. If you know me or not, good. And if you do, well I was gonna crack sooner than later. Shouldn't be any fucking surprise. But didn't I said things were gonna be allright. Didn't I say that we would still be friends. I fought for such a long time. I fought the fucking truth for so long so not to hurt anyone. But what the fuck was I thinking. I was huting myself. I was killing myself. And then, just when I see my chance for redemtion, coming of clean, this happens. I become honest to my friend, I DO THE RIGHT FUCKING THING. And this happens, once again, just like before. No previous warning. Caught me right by surprise. And when it does, there's nothing to do. No one to call. No one to accuse or blame or even somenone to talk to. Just me and my writing. It won't be for long. Not for long.

You're never truly alone, there just is the feeling of being alone. But you're never alone. so fuck it. I might be wrong, nothing might have changed and by writing this I might be fucking things even more. But as I said before, the worst times I've been fucked were all due to me not listening to the fucking signals. The worst times came from me not following my gut feeling. The worst came from me, not being me. So fuck it, fuck what tomorrow might bring. I'm ready for it. There hardly is anything more hurtful. My parents and siter or one of my close friends dying perhaps. But hardly anything more than that.

So just fuck it. After all...

...

Just fuck it. What can I do, but wait.

And since my life is a joyfull oyster, there's a good chance you read this. I don't think you come to this page often, or perhaps you ever have. Doesn't matter, it would certainly fit with the past experiences. If you do, I'm sorry. But after a while, it just isn't fair. And I'm not angry at you.. I'm angry at the world. I'm angry at him. I'm angry at myself and I don't know if I did the right thing telling him. I don't know if I did the right thing trusting him. Maybe I should've told you first.

But that's not me.

Remember, The Day Anyone Doesn't See me Smiling, That'll be the Day It Get's Cold in Hell. And I'm still in love with the fucking world, 'cause you still have that look. Thanks.

Under the Dim and Flickering Fluorescent Lighting

Reading helps.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey there, it's been some time since the last time I wrote anything here. Not that you might care, just wanted to set that straight. Well I could tell you the ins and outs of my life and what has been going on lately but that much isn't necesary. Fuck it, it's boring to most people. And since I'm writing for mainly for me (because there hardly is anybody that reads this) I'll just have fun here and there.

Last night, a close friend of mine (kudos to her) passed me this link to a flash animation. Now, I'm used to watch stupid funny flash animations. You know, the kind you find at newgrounds or in youtube when you're bored and clearly have nothing else to do. But what I saw...just imagine that near the end my brain kinda came. It was fucking brilliant. Like something really, really smart in that the whole thing was as simple as black letters on a white background and a jazz soundtrack. It's a poem called Lotus Blosom, the catch is that it dealt with what I now hold as a sacred art called Deconstruction. Deconstruction is basically graving a concept, shifting it's order and setting a new one in which there really is no star and end, but more likely an endless trail of images and/or words that at first might make no sense.

Jaques Derrida (surprinsingly, a french) gave this term to the world in the 60's and employed it to literature. I could explain what deconstruction is or isn't as said on wikipedia. Effortlesly, of course, since no matter how carefully I chose the words, I just couldn't explain it. It's one of those things you have to see for yourself. Besides, how does one explain something that has an inexisting order?

My first run into this technique was about 3 months ago when I saw the highly anticipated (to me) Deconstructing Harry. In my opinion, this is Woddy Allen's best fucking movie (Woody Allen writes, stars and directs this movie). In it, deconstruction is done throughout the movie that leads the viewer into a long series of analysis to the main character, and onto ourselves. After watching it, I pratically pranced around the house like a happy little bunny rabbit. It surprised the hell out of me, got my heart pumping in a verry weird way I couldn't describe. I can't, The same happened with the poem. It feels almost as if finding out something new and exciting. Like I said, makes your brain cum.

I know that sounds disgusting, but fuck you. How else would you describe it? Imagine watching a movie and getting a hold of so many abstract ideas and thoughts that start making you wonder half a dozen types of different shit. Shortly afterwards, I began smoking. I know how it sounds, don't jump into conclusions...judgemental pricks. The first time it's life changing. It fucks you up. It makes you wonder, act, react, think and more things I can't think of at the moment.

After you see something like this, you start judging and going about the external way of things. Fuck everything else. I know I did. Life's too fucked up, there isn't any other way of putting it. You visualize what is that which is really valuable. What is really important and such. That's why I fucking love this jewish son of a bitch, and yes in that "PUT YOUR BALLS IN MY MOUTH" kinda way. Probably not, but you never know. Woody is one more genius this sorry ass world will one day miss dearly. It is my mission to meet him before that happens.

Because not a lot of times in this life will you really feel something as distant as a movie, talk to you. It changes you.

It fucks you up.

God-Fuckin-Dammit, I Shouldn't Have Any Trouble Managging This Stuff

Recently, and periodically, I tend to suffer from writer's block...or so I think. The thing is that most of the time I don't know what to write about. For about several weeks allready I've been thinking what to write about. I've pushed people to read what I put here, I 've begged others. And still, until some minutes ago, I had no clue about what to write about.

From where the fuck do I get the nerve to not know what to do in a blog called Movies, Books and Anything Else, from a guy who calls himself Mr. Bitchin? With that kind of background, I can either talk about movies, books or anything fucking else. Anything else. Can it be any more goddamn general? How hard is it to write about anything else.

Worst yet, how hard can it be to bitch about anything else. I've got an array of things to complain about, the world is full of things to complian about, I could even complain about myself. But instead of bitching, I decide to be a bitch (a whinny one at that) who thinks it's to fucking hard to write.

I'm Mothafuckin Mr. Bitchin, I don't have trouble writting. I have trouble getting into a diet, I have trouble paying attention, I have trouble killing my over optimistic, self-fuckin-righteous friends who think their dicks are bigger because they're better players than me in videogames in a regular friday afternoon session of Halo, I have trouble in a lot of shit, doesn't mean I can't do those things.

But writting, writting is my one best abbility, that and getting along with people. So where do I come off having difficulty on writting? What kind of idiot am I not to be able to write on those basis. Anything else, as if I had trouble talking (or for the matter, writting) about anything else, it's ridiculous, it's idiotic, and it's out of the fuckin question.

You wanna hear about anything else, here's something.

You've ever walked down the street or the mall and you suddenly come across a Victoria's Secret outlet, and you're fascinated by the lingerie on display that you turn you're head slightly to see more, but then you turn you're head again as if you weren't interested on the display so nobody walking by you thinks you're some fucking pervert, and then you have notions of you're close relations or anybody that knows you is also in the mall, in a near-by area, and they're taking a look at you, and they're gossiping about you, and then you start to feel really uncomfortable so you're walking faster and you start looking nervous, so now you have the notion that whoever is near by is thinking "Jesus, that guy just went by a Victoria's Secret store and allready he is really worked up, he must be a pervert. Quick, hide the children."

That ever happen to you guys out there? Have you ever been in a situation like this or somehow similar? A cute girl is about to enter the same office building or bar or hotel or any other compound structure that involves at least one door that you're walking out off, or viceversa, so you do the right thing, and you hold the door so she can pass. Suddenly you get the notion that someone, perhaps even she is thinking "Oh, typical. That guy is looking to get laid. Only reason why he acts like that" and you start getting nervous, and you start commiting stupid shit, like bumping on other people, and as they say "watch it asshole" you go "I'm sorry" as little ignorant stutering bitch, and then you let anyone walk over your pride, that ever happened to you?

You're in school and the girl that you have a crush on is over there talking to some dimwitt, and as you approach her trying to start a pleaseant conversation, you set aside waiting for the other jackass to end talking with her, as a gentleman would do. So you wait and you wait, right besides them. And suddenly, to late I might add, you realize that this guy is actually testing his corting skills.

He also wants to get this girl, probbably has the exact same plan as you do, only with a different result. As you realize this, you're struck with the fact that everyone from your class is watching and you might have just commited some stupis ass shit, standing by this couple in process, making you look like the town looser, has this EVER happened to you?

Here's another one, how about them girls out there. I know a lot of pretty smart chicks out there who are equally (or worse) bullied, set aside, made fun off and other practical bullshit all the world's underdogs have to put up with. Has any of this ever happened to you? no, well it sure has happened to me. And I'll be a motherfucking liar if I told you that shit ain't necesary. It builds character, it sets rules.

Who needs the balls-first-fuckin army, Strict parents and all the religion in the world, when all of life's lessons are given exactly by that, life. Has this shit happened to me? you bet you're dicks and tits it has.

Victoria's Secret oultets, more than the lingerie it was the notion of an unapproved behavior. Fuck that, the world out there doesn't give a flying fuck if I google at lingerie or, for that matter, at women. Now, now I know that for a girl to look real sexy all that shit isn't necessary, I mean Keira Knighlty for example. She was in Domino and Pirates of the Caribean. Domino she had short hair, bad girl attitude, and from time to time, verry little clothe. Pirates, long hair, 18th century london-esque clothing, verry good girl attitude (yes I have seen Pirates 2, I know she has a little bad in her, don't fuckin push it).

Same girl, different attitudes, She looks hot. It isn't the clothes that make the woman, it's the woman that makes the woman (yes, I'm corny, Fuck you for minding). But that doesn't mean I'll disapprove thongs (your regular 18 year-old) and for fun, I'll look with undisputed interest at this displays they have on the Victoria's Secret or any other mayor-undermagets retail store. I'll even look at the posters with the flesh and bone models wearing the latest thing in lingerie, and I'll scream to the top of my lungs "HOT DAMMED", "GOOD GOD ALLMIGHTY" and my favorite "JESUS JUMPING FUCKING CHRIST, LOOK AT THE ASS ON THAT ONE" even if there's a pack of kids or nuns or nuns with kids walking by.

As a matter of fact, if said thing does happen, I'll stop the nuns and say "that's right sisters, you heard me. I thank the lord for women, and only that. You go tell him to shove the rest of his creations up his ass. Nothing has ever topped women. And while you're at it, you can also tell him to change the churches politics here and there. For example, gather all the nuns that beneath all that pseudo-pinguin's bitch attire you so proudly wear are still smoking hot, and malke them wear this for a change.

I'll bet 10 out of 10 in just few hours, more people will believe in God and the sanctimonium-whatever-tha-fuck's-next-jerk-me-off-why-thank-you bullshit you people have established as divine law than there ever were on the thousands of years since little jesus sticked it up the man, and eventually got fucked by the people he came to save. Might do you some good too since some of you are starting to look verry lesbianic. Don't think I have a problem with that. Gays and lesbians should have the goddamn right to do as they please.

They ain't hurting anyone, why should we hurt them? So sister, if you feel the need to get inside the store and go Hallelujah with the models, be my guest. I'll even accompany you and we can have a good time as buddys, Huh? Whata you say? Afterwards, we can go outside the mall and pick up chicks. And as for you kids. Girls, you know what drives a real man crazy, the look those young women have up early in the morning just after a few hours of waking up with no make up and no fancy attires.

Just theire faces and that pillow hair and the illusion that they are vulnerable that drives us crazy. Non of that Paris Hilton fake ass shit. We like our women to be curvilineous, more of it, we like them to be real, and by that I mean natural beuty like them hippie chicks, or like Rob Zombbie's girlfriend. Ocassionally, everyone has it's own tastes, I for example think tatoos are sexy, when they're well placed and well thought of. But the most important thing, is a good healthy body.

By that I mean the body of a woman who likes to take care of herself. If you don't have it by the time you're teens, worry not. Evolution is a slow process, but eventually, everyone can be good looking, hell, I know of big ladies whith whom I like to party with. Just don't fall for to much shiny shit, look after yourselves and be healthy. That's all you need to do. Sure this lingerie stuff helps spice things in any relation. But if a guy only wants you to wear this stuff, and only wants you to look a certain way, well fuck him, the dickless bastard.

YES GIRLS, I SAID THE "F" WORD. LEARN TO USE IT WISELY AND NOBODY WILL "F" YOU.

And boys, YOU WORTHLESS PIECES OF SHIT BETTER GROW UP TO BE RESPECTABLE HUMAN BEINGS. DON'T GO AROUND WITH NONE OF THAT MACHO BULLSHIT, DON'T GO AROUND DISAPRECIATING PEOPLE. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, READ NOW AND THEN. DON'T BE AFRAID OF SHOWING LOVE, DON'T BE FUCKING JUDGEMENTAL AND BE FUCKING PROUD JUST TO BE A SENSITIVE GUY."

I also hold the door for as many people as I can, not just cute girls. Sure the notion of getting laid by holding a door open rocks. And I'm pretty sure somewhere out there someone's gotten that for holding a door open. But it's not the only thing on my mind, look at all that I've written so far, and I'm not done. I have a lot 0f shit to think of. Fuck it, who has the time? And you know who is to blame, Corporate Networks. Those are the assholes putting on shows about "VAT IS IT DIKE TO VE A TINAYE" (that's supposed to be red as if you were mentally challenged, retarded for anyone who doesn't have a grundge with political incorrectness).

WHAT THE FUCK DO THIS PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT BEING A TEENAGER? Besides, were are all the ugly people, were are all the poor people. In this shows someone who is poor and ugly most of the time are preatty much normal. So where is the realism? Where are the bad words? Why is there just sexual innuendo, and not just plain kids fucking? I'll tell you why, because it's not HBO, it's just regular ass TV.

Fuck that shit, I want something real. School is all about the people. The real people, and the rest of the jerks who make it look like a fucking sitcom. Yes sex is on our minds, but it doesn't take up all the space of the brain capacity for everyone (I am, of course, refering to some people). So I do hold the door open for everyone. And if there happens to be a cute girl involved, probably I allready flirted with the idea on having sex qith said woman. I don't use the door as means to get laid, I use dating and similar shit to get laid.

Fuck the pretentious bullshit, I am an old fashioned genlteman sometimes, a dirty motherfucker others, and an all around good guy that put's up with a lot of shit. And about the school stuff, yeah I was through that. That shit actually hapened to me, and when it did I couldn't help feeling as if I had been exposed to my classmates. Well, fuck my classmates, I had a crush on that girl. What can I do? I'm a sucker for pretty faces, plus she had a rockin body and a great attitude. So had I been the way I am now, I would've stepped up.

First I would've told the guy "Listen asshole, I got here first, not that the girl in front of you is an object, but I think I've earned the right to speak with her. So excuse me while I frustrate your booty call, I'm sure you won't have trouble finding something to fuck." Then I would turn to the girl and say "I'm a dork and a nerd, noticeably, yes, by social standards I am a looser, but I'm way funnier to hang out with than the average muscle mass and the rest of them playas so, why not give me a try? You've got nothing to loose. It's not like I'll pay more attention to other girls than to you or that one of my friends will try to hit on you. I don't drink or smoke yet I'm fairly open minded, so....wow, this is the longest pick-up line ever, but hey...You're totally worth it...and it's not like I'm a bonafied Romeo."

Now I don't have that crush anymore, cause now I know about more girls who are equally cute, inteligent and fun to be around (if not, more) than this one girl, and I got the time for them. What I don't got the time for is to feel sorry, feel ashamed, feel embarrased. It was three fucking years ago. I have worked my way around any of that shit back then, let alone that, I don't have time to feel regret about anything I've been trough.

Because I'll be damned if I hadn't done some pretty stupid shit in my life. But you know what, fuck it. So fuck any pet peeves you might have and work your way around them. Hey I'm no Hollywood stud, and people still love me. I'm no 1st class student, but I am a smart guy. I'm no model citizen, no good role model and definetly not a hard working person, and I'm still one of the good guys.

SEE YA ON THE FLIP SIDE

P.S.
and start hearing some good music before I break into your cars, houses, and clubs destroying any of this reggaeton shit. That shit really makes me fuckin' angry.

BRING ON THY SAVIOR, THE SHEPPARD OF THE WEAK AND THE MAN WHO COULD BEAT YOUR ASS WHILE HE FONDLES YOUR MAMA OR YOUR SISTER OR YOUR DAUGHTER

Today's post is dedicated to a verry close friend of mine. This guy showed me how to break free from my box, it could show you as well.

Ok kids, now that I've started with The recognition of my blogg, I think it's time we had a conversation about the man, and I mean the real man not some Hokus-Pokus-Conspiracy-Shit about high goverment official running the show. What fucking show? I say, but that comes later, now let me make the proper introducction.

Bow down motherfuckers.....and ladys. This man, he'll rip up you're materialistic, scared, inconfident, unrespectfull, unrelliable, unintelligent, close-fucking-minded brain, wipe his ass with it, make funny impressions with it, throw it to some prairy dogs, scream, beat, scrap, liquify, freeze, heat, pre-heat, wrap, sell, desintosicate, spit, urinate, and defecate on it with the sole purpose of making you a better person. Because somtimes that's what it takes, or at least that's what the bible says (coming from me, a non-believer, that's gotta mean something).

Geroge Dennis Carlin, one of the most influential stand-up comedians of all times, probably the only one still alive today, is one bad motherfucker. With several awards on his belt, being the first "Saturday Night Live" Host, EVER and the title of the second best comedian of all times in Comedy Centrals "100 best Stand-up Comedians of all time" being beaten only by Richard Pryor (RIP) , Mr. Carlin has made quite a legacy with his constant rantings and jokes of great social relevance (can you see the pattern I'm following here?). Sticking it up to anyone, from the guy next door to God, this man is not to be fucked with. The only joke he ever did that (for my taste isn't true) was that anyone with the name Todd is an softy fuck, seeing that I know of three different Todds that prove that joke to be wrong (see, not everyone is perfect, which just makes him even better). His impression in my life is of such magnitude, that even though I knew it, I had forgotten that my screen name, Brain Droppings, is in fact the name of his first book. Which brings us to todays reason of posting.

Just great, I mean just great. Listen, if you're one of the thousands of ball-scratching mongoloids that don't like to read...wait a minute, that wouldn't make sense because you're reading this. Ok, If you know any ball-scratchig, Football-fannatic, cheese enthusiast mongoloid that doesn't like to read anything that doesn't involves tits and the women that beare them with the uttermost pride because they're huge, then a death threat is in order. You people read this first, and then make those assholes get up of theire asses, that would probbaly have allready been welded to the couch, and tell them to read this, it will at least be an incentive for them to grow past the mental age of a 3 year-old with the ecceptional horniness. Now he would certainly kick Chuck Norris's ass. Here, let me give you a taste of Mr. Carlin's humor.

+When cheese gets it's picture taken, what does it say?

+Is a vegetarian permitted to eat animal crackers?

+Some national parks have long waiting lists for camping reservations. When you have to wait a year to sleep next to a tree, something is wrong.

+Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.

+I have as much authority as the Pope, I just don't have as many people who believe it.

+May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house.

+Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?

+If the #2 pencil is the most popular, why is it still #2?

+Well, if crime fighters fight crime and fire fighters fight fire, what do freedom fighters fight? They never mention that part to us, do they?

+I'm completely in favor of the separation of Church and State. My idea is that these two institutions screw us up enough on their own, so both of them together is certain death.

+At a formal dinner party, the person nearest death should always be seated closest to the bathroom.

+The very existence of flame-throwers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done.

+Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.

+I think it's the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately.

+The only good thing ever to come out of religion was the music.

+Religion convinced the world that there's an invisible man in the sky who watches everything you do. And there's 10 things he doesn't want you to do or else you'll go to a burning place with a lake of fire until the end of eternity. But he loves you! ...And he needs money! He's all powerful, but he can't handle money!

SEE YA ON THA FLIP SIDE

T.G.I. Fridays should change it's name to H.S.I.O. Wednesday, (Holly Shit It's Only Wednesday), that way people would drink more.

Today's title was brought to you from the imagination of George Carlin. George Carlin, when you need someone else to be angry for you, George Carlin.

You know, it has caught my attention that even though I named this blogg Movies, Books and Anything else, I seldomly ever talk about Movies, Books or Anything Else. Which is why today I'm gonna dedicate this space to the imediate movie I can ever think about, the one movie that when someone asks me "hey, What's your favorite movie?", it's the the first to pop into my head...before about a hundred other movies I've seen come out.

Rendering what I firmly believe to be Robert DeNiro's finest hour in acting and giving him the signature catchphrase, the one thing that's believed every actor is granted in his/her lifetime.

*You talking to me*

Classic. This has to be the most contemporary, cultural and sociological Anti-hero. Honestly people, I mean, Al Pacino is by far my favorite actor, and to me, even Tony Montana (Scarface, for those who seem lost) comes out like a punk bitch compared to this guy.

I would like to take this space and remind you that, once again, this is my opinion and you're in all your right to differ from my point of view. Just, don't waste your time telling me about it (as if).

So, why do I preffer to have the hots for this carachter rather than all the other bad-asses that have been inmortalized by the big screen. Simply put, he was by far the most human. Taxi Driver is a raw, dark, twisted and very violent movie, and not because of the blood shed, but because it's social remark. The movie starts with Travis Bickle (DeNiro) asking for a job as a, ejem, taxi driver because he has a severe case of insomnia. But that's not just it. Early in the movie, actually from that scene on we know for sure that Travis is a very disturbed man. The movie never actually says it, but his mood and the way he dresses (An olive green jacket, oviously from the army) suggest that Travis has just returned from Viet-Fuckin-nam. He's constant monologues about how he feels about life and the city and everything else make it a fact, this man hates society and is more confortable living on the underground. His impulse to do good by doing bad things, his alienation from a decadent world in which the wicked rule and (as he sees it) the others must play along. It's just beautiful. Set in the grimm side of New York City with a jazz soundtrack that chills the bones, and portraying how a man that is so fed up with all the bullshit, dicides to train himself in order to fight all evil. Taxi Driver, one of the best movies ever made, and that's a Fact Jack.

Here are some quotes from Travis.

*The days go on and on... they don't end. All my life needed was a sense of someplace to go. I don't believe that one should devote his life to morbid self-attention, I believe that one should become a person like other people.*

*All the animals come out at night - whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.*

*Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood. I think someone should just take this city and just... just flush it down the fuckin' toilet.*

SEE YA ON THA FLIP SIDE

And Now It's Time For Another Of Mr. Bitchin's: What Do I Think About When I Have Nothing to Do And Someone Tells Me To Do Something?

Big Mac's handy guide To:
Use Your Will Endowed Overly Active Imagination To Create A Really Crappy Videogame/Diabetic Neural Radio Toaster/New Bible,
Based On The Interesting Political Views Of Penguins & Yodeling Camels That Live On New Jersey From Were They Save The Universe On A Daily Basis From An Evil Force Known As Deborah The Wrinckled, Lobotomized, Star Search Rejected, AOL Founder, Care Bear Creating Irish Canadian Sarcastic Mustard Seed While Using A Short Title That Makes Sense.

Step 1. Make A Fortune
Step 2. Forget Everything You Learned In School
Step 3. Sell Something Very Simple At A Very High Price
Step 4. Build an Emipire And Wait For Left Wing Militants To Destroy It
Step 5. Save A Lot Of Money On Car Insurance By Switching Over To Geicko
Step 6. Wear a Jewish Ceremonial Gown To Work On Casual Friday
Step 7. Take Over Treadstone
Step 8. Get A Bigger Boat
Step 9. Note That Nobody Really Gave A Crap About The Mushroom Kingdom, He Is A Plummer From Brooklyn So The Only Reason He Saved The Princess Was To Get Laid
Step 10. Get To Move On Up To The Upper East Side
Step 11. Leave The Gun, Take The Cannoli
Step 12. Remember Everything You Learned In School
Step 13. Numa Numa
Step 14. Fight For The Right Chickens Have To Cross The Road
Step 15. Support N.W.A.'s Views By Stating That Undoubtfully A Bitch Is A Bitch And That The Boys In The Hood Are Always Tough Trying As Hard As You Can Not To Quote Easy-E
Step 16. Find Out Who Let The Fucking Dogs Out
Step 17. Get Dance Lessons From Poncho
Step 18. Save Hyrule
Step 19. Prove To The World That It Really Is Butter
Step 20. Call It A Day

Rendevouz with reality

Oh kids, it's time for another of uncle Bitchin's continuous rantings of self experience. This time however, we'll take a different approach at things. Let's talk about things that people believe in and why. Does it actually make them happy or do they do it because of the fear of not belonging anywhere. Now for this time, I would like to quote several ideas from either movies, books, or anything else that comes to mind.

Stand-up comedian Lewis Black once said "You put a guy in a closed room without any way to communicate, including another person, and ask him to come up with a religion, and that person will come up with Christianity".

Harsh words from a hard core comedian (read stuff about him, you can actually read him shouting), but there is a certain amount of reality in what he says nonetheless. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying religion is bad, I'm saying fanatism is bad. When someone (other than me that is) starts bitching about the way we live and how it affects our lives when we don't have enough prayer, that's when everything goes straight to the crapper.

When some man or woman starts beating their kids for making THE LORD unhappy, that's when Christianity proves itself uneffective. When some guy dressed like a ghost says "We in KLU KLUX KLAN are GOD FEARING men dedicated to make this a better world..." Darwin re-checks his evolution theory to see where did he went wrong.

And don't even get me started with the middle eastern fundamentalists. I respect any culture, but beating the last breath out of a woman because her face is showing, well that's just plain wrong. You see, religion would be such a bad idea if it weren't for the fact that it makes most people uneasy, it starts wars, or it makes people like me angry.

It's just the whole santicty of it all sickens me, more so since I'm in a place were people preach more than what the really mean or do and then they pose themselves around it and make out the fact that they're bigger and better.

AND IT'S NOT JUST THEM!!!! It's the christian conservatives and the middleastern fundamentalists and the inbred and ignorant and fearfull who are deeply convinced beyond a reason of a doubt that they are right, that god spoke to them and passed on the truth being that they are indeed the chosen ones amidst this dark and desolate place were nothing but corruption and filth seep through the people.

I strongly believe in 3 things, Mom, Karma, and MY OWN DAMN SELF!!! Why? Because its far more harder for those things to fail.

Now raise your hands if you saw Fight Club, remember when Brad Pitt's character said "We are promised lives of rockstars, and then we get crappy jobs, crappy apartments, and all in all, crappy personalities"...Ok, he said something like that but that was the main idea of it all. You know what you should do and what you shouldn't.

Pretending to follow a superior being or an invisible force unto satanazing free thinkers, homosexuality, the pursuit of science and truth and even alternate religions or belief systems....well that's just wrong and a dirty comunist lie.

BE GOOD (that means satisfying your needs as long as your not a jerk). Peace.

Ok, second post To all those who have wondered what the hell have I've been doing (probably just one), it really doesn't matter. Now before I go on and do what I'm supposed to do, maybe an explanation is at hand. So last post I went a little off board with my comments and such, it was due to my at-the-moment lack of inspiration.

You can even tell by my title that things were not really well planed...which may be a good thing considering that I don't own anything to anyone out there, which doesn't mean I can't change my title and a few things here and there to make this a more openly and enjoyable blog. Now, what Im supposed to do, belieave it or not one of my teachers has and will set homeworks to work in the blogs of the students, primaraly to work our language since we're in Mexico, this week's task (if I may call it that) is to talk about the song or music I first heard in my life.

Here's a fun fact, both my parents pursued their carreres in art, so to speak, being that my father is to the day a radio personality of the public radio (he plays music called "Canto Nuevo" that means New Music, which is kind of like your Bob Dyllan or Cat Stevens) , a retired musician, and a former hippie.

My mother likes all sort of music she consideres "good", so the first song I ever heard was a poem made a song (most of "Canto Nuevo" are poems made songs) named "Alfonsina del Mar" (Alfonsina of the sea) dedicated to an argentinian writer called Alfonsina Stronti who took her own life, surpisingly enpugh the song is rather sweet and calm to a point that my mother usedit as a lulaby for both me and my sister.

That was the first song I ever heard, later on in my life, my dad introduce me to such rock groups as The Doors, The Beetles, Grand Funk Railroad, Deep Purple and other 60's and 70's bands (they say I made funny impressions of Jim Morrison, not because they were really good but because there was a three year-old in his pijamas pretending to be drunk and high).

Then my cousins and my brothers, huge fans of hip hop, introduce me to the music (old school...bitch).

The rest...Highschool. You tend to pick up stuff as you go. Example. HATED punk rock music before I got to highschool. Hated it. Pretty weird if you ask me, specially since I really hadn't heard any real punk rock.

I was so used to the skater punk and happy punk (which I now know it's more of an evolution, kinda like new-wave gangzta rap; it sucks!). So naturally, being that I'm not a close minded prick or an idiot, I do have a wide variety of friends of which all like different styles in music and we all share our likes and tend to compare and adjust or however you wanna call it.

I first got into so-called screamo, emo and hardcore punk. It wasn't until way later that I heard my very first real punk song. The Misfit's Astro Zombies.

So that about does it, those were the first songs I heard in my life. Write to you later.

Popping the cherry

Maybe, you want me to introduce myself. Well screw that, I don't trust the internet that much, so for the moment let's just keep our identitys for ourselves, what I could do is give you a description of me (you know just in case the profile thingy is not enough for you), Im 18, male, mexican, fat (though not huge), geek, and depending on what you say to me I can be nice or a dirty motherfucker, but not always. So have fun, and tell me things that you would like to talk about.