March 16, 2007

  • Eating Cake

    Nothing you can say can stop me going home


    Ok, guys, here's the scoop...
    I'm selfish and self-serving, I'm greedy, I don't care about others, I'm willing to take but not give, I'm not worthy of anyone's trust, and I have worked only to permanently destroy my own dreams.


    You don't know what it means to feel like shit until someone that you care very much about... more than anything in the world (maybe a parent?) looks you in the eye without a shake in their hand or a quiver in their voice and says that they love you becuase they have to, but they do not like you.


    Sucks huh?


    so, that been said... WHO'S UP FOR CAKE??


    haha, yeah, no more games, I'm gonna change what you call rage and tear this motherfucking roof off like two dog's caged, I was playin' in the beginning but the mood all changed I've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage.


    but now that's over


    ps. This is why I'm hot, I'm hot because I'm fly, and you ain't becuase you're not


    pps. I've added a link to my band Betterman's myspace page there on the left, feel free to click

March 13, 2007

  • Fall Out Boy is officially taking over the world


    today in the radio in my car without any other songs played in between i heard this


    on MIX 102.9 i heard Sugar We're Going Down, after that, I switched to
    106.1 KISS FM where I heard This Ain't A Scene, after that, I turned to
    102.1 the EDGE where I heard Dance, Dance


    all of this SEQUENTIALLY i didn't here any songs in between, I heard the whole song on each of them, and there were no commercial breaks.  It was like SONG switch SONG switch SONG.  I was honestly scared.

March 11, 2007

  • Nothing You Can Say

    Alrighty, for all you doubters out there, (and I know you're out there) I officially don't give a crap anymore.  I know that alot of you know that I've been taking alot of B.S. for quite some time now, and I've been letting it affect me.  Well, I'm telling you right here and right now, that it is no longer going to affect me (although I'll still be taking some serious B.S.)  For everyone that cares: thank you for caring
    For everyone else: fuck you =)


     


    And now for something completely different.
    I am about to name a movie and it will be your job to see it.
    300
    Ok, now go see that movie, it will be one of the best decisions you ever made.


    ok, said my piece now peace out.


    ~Good Luck With Life

March 6, 2007

  • My, what an unpleasant little movie.


    I Drink Your Blood was half of a double bill of "2 Great Blood Horrors to Rip Out Your Guts!"released on an unsuspecting drive-in public in 1971 by the aptly-named Jerry Gross Organization. The other Great Blood Horror was, of course, I Eat Your Skin.  What a great idea, I thought.


    We open on the nightly ritual of your typical hippie devil-worshipping cult (credo: "Satan was an acidhead."), as they stand around naked, preparing to sprinkle fresh chicken blood over a similarly naked woman (and as the stalwarts at Stomp Tokyo have pointed out, nudity in the very first scene of a movie is a sure sign of trouble ahead). A "local girl" observes, transfixed, a mere two or three feet away, and somehow remains undetected, until the Pregnant Hippie Chick spots her. Local Girl is then chased down by nude devil worshippers - one of the very few effective sequences in the movie, and far too short to be of any use.


    We will note that once again Dr. Freex is using cutesy labels like Pregnant Hippie Chick and Local Girl for the dramatis personae - I Drink Your Blood does not provide a cast list, and the general tenor/quality of the film is not such that it would inspire caring much about such niceties as names, except in cases where the name is repeated over and over again until it is bludgeoned into your cerebellum. Let us carry on.


    The next day the cult's van breaks down, and to show their youthful joie de vivre, they shove it into a ravine with one of their members still inside, asleep. Ah, what fun-loving hippie devil worshipper hi-jinx! They then find themselves on the outskirts of Pottersville, with a sign that states "Population 40,000"... with the 40,000 crossed out and "40" scrawled beside. Seems the town is practically deserted due to a nearby dam being built. The cult's leader, Horace (snicker) decides this is a perfect spot to stay awhile.


    Except that this is where the "local girl" came from, and only this morning she staggered into town, beaten up and dosed to the gills on LSD. Nobody seems to make a connection between her condition and the arrival of the cult - who alternately explain themselves as either a rock group or a theatrical group. But then, of the supposed 40, we see only Local Girl, her annoying younger brother Pete, their Grandpa (the local veternarian), and the woman who still operates the town bakery at the behest of the men building the dam. I think her name is Sylvia, and we will call her that, as during the course of the movie we will constantly hope that she will try to make a statement like Sylvia Plath and kill  herself, but to no avail.


    The cult takes up residence in an abandoned hotel, beginning their stay with an orgy of rat-hunting, leading to one of the more memorable images: the cult's Token Black Dude (TBD) standing on a fire escape, holding aloft a bunch of dead rats and shouting, "Hey man! Look at my rats!" Local Girl comes out of her acid coma and tells Gramps what happened. Gramps wanders over to the hotel, shotgun in hand, and commits the error so many people have in films of this caliber: although holding a full-choke shotgun, he gets nose-to-nose with Horace, and promptly gets the stuffing kicked out of him, and (of course) dosed with LSD.


    Pete does not take too kindly to this, and uses Gramps' vet equipment to drain the blood from a rabid dog and inject the blood into the meat pies the cult eats the next day. Well, it was a long strange trip, but we finally have the setup for our little horror movie. Rabies apparently only takes a couple of hours to set in, and (an offscreen voice informs us) fills you with a craving for raw flesh. So a slew of bloodthirsty, insane hippies are roaming the land with various utensils of destruction.


    According to Mike Weldon, I Drink Your Blood was cut extensively to get an R rating, and some pretty ham-fisted editing it was, too, as things get rather incoherent from here on out. Somehow, some construction workers at the dam get infected, too, effectively tripling the number of rabid loonies with axes walking the streets. From what's left of the sequence, it could be assumed that the workers found the rabid Sexpot Hippie in the woods and had their way with her (hmmm... seem to recall a similar sequence in Cronenberg's Rabid.....) and now are paying the price. Or maybe we should follow the film's logic and assume they just magically caught it.


    No, no, something is missing, because Local Girl and Pete are, for some reason, running away through the woods with Hick, the only cultist with a shred of decency. They come upon the Pregnant Hippie Chick and tell her she has rabies. In the film's most (well, only) disturbing moment, she kills herself and her unborn child by pounding a wooden stake through her own belly (she's also the best actress in this mess. Pity.). It was very discomfiting finding a genuinely horrifying moment in an otherwise dishwater-weak movie.


    Local Girl, Hick and Pete also run into the TBD with an axe. The TBD, however, is stopped cold by the fact that they're standing in a stream - ah! of course! HYDROphobia! The rabid guys are afraid of water!


    So of course our nominal heroes run back into town, as far away from the stream as humanly possible.


    Sylvia has boarded herself into the bakery, Night of the Living Dead style, and through sheer cowardice, allows Hick to be killed. She opens the door, too little, too late, as the rabid zombies pile in, destroying the bakery (and revealing that the back wall was only a thin piece of paneling. Oops.). In an all-too-rare clever touch, Sylvia keeps the rabids at bay with a common garden hose, while everybody piles into her car...which, because this is a crap film, will not start. Luckily, the state police arrive and shoot everything that has a foaming mouth. Sorta makes you wonder what the authorities would do in such a situation in the Real World.


    Dr. Oakes, who has the thankless task of being the only intelligent person at hand, opines, "At least the poor bastards are out of their misery. Death from hydrophobia is an agony." What an uplifting final line! Such closure! As the credits roll, we see Pete walking in a field. This is a mistake, as this allows us time to realize that all this carnage, bloodshed, and misery (especially our misery) is due to Pete, so we wait and hope to see him run into the Mute Rabid Hippie Zombie (whose fate remains unexplained), another mad dog, or, at the very least, to be struck by lightning. No such luck. The little dickweed gets away with it.


    Adding to the lamentable quality of the film are the many unanswered questions, like, Where's the dam? Why is an older Asian woman, complete with Suzy Wong outfit, traveling with the cult? What the hell accent is Horace trying to pull off? Why don't people just follow the stream to the next bastion of civilization? As far as that goes, why the hell doesn't someone just pick up the phone and call the cops? Another nail in the cinematic coffin is the reprehensible mondo easy gross-out: all those dead animals - the chicken, the rats, the goat carcass the zombies are carrying around at the end - are real.


    I Drink Your Blood, due to the cutting, eliminates the only possible reason for watching such a flick: violence, and lots of it. Oh, there's plenty of gore thrown around, but we're denied the money shots. We always see the aftermath of the violence, never the occurance, and we can be sure they were there - so bad are the edits, that the soundtrack skips like a CD fished out of the mud.



    Overall, I rate this movie EXTREMELY KRUNK 

March 4, 2007


  • White kitchen walls with a thousand windows
    Turn on Winston in the den
    And I'm still asleep but I can hear the piano
    When you make breakfast after 10
    And I smell the coffee on your fingers
    I still smell the perfume in the bed
    The crushed linen roses on everything
    And you're still inside my head

    You gotta make her know how it feels to miss you
    Let her know you're swapping sides
    You're not the one with all the problems
    You're the one with all the pride

    So just pick your head up boy, and
    Walk away
    Walk the coolest walk that you know
    Cause in a month or two she'll call you
    You gotta hang up the phone

    I hope she knows I've got this memory
    That won't ever seem to break or bend
    A thick lock & sheet rock is on my windows in the kitchen
    I don't think I'll ever take em' down again

    And I've learned a lot from all these break ups and make ups
    And fuck ups and fake ups
    Things that I wish you could comprehend yeah, comprehend
    But for now I'll lace up
    these wingtip shoes, boys
    And I'll go have breakfast with my good friends

    You got to make her know how it feels to miss you
    You got to let her know you're swapping sides
    You're not the one with all the problems
    You're the one with all the pride

    You got to make her know how it feels to miss you
    Let her know you're swapping spit
    You're not the one with all the problems
    She's the one that's full of shit

    So just pick your head up, boys and
    Walk away
    Walk the coolest walk that you know
    In a month or two she'll call you
    You got to
    Hang up the phone...

March 1, 2007

  • Information breeds DISTRUST
    Distrust breeds THINKING
    Thinking breeds ANARCHY


     


    So, everyone has problems with everybody, and everyone is in a bad mood.  Here is my plan, everybody just needs to forget their problems, suck it up, smile and have a great rest of their senior year!


    FUCK that, if it were that easy i'd've done it a long time ago.  The fact is I'm sick and tired of this mess, and I want ammends.

February 27, 2007

  • I'm Done

    So yeah, fuck stuff eh? In case you can't guess, I'm not in a good mood at all - pissed really. I'm just tired of being used and taken advantage of by my "friends"...really fucking sick of it. I have to ponder how many true friends I have. I'm so sick of being rejected for nothing. Pushed away like some sort of animal that deserves no shelter. Fuck you! Why don't you curl up in a corner somewhere and shelter yourself next time you want my help then? I'm tired of this. I have very few true friends. Everyone else, fuck off, you don't deserve my help anymore. You should probably know who you are. Prove me wrong or back the fuck off. I'm out.


    - I got this from Patrick's xanga but it applies to my situation right now PERFECTLY!


     


    i hate taking crap like this... why do i? somewhere inside of me do i actually like this?  is it some kinda thrill to me to continue this pointless pursuit?  whatever, all i know is that it is bringing me down emotionally.


    yeah, i'm gonna but a big long bad-ass post about science bowl up soon, stay tuned and good luck with life

February 21, 2007

  • "Drilled A Wire Through My Cheek"

    I try to stay on top of you
    To hold your body down
    Your shaking seems to hinder
    Every grasp that I have found

    Moving every inch around me
    To defuse your private bomb
    I stretch myself surrounding
    And protecting you from harm

    I use a wallet for your mouth
    So when you bite you will not bleed
    I drilled a wire through my cheek
    And let it down and out my sleeve

    And now you're pulling out the best of me
    Yeah which never ever comes
    This wires all thats left of me
    And its hooked within my gums
    Within my gums...

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it

    Its proof to show that I bleed for this
    And I'd cut myself the shame
    To get to know this masochist
    Who has stolen my first name

    Pretending he's a teacher
    Holding all my weight at ease
    Yet the teacher seems to split in two
    Destroying both his knees

    Now crawling I position myself
    Below your broken wings
    I lift your feathered left arm
    Where you hide your heart from me

    I never noticed it was swollen
    With the touch of brutal pain
    I never knew a heart could live inside
    The rust from all your rain
    All your rain...

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it

    I didnt think to bring a wash cloth
    And rub away the dirt
    Myself and I we share
    This barely beating heart of hurt

    And when the hurt comes theres an argument,
    A fight to save a smile
    A small attack on human tears
    To dry them for a while

    A dream we all should count on ;
    Yeah a vision I believe
    Where confidence is found
    Attached to wires on our sleeve

    Where loneliness is history
    Told to pack his shit and leave
    Where guidance is a fortune
    Told to help in time of need

    And were crying isn't secret
    It's the art of how we griev
    And lessons are the key
    To every goal I will acheive
    I will achieve

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it

    So drill it, so drill it
    So hard
    Feel it


     


    I am better than me... ... ...I hope


    By the way... today was pretty awesome, after school... Donald, Sushant, and I just kind of let out some of the tension from the whole Science Bowl fiasco, and we had kinda a blast tearing up Mr. Eslami's room (all the computers were fine, we just had a pretty kick ass paper ball fight)

February 17, 2007

  • Piano Man

    It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
    The regular crowd shuffles in
    There's an old man sitting next to me
    Making love to his tonic and gin

    He says, "Son can you play me a memory
    I'm not really sure how it goes
    But it's sad and it's sweet
    And I knew it complete
    When I wore a younger man's clothes"

    Sing us a song you're the piano man
    Sing us a song tonight
    Well we're all in the mood for a melody
    And you've got us feeling alright

    Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
    He gets me my drinks for free
    And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
    But there's someplace that he'd rather be

    He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me"
    As a smile ran away from his face
    "Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star
    If I could get out of this place"

    Now Paul is a real estate novelist
    Who never had time for a wife
    And he's talking with Davy, who's still in the Navy
    And probably will be for life

    And the waitress is practicing politics
    As the businessmen slowly get stoned
    Yes they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
    But it's better than drinking alone

    Sing us a song you're the piano man
    Sing us a song tonight
    Well we're all in the mood for a melody
    And you've got us feeling alright

    It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
    And the manager gives me a smile
    'Cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to see
    To forget about life for a while

    And the piano sounds like a carnival
    And the microphone smells like a beer
    And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
    And say "Man what are you doing here?"

    Sing us a song you're the piano man
    Sing us a song tonight
    Well we're all in the mood for a melody
    And you've got us feeling alright



    that sounds like fun... hangin out in one of those somkey joints listen'n to some dude play the piano really well... sounds kinda refreshing

    i wanna be happy like that... not excited... not living for the moment... just happy... i haven't been like that in a while

    i don't even remember why i'm not happy, it just kicked in a while back and turned into one of those fevers you can't sweat out (but it's better if you do)...

    iono... sometimes i have my days... haha, my "happy" days... maybe today will be a happy day... i'm sure there's a pill around here somewhere... jk

    who am i kidding, those never last... my friends make me happy... i like my friends... thank you

February 14, 2007

  • Sooo, it is V-Day and Vicki wasn't even at school  ; )


    anyway, yeah iono how long this is gonna be but here we go:


    For some stupid reason, i am stupid.  No matter how poisonous the apple may be, I can't resist wanting to bite it.  I know it is bad for me, and I know it seems foolish to keep trying but Matchbox Twenty says it best:


    I've got a disease deep inside me


    Somebody help me get over this (it might take a helluva lot of chardonet!)