THE "HEY" PEOPLE
We've all known them. The people that you don't really talk to, and the people that you don't really consider yourself to be friends with. But you still say "hey" to them all the same, every time you see them. Without fail.
This is a special category of people. They are in no way considered friends. Friends are people that you hang out with. That you know things about. That you could call and have a meaningful (or meaningless) conversation with. These people do not fall under any of these headings. But they are not really acquaintances either. You at least have dinner with an acquaintance every now and again. You hang out with them from time to time, maybe even stop by their room.
These people are even less than that. They are the "hey" people. Those people that you pass by in the hallway and say "hey" to, and this is your only contact with them. Some people, and I shant name names here, would just as soon walk right past these people, without offering the "hey". But it really is the polite thing to do. It's our way of saying, "Hey, I know I don't hang out with you or talk to you ever, but you're a decent person and I just want you to know that."
Now, friends, and I'm not talking about great friends here, but regular friends, they come and go. But the "hey" people will always be there.
THERE IS EVIL THERE THAT DOES NOT SLEEP
Has anyone even seen Chris Constant sleep? And I don't mean physically seen it, but just consider this scenario: Somebody is looking for Chris, they ask around, and someone says, "Yeah, he's in his room asleep" or "He's taking a nap right now." I've never heard anything along those lines. I don't think the man sleeps.
Quite frankly, I don't think he's human, and I would like to submit the aforementioned non-sleeping example as my first piece of evidence. Secondly, I've never seen him when he wasn't on the move. I've never just seen him sitting around, playing video games, watching tv, or just listening to music. He never stops moving. I'm fairly sure that's because the robotic gears that power him never shut off.
Finally, and I believe this is the most startling piece of evidence: I've never, not even once, seen this "man" use the bathroom. And I've lived on the same floor as him for two and a half semesters. Statistically speaking I should have seen this happen at least once, but I haven't. Never have I seen him go into or come out of a stall.
I rest my case.
TARANTINO IS A SELF-INDULGENT ASSHOLE: VOLUME 1
It was okay, and by "okay" I mean that it was tollerable, that the advertisements for Kill Bill proclaimed it as "The 4th film by Quentin Tarantino." I could live with that. That's how the powers that be chose to market the film, and God knows how much I love advertising people, so it was excusable. But when the opening credits of the movie popped up and said the exact same phrase, I was absolutely appauled. What kind of asshole has the balls to start numbering his films? Who gives a flying fuck if it's his fourth movie. If sheer number of movies produced was the end all be all of success in the movie business, then Woody Allen would be a fucking demigod by now. Fuck Tarantino. Fuck him up his stupid ass.
CHALLENGE EXTENDED...CHALLENCE ACCEPTED
So there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make movies. To say it another way, there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make bad movies. And to say it even another way, there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make bad movies, but he doesn't know they're bad. His movies, and I dare not call them films, are so bad that were you to view them, you could draw the conclusion that this kid has never so much as seen a movie in his entire life. The direction is terrible, the editing is chaotic at best, and there's nary a plot to be found.
But for some inexplicable reason, people like his movies. He shows them to the dorm and people whoop and holler like a bunch of retarded monkeys. And it is for this reason that I have decided to show up this little bastard. He has inadvertantly thrown down the gauntlet, and I'm prepared to answer, and answer with vigor. As sad as it is, my only goal in life right now is to belittle this little pissant's skills as a filmmaker. He has entered a world of pain.
HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED FOR SEGA
Last night, something occurred to me. I was hanging out in my room with a bunch of people, one of which being my girlfriend, and I started to play hockey on the old PS2. And I couldn't help but think of the beginning of Mallrats where Jason Lee is lying in bed next to his girlfriend, and instead of talking to her or cuddling with her, he picks up his controller and commences to play hockey. To make matters worse, his girlfriend's name in that movie was Renee, and, isn't this just perfect, my girlfriend's name is also Renee. What if my life is turning into some kind of Kevin Smith movie. For God's sake, I've already spent three years of my life working in a cheap-assed fucking video store. I suppose the next logical step would be to start writing comic books and fall in love with a known lesbian in the hopes of converting her back to hetero status only to have her break up with me after I propose a three way involving the two of us and my best friend. Oh well, things could always be worse.
We've all known them. The people that you don't really talk to, and the people that you don't really consider yourself to be friends with. But you still say "hey" to them all the same, every time you see them. Without fail.
This is a special category of people. They are in no way considered friends. Friends are people that you hang out with. That you know things about. That you could call and have a meaningful (or meaningless) conversation with. These people do not fall under any of these headings. But they are not really acquaintances either. You at least have dinner with an acquaintance every now and again. You hang out with them from time to time, maybe even stop by their room.
These people are even less than that. They are the "hey" people. Those people that you pass by in the hallway and say "hey" to, and this is your only contact with them. Some people, and I shant name names here, would just as soon walk right past these people, without offering the "hey". But it really is the polite thing to do. It's our way of saying, "Hey, I know I don't hang out with you or talk to you ever, but you're a decent person and I just want you to know that."
Now, friends, and I'm not talking about great friends here, but regular friends, they come and go. But the "hey" people will always be there.
THERE IS EVIL THERE THAT DOES NOT SLEEP
Has anyone even seen Chris Constant sleep? And I don't mean physically seen it, but just consider this scenario: Somebody is looking for Chris, they ask around, and someone says, "Yeah, he's in his room asleep" or "He's taking a nap right now." I've never heard anything along those lines. I don't think the man sleeps.
Quite frankly, I don't think he's human, and I would like to submit the aforementioned non-sleeping example as my first piece of evidence. Secondly, I've never seen him when he wasn't on the move. I've never just seen him sitting around, playing video games, watching tv, or just listening to music. He never stops moving. I'm fairly sure that's because the robotic gears that power him never shut off.
Finally, and I believe this is the most startling piece of evidence: I've never, not even once, seen this "man" use the bathroom. And I've lived on the same floor as him for two and a half semesters. Statistically speaking I should have seen this happen at least once, but I haven't. Never have I seen him go into or come out of a stall.
I rest my case.
TARANTINO IS A SELF-INDULGENT ASSHOLE: VOLUME 1
It was okay, and by "okay" I mean that it was tollerable, that the advertisements for Kill Bill proclaimed it as "The 4th film by Quentin Tarantino." I could live with that. That's how the powers that be chose to market the film, and God knows how much I love advertising people, so it was excusable. But when the opening credits of the movie popped up and said the exact same phrase, I was absolutely appauled. What kind of asshole has the balls to start numbering his films? Who gives a flying fuck if it's his fourth movie. If sheer number of movies produced was the end all be all of success in the movie business, then Woody Allen would be a fucking demigod by now. Fuck Tarantino. Fuck him up his stupid ass.
CHALLENGE EXTENDED...CHALLENCE ACCEPTED
So there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make movies. To say it another way, there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make bad movies. And to say it even another way, there's this kid in the dorm who likes to make bad movies, but he doesn't know they're bad. His movies, and I dare not call them films, are so bad that were you to view them, you could draw the conclusion that this kid has never so much as seen a movie in his entire life. The direction is terrible, the editing is chaotic at best, and there's nary a plot to be found.
But for some inexplicable reason, people like his movies. He shows them to the dorm and people whoop and holler like a bunch of retarded monkeys. And it is for this reason that I have decided to show up this little bastard. He has inadvertantly thrown down the gauntlet, and I'm prepared to answer, and answer with vigor. As sad as it is, my only goal in life right now is to belittle this little pissant's skills as a filmmaker. He has entered a world of pain.
HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED FOR SEGA
Last night, something occurred to me. I was hanging out in my room with a bunch of people, one of which being my girlfriend, and I started to play hockey on the old PS2. And I couldn't help but think of the beginning of Mallrats where Jason Lee is lying in bed next to his girlfriend, and instead of talking to her or cuddling with her, he picks up his controller and commences to play hockey. To make matters worse, his girlfriend's name in that movie was Renee, and, isn't this just perfect, my girlfriend's name is also Renee. What if my life is turning into some kind of Kevin Smith movie. For God's sake, I've already spent three years of my life working in a cheap-assed fucking video store. I suppose the next logical step would be to start writing comic books and fall in love with a known lesbian in the hopes of converting her back to hetero status only to have her break up with me after I propose a three way involving the two of us and my best friend. Oh well, things could always be worse.
