Inception sucks donkey cocks. Leo and Ellen Paige are garbage. You have to be so gullible, so willing to buy into the hype for any of this shit to be plausible, even in a sci-fi mindset. I don’t care if the totem stops or not, I was just happy to bounce and not have to take anymore of that FUCKING REPETITIVE blaring music to the dome anymore. Over and over with the same fucking noise. Fuck you Nolan. Write better and skip the ear drum rape.

To each his own and that’s fair enough for me. If you loved it and watched it 10x already and are THE ONE who has all the plot holes sewn up and jack off while writing your thesis on how amazingly symmetrical Nolan’s balls are, then kudos. Symmetry is beauty.

Parts that made me emotionally retarded;

1) Ooooh… I get it Michael Caine taught him this shit in University!!! Must be a gut course, because I got nothing but C’s in classes I slept through.

2) Is that a shaved Teddy Rucksbury? No wait, Ellen Paige.

3) Aaaaah… they have to stop the white kid from getting all the corporate power says the old Japanese guy (with no evidence provided, other than Mr. Miagi’s word…). This one gets a giant What The Fuck? Only Americans would be stupid enough to accept this as plausible. Retards.

4) The white kid/son of megalomaniac corporate honcho is a decent guy who doesn’t dismember hookers on the weekend with a spoon. Also completely implausible.

5) People can’t shoot straight to save their life in dreams.

Wasn’t all bad. I’ll give props to Gordon-Levitt for being cooler than Leo and Tom Hardy for being Tom Fucking Hardy! Maybe Nolan didn’t get his way with the studio, but Leo/Paige are really just ticket pushers. I don’t even know if I can differentiate between Leo in Shutter Island and this. Same stupid face. Seems like he’s always trying to do a Christian Slater impression. My bet is that he saw Gleaming The Cube and is still trying to mentally cope.

But you have to have these fucking people in these fucking movies these days. Remember the last time you saw an ensemble cast movie, with zero stars, in the theater? Maybe My Big Fat Greek Wedding and I’m reasonably certain that’s why Greece went bankrupt. Don’t fuck with Hollyweird.

I have no idea how to piece together a story, but there’s a couple of scenes that will be fun to make and hopefully entertaining. Thinking 20 minutes tops, maybe split into 3 story lines. Reckon I should start watching some low budget flicks to steal ideas… or I could just go out to the bar and bullshit with people about zombie movie ideas in Korea and see what comes up. Little from column A, little from B.

Writing a story is kinda hard. I googled how to do it and basically got, ‘write a lot, edit more’, which is fair and I have plenty o’ time. Once I get that shit outta the way thou, it’s all gravy. Excited to create gore! Who wouldn’t be? Plus pig intestines are all over the place here.

I’m at work now and I sit facing the other waygook teacher. I can see him now between the computer screen and I can smell his lunch. He has the same lunch everyday and it fucking freaks me out. Dude buys either rice or noodle and a can of tuna. Then gingerly forks a little into the other and chews with his mouth open. Looks like a hobo with cat DNA. Plus he’s Russian so plus 5 points for creepy mannerisms. Every day he does this. Every fucking day. I can’t decide if I want to keep staring at him or decapitate myself. Once he asked me if I kept up on the news, then asked if I knew about the Iraq war and what that was about. Fuck you, you noodle-catcan-ruskie motherfucker.

Till tomorrow.

10 minutes ago I started writing my zombie/busan epic that will no doubt take the world by storm. But then I had to stop because I couldn’t figure out how to change the Word format (in Korean) so I wasn’t writing over what I’d previously written… if that doesn’t make sense then I’ll simplify. I’m comptarded. Give me the world’s fanciest Mac and I’ll spend 20 minutes trying to figure out where the other cursor button is, then chuck it out the window. Just not my thing.

I have most of the epic flesh out in my head aside from story arc, protagonist and all the words. Really going to be relying on the wicked bus flip scenario, but I can probably stretch that into at least 3 pages. An acquaintance of mine once told me the hardest part about writing is coming up with believable names. Might be true. I’ve got a back log of awful names though; Chad, Edmond… Buckley for fuck’s sake!

Truth be told, I think the zombie genre is severely anemic. Take religion, for example. Start out with a couple classic oldies, time warp forward a century or ten and you can become a level 7 nancy (good name!) alien wasting, Tomcat fisting, asteroid galloper for a measly $190,000. That makes zero sense. Apologies, skittles really amp me up. The belated point is I don’t see the justification behind all this bush league Romero’s ‘classics’ worship. For better or worse, you have to evolve. Take the Simpsons, I used to love that shit, but now it gives me seizures because it’s not tailored to my generation anymore. I guess you could argue that Zombieland was a move in the direction or a crack in the mold, but not really. If you’re going to make a zombieflick with Woody H. just redo Natural Born Killers and revamp it as Mickey/Mallory are, well, themselves… but with zombies! Actually that sounds like crap, but admit it, Rodney Dangerfield (RIP) would have made Christ himself uncomfortable as a zombie.

Have to pick this up again tomorrow…

Ah, I love you www.alternet.org/  One of those interesting, “everything sucks”, news portals that I can’t seem to tear myself away from.  Not as good as www.theexiled.com/  As much as I like to read about this stuff, I’d be remiss not to mention how much I fucking loath “poli-talk”.  My co-worker is a major poli-talker.  I blame Yahoo!

Damn you, culturebook!  I was perfectly content not blogging…

Something funny… got it.  Potentially only funny if you know me.  Just finished seasons 3-6 of The L Word.  My conjegus monogemus gets a kick out of this.  For all intensive purposes, I’m a straight-white-American-blue eyed-big nosed-swinging dick that has no real business delving into the pseudo realities of lesbian life in LA, but there’s no Lakers references so I can hang.

What I’ve learned about lesbians from The L Word:

Preface:  If you are a lesbian, this will likely offend you.  Sorry sista.

#1- SLUTS!  Filthy, filthy sluts, one and all!

#2- Lesbians spend an incredible amount of time making out/finger banging.

#3- Young lesbians or MILFish lesbians can get it on in the buff, however older lez girls must roll around in the hay wearing the western equivalent to a burka.  (Ageism is alive and well.  But fuck you baby boomers.  Retire already, before we have to go all Soylent Green on your entitled asses.)

#4- Gay men won’t raise a baby after impregnating a transitioning f2m man.  Where’s the honor?

#5- If you are a f2m transitioning transexual and your baby’s daddy takes off, all you need to do is shave your beard down to a Prefontaine ‘stache.  Problem solved!

Now I have no problem with homo/bi/hetero/prefix-sexuals what so ever.  I do think this show could have done a lot more than digress into Dallas, as far as being received by a larger audience.  Seems like every episode had a mandatory 15 minutes of girl on girl to placate the studios insecurity about it being unmarketable with a larger audience.  None of the characters were really admirable, but it’s showbiz I reckon.

Been on hiatus from the bleg, probably doesn’t help that I’m computer-less and without a boob tube. I find that screens kill me. If I’m in public and there’s a screen within 400m, I just can’t stop staring at the damn things. A pirate walks into a bar with a ship’s helm attached to his groin. The bartender says, “What’s up with the helm?” The pirate responds, “AAArrrggh! It be drivin’ me nuts.” Same concept.

Oh Korea! You country! Can’t remember who it was, but someone got sued for slander for ripping on a Konglomerate so I’ll have to tone it down and play nice. Or use metaphors. Big ones with fuzzy dice in the mirror.

My new favorite game is called “Bullshit! You’ll Be Back”. Just engage somebody who’s leaving soon to go pursue any of the following; a) teaching ESL in not-Korea, b) teacher’s college, c) “just gonna travel and see what happens” (my favorite). Nothing better than ripping on people for the stupid shit you’ve done in the past. Why else would people have kids? I’m playing this game with myself at the moment while trying to suss out grad school options. The difference between kids and adults in terms of how they view education is pretty simple. Kids study what they like. Adults want a fuckin job. The pie in the sky is a job where you don’t wake up and feel like eating scalloped glass. Being older really takes all the fun out of it. I like writing, but I also like eating.

My worst habit here, aside from smoking/drinking like prohibition just ended, is keeping up with the news. Ugh! You swarthy media skanks and you stupid fucking lemming-internet article-repeating cockbrained twenty somethings are preposterous! All I hear for 2 months is BP, BP bad, BP not good, BP so so, I like anything not-BP. Then they plug the fucking thing and what’s that? Can’t hear you? Oh… no one knew. And I mean not a single person I talked to in the next 2 weeks. “Well fuck you, bleg-guy, I fuckin’ knew”, says everyone. The one nice thing is that they continuously come up with new and ridiculously retarded shit to shovel. Lebron, Iran, Whatever-istan and so on. I will say that I’m almost positive that Obama will green light Iran. He’s just lost too much cred. Like a school yard bully that the first graders start refusing to give their snack packs to, he’ll go bananas on the rich kid with the best sandwich/lunchbox. Won’t even eat the sandwich, just blow that shit up. Boom! But that’s culture.

My girlfriend (not Korean) says I’m becoming a hobo. According to her I’m insanely cheap, refuse to throw anything away, and suck at grooming. I’m just making my own culture, baby! I love culture! It’s the greatest excuse in modern times available. Didn’t get mad when my apartment didn’t have water and my boss didn’t fix it for 3 weeks… culture! She really pushed me to restart this runs inducing bleg, which mystified me because nobody puts baby in a corner! See that doesn’t even make sense.

To be 100% honest, I can dish it out, but cannot take it at all. Also, Jean Claude Van Damme was the original Predator, err, guy in the suit. Inception was almost as overrated as English grammar.

I was sitting at work, on hour 3 of screen staring, playing Infectonator on Kongregate.com when Dickey came in. He’s, I don’t know, 8-10 years old and a wonderful psychopath. My favorite in class activities with Dickey/not-Dickeys consists of making up songs about Dickey’s name or telling him I’m going to take his face… off. Anyways, he rolls in and screams, “Teacher! Game!”, which I have yet to get in trouble for doing all day, but try to keep a relatively low profile. So I click off that window. The next window was a SI. “Oh Teacher! Very handsome boy! Little shorts!”. Great. So now I’m not only playing flash games, I’m potentially looking at gay porn (in the eye’s of my coworkers). So I click again. On to drudgereport. “Russian Sex Spy!!!” Doh.

Ah, fuck it.

Maybe I just had enough of it in middle/high school and it’s becoming more clear to me that I’m in the minority. Most people love to chit chat about nothing for 10-15 minutes and then, hey! We’re friends. I loved the minibuses in Laos that were always packed. At least half the people would start out with the lame traveler’s banter and I’d patiently wait it out until the sweet, awkward silence overtook them. I’m a people watcher and that was some good gandering. Could see the discomfort at not being able to trade their “awesome stories” and rectify the imbalance of the overall quiet. They usually didn’t though. That’s when the Ipods came out.

So I will not go to the fucking beach today and sit around listening to verbal diaherria and those goddamn acoustic guitar guys. Heading to art shop for glue and scouring my localities abandoned wood/furniture, looking for chair parts. A chair that I will never, fucking ever make a point of telling everyone within 50 feet about because I’m not special. I’m asocial.

Everything is just so damn annoying here. Probably just me. Could change my name to Morrie and be a Tuesday person, but I’d lose major imaginary street cred.

I was having a minor breakdown last week about being back and decided that I wasn’t drinking enough/hungover enough at work to induce the proper zombie-like state required for mouth shitting out hagwon curriculum. It actually worked pretty well, but I’m getting long in the tooth to be hanging out in bars all the time. Not my cup of Creedence. Much more apt at pubs.

Pubs, to me, differentiate themselves from bars in being tenaciously anti-social. This isn’t strictly true, if you sit AT the bar, you’re inviting all sorts to come and converse. Sort of like chat roulette, but with less “I’m Turks!” No, I prefer the abused varnish, scuffed up chairs and semi-social collectives gathered around to worship the foundation of civilization, ale. Bars have lager, which could be misconstrued for twice used, sans flush, toilet water. I love ale. There’s no ale here. Well maybe in Seoul, but I can’t deal with that much subway/shithop culture.

There are two eternal questions here; What to do and what to eat? Both are pretty ambiguous, in that neither has a real desirable solution. Desirable would be something I wanted to do. Here it’s just killing time. Lot like prison.

I’ve spurned technology in my apartment. Tv’s in the closet, no ‘puter to speak of and I’d buy a cell phone if I had anyone to trade stupid texts with, but to be honest, I don’t. My friends left awhile ago or recently and now I’m trying to sort out what to do without a drinking buddy or few, besides drink alone. Not that exciting thou, usually leads to napping or eggs n toast then napping. Going to give the artsy fartsy a shot ie sketch an hour a day, make some disturbing collages, etc. I inherited all my most recently departed amigo’s tools and I should probably get on fleshing out the chairs I’ve been meaning to build, but that would require a certain amount of dealing with Koreans to buy lumber and I just don’t have it in me anymore. There’s a lot of people like that here, essentially we have no involvement with Koreans other than frequenting their businesses and unwillingly serving as stare-fodder. Actually, I could just steal wood from construction sites (stuff their going to trash anyways) or out of the piles of garbage (mostly particleboard… yuck) or peruse the mountains for fallen branches. Have to wait and see on that one. Inspiration’s hard to come buy here.

Too much internalization.

I’m just gonna get on it, as they say. The only things I’ve ever really enjoyed are creation related. And I gather that when you’re stuck somewhere that culturally makes you want to step in front of buses, the only real option is to make your own culture. I have a little space deemed for occupancy, but there’s no difference between a flat and a studio. Studios just tend to smell more like glue.

And eureka! It has been turned on its head. The hard part is being self disciplined about it. Artists are inherently selfish people I find. Better than musicians thou, insecurity is not becoming. If I ever make it back to grad school I’m going to carry around $100 to pay for every fucking acoustic guitar I smash in public.