
For lack of a better term, I’m a creature of habit. I have a morning routine. I brush my teeth and groom myself in the same order every day. I drink my coffee the same way. And I like to park in the same place everyday.
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I just love it when the hipster douches behind the registers at Fellini’s think that they’re doing me such a service, taking my order with typical condescending sneers, and no response to my genuine “how are yous?“ Life is so hard when skinny jeans are choking your nuts, and being unable/so anti-establishment that your beard grows as rampantly as Matisyahu, I guess.
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I knew that I was going to see this movie when I first saw the preview, and learned about the basic premise. Not just for the simple fact that it looked like it was going to be a funny flick, but that dorks like me would be able to somewhat relate to the premise, and if there’s one thing that makes a story enjoyable is some degree of realism. She’s Out of My League was everything I had hoped for, and I can say without any hesitation that I loved it. It’s not going to be winning any Oscars any time soon, but fuck that- I had a smile on my face all the way to the ending credits.
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It’s like now I have an outlet to describe wacky dreams I have, which in itself is a little odd, since I thought I had the tendency to forget my dreams upon waking up.
But after asserting my dominance over RE5: Desperate Escape some more, last night, I had a bizarre dream. Now the details have gotten a little blurry since waking up, having my cereal, and making my coffee, while I was debating on whether or not to potentially bore others with this dreamstate drivel, but I vividly remember gorgeous night skies, and attempting to take pictures with them on my point-and-shoot camera, and seeing them actually come out beautifully, but then it got weirder when I went to a friend’s house when it was warm and nice outside, and when I was about to leave, it was beginning to snow outside. For some reason, I washed my hair with a garden hose before coming back inside, where I ran into a house-sitting Wayne Newton, who was angrily asking who I was, and what I was doing there. Once we were all hunky-dory friends, apparently I woke up a red cobra when I picked up the hose. Wayne Newton nonchalantly explained that yeah, they were around here, and began agitating it with a car’s antenna. And then the cobra lunged at me, and that’s when I woke up to one of those intense, startled body jerks, and here I sit now.

Just a few days ago, I watched The Crazies. And compared to Shutter Island and Alice in Wonderland, I liked this movie the best. Sometimes, I just like simple, and that’s exactly what The Crazies was – simple. Not a blockbuster, or something with a crazy and thought-provoking plot. The previews, the plot, and the execution, there was hardly anything to think about. Simple, survival, horror.
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