By you, I mean "me" meaning I (me/Jay) suck the big one. |
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Sorry.
That was totally a lie. This isn't the best thing I've ever written. At least I hope it isn't.
I feel a bit terrible for fooling you, but we can't go back now.
Honestly, I'm in a pickle. I should never have titled my article before I started to write it. Now I don't feel like I can live up to the bill, so I can't even write a bloody story at all.
I'm...a...failure.
I should re-title this, "A Stupid Piece of Crap Attempt to Curry Sympathy Because I am Nothing More Than a Starving Nearly Over-the-Hill Loser on a Broken Computer Who Has No Hope of Ever Actually Writing Anything of Value At All in This Hell of a World."
Dammit.
I just can't write a story this week. My thoughts are too random. Literally, right now (Monday, 2/18/08, 2:29 pm), I'm sitting at my iBook, an ancient laptop with missing CAPS LOCK, PERIOD, and RIGHT SHIFT keys, trying to rope in a singular thought that could mold over like a fungus into something that's even half-worthy of your eyes. It's a folly. I'm sunk. I've got nothing but scraps, which really PISSES ME OFF like you can't believe.
Sadly, in lieu of an actual piece, here's some stuff to hold under the dinner table for your dog to nibble on:
-How does Edward Scissorhands wipe his ass? I mean really? What in the hell is he going to do back there? Seriously. One false move...castrationville.
-While I'm on the subject of Tim Burton films...For those who do not know, PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE is like one of my favorite all-time movies. It's a 
Anorexia? That's the word of the day! AAAAAAAAAHHHH! |
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brilliant thing to behold. We all know this. But I have some questions for Mr. Herman, as he weaves his magic red bow tie for a 2009 sequel.
First, how the hell is he getting the rent? There's never talk of any type of employment, yet he lives down the street from the friggin' Buxtons, who have bathtubs larger than some apartments I've lived in. What the hell does P.W. do for cash? Is he a trust fund baby? Is he on welfare? Where did he grow the cabbage to put together that wonderbike of his?
Here's another thing I'd like to get to the bottom of: Is this guy anorexic or what? He obviously spends the better part of his evenings setting up this elaborate breakfast-making extravaganza, then, after all the fanfare and hoopla, all he can stomach is a crunch of Mr. T cereal (which is even good stale, if you can remember).
But the thing that turns my stomach the most is his avoidance of Dottie, the bike shop hottie. That girl is all aflutter over the 98-pound weakling of a boy-man, yet he disses her right and left as if she was Molly Ringwald's Jon "Duckie" Cryer. You were so in with her, Pee-Wee, it was a sure thing.
Still, I can't fault the film that spawned my favorite film line of all time, "Exhibit Q...!" or Frances and his father in matching jumpsuits that would not be exploited again with such an effect until one of the Wilson brothers (the one with the hockey nose) pimped a yellow one in BOTTLE ROCKET.
-I keep trying to think of a way to bring JAWS back to the big screen. Now, 
I need a f@#ing job! I've been living on krill and boots for near 20 years! |
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with the passing of one of it's stars (Roy Scheider), I've got to get this title back on the minds of those who give the green lights. See, when I was four-years-old, my older brother was supposed to take me to see BAMBI, but he took me to see JAWS instead. I never learned how to swim for some reason. This film stayed with me. I wouldn't even take a bath until like six years ago. But I don't blame the shark. According to it, we taste like chicken. The fear that JAWS instilled in me imprinted an emotion that lasted in me longer than almost any other film brand. And I want it back! I think we need to see a VS. movie here, like JAWS VS. FLIPPER, or JAWS VS. SLING BLADE KARL.
-Speaking of films starring Billy Bob Thornton, can you think of a bigger movie dickhead than Doyle Hargraves? He's even worse than Chet from WEIRD SCIENCE. Speaking of Chet, did you know that Chet grew up and became a Mormon and married three women, one of whom is Chloe Sevigny? Look it up. And speaking of Chloe Sevigny, is anyone going to bust out and bitch slap us with some reality like Larry Clark did with KIDS over a decade ago? No, Quentin, I mean street REALITY, not ultra-cool-post-apocolyptic-guns-that-never-run-out-of-bullets reality.
-Wait! JAWS MEETS KING KONG! Rosie O'Donnell can play both roles!
-I totally hope that the new INDIANA JONES film starts with Dr. Jones fighting with a clerk at the social security office, or getting a prostate exam, or a colostomy bag changing. Or will he have this young trophy wife 
Indy! Indy! Don't send back the soup! It's a trap! |
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and a bunch of Indiana Joneslings running around getting trapped in toy ancient underground cells with collapsable spiked ceilings that are covered in mutant arthropods? Or will he be in divorce court for getting out of hand with his whip? When the hell does May get here, anyway? Is there a line I can stand in right now?
-Who would win in a fight between BRAVEHEART and GLADIATOR? Who would win in a fight between Spears and Lohan? What if there was a tag-team fight: Braveheart and Spears vs. Gladiator and Lohan? Hmm. Lohan sounds like Yohan. Yohan was a human character from one of my favorite cartoons of childhood, THE SMURFS. Why was no film ever made about the freaking Smurfs? I do remember the SNL skit: "Smurf me, Papa Smurf! Smurf me up my smurfing smurfhole! I want you to smurf all over my smurfs!"
-Yohan used to roll with a dude named Pee-Wee. Wait, Pee-Wee...Pee-Wee? That reminds me of Pee-Wee Herman! You know, I've had some unanswered questions about that movie that have been pissing me off since--what? I did. Oh, sorry.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, Smurfs.
-What about THE SMURFS: THE MOVIE? Oh man! Oh man oh man! This gives me an idea for something to write about! It will have to wait until next time, though, since the water for my mac n' cheez is boiling.
Oh, but wait. I just had another fantastic idea: JAWS KLAUS! Ho-Ho-Holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!
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| Space for Rant |
Every other Tuesday
I'm pissed off because you're NOT pissed off. That pisses me off. What else pisses me off? Piss off! Or read this...
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| Jay Ashkinos |
I am an undousable spark; I swear at people in Olde English; I am a phone number on the bathroom wall; I'm shorter than you, but I can kick your ass; I cry at beauty as fervently as I do with sorrow; I have a piece of paper that says I'm smart, yet I lock my keys in my car twice a year. Go figure.
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