Things To Do Before I Become Senile
1 Comments Published by Elentine on Sunday, October 14, 2007 at 10:17 PM.
- Go to the top of Larch Mountain
- Spit off the top of the Eiffel Tower (done)
- Scream into a canyon
- Go on a road trip alone or with a friend
- Learn conversational Arabic
- Have a major revelation (done, but open for more)
- Lose 20 lbs
- Scream myself hoarse (done)
- See New England in the fall
- Get a level 70 on WoW
I'll think of more later, and many of these are just passing fancies, I'm sure, except number one. That one is what made me write the rest of the list in the first place. It's been on my To-Do list since elemetary school, and it's never, ever going away until it's complete. Number four is a pretty major one, too, but Larch Mountain comes first.
One post a month.... wow. In my defense, I really have nothing much to say. I've complained about pretty much everything.
Except hippies.
I hate hate hippies.
It's not a rational hatred. It's not like they shot my cat, or, rather, stole my cat and released it into the wild. (PETA, Hippies, what's the difference?) I just don't like hippies. They're dirty and smelly and the whole "yay peace" and eco-aware thing annoys me. Let me also state that my definition of a hippy is anyone who differs widely from the norm and shuns the mainstream like it's a gas-guzzling SUV. People who stop liking a band if it becomes too popular. People who wear hemp. People who watch only indie movies (of which I will rant about later in this post). People who cannot figure out how to wash their hair. Maybe a better term would be Indie...people (not Indians; there's already two of them, and it's confusing enough). Like I said, it's not a rational hatred.
Indie music: people who can't sing who choose to make their career in the music business. Bloody hell, if you're only going to talk for half the song, and then sing with a nasally voice, just go write a damn book.
Indie movies: Angst. Angst angst angst angst. Boy has angst, boy learns life lesson, boy has less angst. The end. Throw in a few details, and you've got the synopsis for nearly every single indie movie ever made. They're all just so... talky. It's boring. Guess what I get to do in my real life? Talk! You know what movies are for? Entertainment! Now, why would I be entertained by something I do everyday? You know what I don't get to do? Explode things, watch gigantic battles versus the forces of good and evil, see giant robots beat the ever loving shit out of each other, or watch a middle-aged man try to get laid in a very comedic way. Now those could make a movie (not one, though, of course, although giant robot battles set as a backdrop to the story of a 40 year old guy trying to get laid would be... different).
Go ahead and argue. Go ahead and say I'm being narrow-minded and arrogant (if that's even the right word). I know I am. I'm already fully aware I'm being stupid and that my arguements have very little justifications. Like I already said twice, this is a totally irrational hatred. Go ahead and dispute it, though. Maybe I can be saved.
Except hippies.
I hate hate hippies.
It's not a rational hatred. It's not like they shot my cat, or, rather, stole my cat and released it into the wild. (PETA, Hippies, what's the difference?) I just don't like hippies. They're dirty and smelly and the whole "yay peace" and eco-aware thing annoys me. Let me also state that my definition of a hippy is anyone who differs widely from the norm and shuns the mainstream like it's a gas-guzzling SUV. People who stop liking a band if it becomes too popular. People who wear hemp. People who watch only indie movies (of which I will rant about later in this post). People who cannot figure out how to wash their hair. Maybe a better term would be Indie...people (not Indians; there's already two of them, and it's confusing enough). Like I said, it's not a rational hatred.
Indie music: people who can't sing who choose to make their career in the music business. Bloody hell, if you're only going to talk for half the song, and then sing with a nasally voice, just go write a damn book.
Indie movies: Angst. Angst angst angst angst. Boy has angst, boy learns life lesson, boy has less angst. The end. Throw in a few details, and you've got the synopsis for nearly every single indie movie ever made. They're all just so... talky. It's boring. Guess what I get to do in my real life? Talk! You know what movies are for? Entertainment! Now, why would I be entertained by something I do everyday? You know what I don't get to do? Explode things, watch gigantic battles versus the forces of good and evil, see giant robots beat the ever loving shit out of each other, or watch a middle-aged man try to get laid in a very comedic way. Now those could make a movie (not one, though, of course, although giant robot battles set as a backdrop to the story of a 40 year old guy trying to get laid would be... different).
Go ahead and argue. Go ahead and say I'm being narrow-minded and arrogant (if that's even the right word). I know I am. I'm already fully aware I'm being stupid and that my arguements have very little justifications. Like I already said twice, this is a totally irrational hatred. Go ahead and dispute it, though. Maybe I can be saved.
