Jolt Country

The hour and a half I just spent watching "A Guy Thing," a film by Chris Koch, were ninety of the most wretchedly depressed minutes I have ever experienced in my life. Allow me to elucidate slightly on that.

The movie itself is only tangentially responsible for the sheer lazy susan of undesireable emotions that I've spat up like a baby first trying solids this evening. It's terrible, of course: a sick waste of the talent, charm and personalities of the three main cast members (Jason Lee, Julia Stiles and Selma Blair). The thing is a string of contrived and awkward scenes with non-descript dialogue, mediocre framing, laughable foreshadowing and minor characters with traits straight from a freshman scripting class.

The truly terrible thing is that, because of the cast (and only because of the cast), I still found myself sitting upon an uncomfortable living room chair (a chair with with no charm and memory) trying to figure out what I'd be doing in the protagonist's stead if I were in his place rather than out here, in the middle of nowhere. And I hate myself for it. Movies, even completely crappy ones like this thing, have still become some sort of escapism for me, regardless of how little I actively (consciously, anyway) desire my life to be that way.

Each scene was another dagger to my heart! What a way to spend one's evening -- thrown into a souless world for a little while with a couple girls who make the cute little faces on my TV that girls used to make all the real time in true, physical space.

I'm not exactly sure when it happened, but at some point I became the old hermit recluse that, if I had a lawn, would exist solely for the purpose of telling the goddamn neighborhood kids to get off it. It didn't use to be this way at all, even: there was a time, only a few years back where it was all different. I mean, I used to attend parties where the law was called, narmean? It used to be that I thought I could get the women I fancied, I could get the women I fancied, and I did get the women I fancied. At some point things changed about. I thought I could get the women I was attracted to, I couldn't get them, and I didn't get them. Watching this thing, I realize that I have now entered into some sort of living hell where not only can't I, and not only don't I... but I know longer even think I can. Otherwise, hell, I wouldn't be spending my goddamn time thinking up a battle plan so that Banky Edwards can get Zoe back.

So in that, "A Guy Thing" is rather in a class by itself in terms of DVDs that I have experienced. How many movies can you see where every single miserable detail in your own life becomes clearer and brought to the forefront? How many flicks make you feel entirely worse about the simple act of getting up in the morning? How many pieces of fine, quality cinema am I likely to encounter at the Blockbuster across the street that are the equivalent of downing a big red bottle of Safeway Brand "Safeway" Discount Coma Pills?

Not many. Jesus, at least I hope not many.

I've become a fucking housewife for Christ's sake. And it completely snuck up on me, to boot. Becoming the guy who gets actual, palpatable joy when Ms Stiles raises her eyebrows is usually cause for a mercy slaying. I've somehow inherted the life of a an ex-professional athlete who yearns mightily for the old glory days, with the exception that I didn't get any of those fat paychecks to make the days pass by in a bit of a lighter fog.

The worst part is, I have not simply spent the last half-hour feeling sorry for myself. I did some actual research on this and the choices I made. I know exactly what I've been spending my time doing that turned me into a real-world social leper. Things like this, this, this and this. And at one time, have no illusions, I thought it would be enough. It couldn't be so bad, right? Getting a little place by the side of a mountain, enduring the sun in the summer, loving the cold in the winter, making runs to the store in the blizzards to go get, what, eggs and milk and cream and shit. The only thing is, I didn't account for what happens if it doesn't end up being enough. I didn't think of the alternatives, or give myself a plan B. This, I confess, is probably because I had no idea how much I'd hate myself living in a reality where that entire section of Who I Was with women got wholly replaced with a freaking Wink at Selma.

Jesus.

And at one point in my life, I would have said that it would have all been good, that the effort and the work would have justified the nights where I slowly begin talking to myself and attempting to keep company with myself that way. Because I show up towards the top of things here or got the appreciation of my peers here. But when it comes right down to it, while I am eternally grateful for such things, when it's all you've got to base your life on... it can be a bit distressing when you really take stock and inventory. I honestly wish I could say that, much like Queen in their song "Was It All Worth It?" that it, in fact, was all worth it.

(Course, the fact that I feel that I could have put together one hell of a better script with those three from this movie than what they had to deal with doesn't make the yellow stare of the sun easier to wake to, either. )

"A Guy Thing" is probably the most disappointing, if not outright worst movie I have ever seen in my life. That being said, maybe it's the one that finally slaps enough sense in me to make some sweeping changes in my life that I have been putting off for far, far, far too long.

Final Rating: 0 out of ***** or ***** out of ***** depending on whether or not I'm writing messages like this in three months or not, I guess.

Should I turn on my webcam?

Of course, I'm hoping that your fall from grace isn't completely due to IF games for selfish reasons, as I have a lot further to go in dedication towards IF and I can't imagine myself becoming even more pathetic.

Maybe on some level, you just grew tired of playing 'the game' the way one has to play it to 'win.' I know nothing about these things, of course, though, so just imagine I'm giving you a hearty 'damn straight, with ya man' toast when I have my last visit for a while to my favorite bar across the street tomorrow.

Vitriola wrote:Should I turn on my webcam?

Let me take a rain check there, I currently have my blinds off my bedroom window to get them properly spring cleaned IF YOU'RE DIGGING MY DITCH HERE.

Roody_Yogurt wrote:Maybe on some level, you just grew tired of playing 'the game' the way one has to play it to 'win.' I know nothing about these things, of course, though, so just imagine I'm giving you a hearty 'damn straight, with ya man' toast when I have my last visit for a while to my favorite bar across the street tomorrow.

Oh, that -- apparently some bitch hacked my account tonight and between wiping the streaks of his mascara away with his dainty girl's fingers, started getting all weepy and teary eyed because a bunch of chicks that spent more time in the makeup chair than the guy who played Jabba the Freaking Hut aren't around to make kissy noises at him. The thing I am currently working on will either be the best text-based survival horror game of all time, or I'll put out a series of comic strips depicting the Lizard sodomizing Captain Kirk before putting out another game as punishment. YOU'RE LISTENING TO LARRY KING LIVE, MILWUAKEE, REACTION!!!!

Well, if that game has even more shining moments than the one that I'm already aware of, I think it's very likely that it'll be one of the best stories ever told in IF.

Watching this thing, I realize that I have now entered into some sort of living hell where not only can't I, and not only don't I... but I know longer even think I can.

When people say this, It makes me realize that that's what everyone thinks. I think this myself all the time. Only people with extremely big ego's who think they are the be all and end all in society wouldn't think this. Those type of people you don't want anyway because they constantly want you to kiss their ass, and not in the plesant way.

How many movies can you see where every single miserable detail in your own life becomes clearer and brought to the forefront?

A lot of romantic comedies do that now. These unrealistic events happen and you're expected to eat it up and say isn't that cute. The truth is though that they tend to only put your life in prospective. Look what these people are doing and look at yourself. It mostly makes people envious

It's not good analyzing your life to movie standards anyway. I love the movie Amelie. This movie is how I feel my life is going except that I don't have the cute looking guy after me. In real life things like this don't happen.

I like to watch the last scene in Amelie over and over again. I don't know why. It always makes me sad and I want to cry. I think it's supposed to be the happiest scene in the movie. Amelie gets what she wants and it always makes me sad. Go figure.

Vitriola wrote:Should I turn on my webcam?

Yes.

Bruce

This is directed to the mewling, whining, pathetic fuck who hacked into Jonsey's account and wrote that first message.

Hey, "fucK" - what has Julia Stiles been in that's been any good? I'm being serious - my recollection is that she is what we movie fans refer to as a "hot bitch", but I can't think of much of anything that she's been in, and especially, any "hot scenes." For example, I can think of Kirsten Dunst as the chick from "Drop Dead Gorgeous" (pretty damn funny movie) who has her hottest scene in Spiderman - you know the one, in the rain where she's got nipples like daggers. Mmm, mmm, mmm.

Jonsey, perhaps the solution is a webcam of your own. Then, you can get fanmail from those more pathetic than you (and there are always people more pathetic than any of us) and you can feel better knowing that you are with others, sort of, and you're having some sort of cyber-communal party-type thing.

Oh well, at least you're planning on returning to civilization next year. As dull as my life is, I do get to see the "old friends" regularly - hell, I'm going out with Cleo tomorrow night. And, I even saw your own father yesterday.

The depressing thing is, by the time you get here, virtually everyone will be in some phase of producing offspring. Boop's planning on another, Loafergirl's anxious to reproduce, and even Mrs W has informed me in no uncertain terms that she will be having a kid (and I have to help make it!) by summer 2005, so will be working on making the ground fertile by next summer. Sigh. But I swear that I will not be one of those people who is incapable of talking about anything but their baby.

But I swear that I will not be one of those people who is incapable of talking about anything but their baby.

Yeah right Jeff. You were posting everything about your new dog on your board and you don't even like it. I heard more about that dog going to the bathroom than I ever wanted to know. I can't imagine when you have kids. You'll be the most annoying father in the world.

Hey, "fucK" - what has Julia Stiles been in that's been any good?

Maybe you wouldn't like the movies she's done but Save The Last Dance did pretty well. She was a ballerina. That movie was alright I guess. I wouldn't recommend any of her other movies though.

And, I even saw your own father yesterday.

Only because I invited you. I wanted you to see the car. You didn't even want to go. I LIKE THE CAR, by the way. It's so pretty. I am going to be riding in style. I am going to pick it up tonight. Fun Fun fun.

Jethro Q. Walrustitty wrote:Hey, "fucK" - what has Julia Stiles been in that's been any good?

I don't think she's been in a good movie. I guess it depends on whether or not you think "10 Things I Hate About You" was good or not. I didn't like it in particular, but I was hardly the target audience.

She did two movies where there was OMG SHOCK because she was dating a black guy, annnnnnd.... Jesus, I can't think of anything else and I don't want evidence that I looked her up on IMDB.com to be there for the IT guys to find.

I'm being serious - my recollection is that she is what we movie fans refer to as a "hot bitch", but I can't think of much of anything that she's been in, and especially, any "hot scenes."

She just looks nice. That's all. I don't think you'll find anyone who would put up much of an argument that she has made an even partially-important movie.

Jonsey, perhaps the solution is a webcam of your own. Then, you can get fanmail from those more pathetic than you (and there are always people more pathetic than any of us) and you can feel better knowing that you are with others, sort of, and you're having some sort of cyber-communal party-type thing.

Er...

That "solution" is what the cells, fluids and sugars that make up the greater "Ice Cream Jonsey" body and persona like to refer to as our own personal "Final Solution."

Oh well, at least you're planning on returning to civilization next year.

Maybe. Let me see how it is to work for, er, "the new company." I am hearing nothing but positive things so far. Maybe they are a company like that one that was in the movie that Tom Cruise and the brunette from Basic Instinct was in -- can't recall the exact name, the Firm or something. So, perhaps the company will go out of their way to find that special someone who lives in Boulder County for me, as I am obviously not up to the task. Later on, they will go and exchange her birth control pills for sugar ones in an attempt to force us to reproduce so that they can use the baby as a bargaining tool against us, like in that flick. Of course, they can try that, but then again reasons why that wouldn't be particularly effective were detailed in this base earlier by you, so ha-ha new evil company with the generous benefits plan.

Wait, what?

As dull as my life is, I do get to see the "old friends" regularly - hell, I'm going out with Cleo tomorrow night. And, I even saw your own father yesterday.

Tell Clorinda I said, "Hello." Or better yet, tell her that "Hollywood says, 'Meeeee-ow!', baby, meee-ow! Lookin' good, CB!" No, maybe just "hello."

But I swear that I will not be one of those people who is incapable of talking about anything but their baby.

You won't be able to help it. Everyone who has kids becomes instantly a hundred times more annoying. Worse, because having children is one of those decisions that you can't exactly back out of, they get indignant at such a realization and then try to hit their broodless friends up with some kind of holier-than-thou vibe because, hey, they had a CHILD, and you can't possibly be mature enough to understand how precious that is and this is actually, funnily enough, the first child that mankind has ever delivered into the world and therefore it's the most special/beautiful/intelligent/creative one and, oh by the way, it's incredibly fast and strong and jumps well and throws 94 mph heaters from a regulation mound. And did I mention that it's only two months old but it can spell Russian vocabulary words and can read hieroglyphics?

These are the days to hold on to, Walrustitty. But you won't, although you'll want to. Once junior makes the mad dash over the barbed wire of its umbillical jailcell, it's all over for you. You'll start to cry at long distance commercials and own Barney DVDs. "Finding Nemo" will no longer be code for waking up with morning wood, but a disc that your offspring will demand for Christmas.

A kid in 2005? Dude, press for getting another dog.

Violet wrote:Only because I invited you. I wanted you to see the car. You didn't even want to go. I LIKE THE CAR, by the way. It's so pretty. I am going to be riding in style. I am going to pick it up tonight. Fun Fun fun.

Excellent, I am glad that you find it favorable. Hopefully the process was, compared to other methods, of considerably less stress.

>>Hey, "fucK" - what has Julia Stiles been in that's been any good? I'm being serious - my recollection is that she is what we movie fans refer to as a "hot bitch", but I can't think of much of anything that she's been in, and especially, any "hot scenes." <<

That drunken dance scene in '10 Things I Hate About You' had me, well, let's just say that I had to brush the popcorn and candy wrappers from the floor off my clothes after the movie ended. WHEW.

Violet wrote:

But I swear that I will not be one of those people who is incapable of talking about anything but their baby.

Yeah right Jeff. You were posting everything about your new dog on your board and you don't even like it. I heard more about that dog going to the bathroom than I ever wanted to know. I can't imagine when you have kids. You'll be the most annoying father in the world.

??? I challenge your statement. Where have I said anything about the dog relieving himself?

Only because I invited you. I wanted you to see the car. You didn't even want to go. I LIKE THE CAR, by the way. It's so pretty. I am going to be riding in style. I am going to pick it up tonight. Fun Fun fun.

First off, I never said that I didn't want to go. I agreed to go with you right off the bat.

It's when you informed me that I'd need to be in the northeast corner of Upstate Nowhere, NY, did I become hesitant. That means bolting out of work half an hour early, in a week where I haven't exactly been the first one in the building in the morning, if you catch my drift.

Regardless, I went, didn't I? And did I complain? No. Am I complaining now? No. I don't mind, it's just that the timing was a little tricky.

FWIW, I think the car looks very nice and you should have a lot of fun with it.

Ice Cream Jonsey wrote:That "solution" is what the cells, fluids and sugars that make up the greater "Ice Cream Jonsey" body and persona like to refer to as our own personal "Final Solution."

"That's your solution, and I wish you were in it." - G. Marx

You won't be able to help it. Everyone who has kids becomes instantly a hundred times more annoying.

In that case, I will be utterly insufferable.

However, I don't buy it. I think my distaste for such things is strong enough to keep me from being one of those folks who carries baby pictures in their wallet, and makes not only their background, but their "slideshow" screensaver baby pictures, and proudly refers to the little runt all day and all night.

These are the days to hold on to, Walrustitty. But you won't, although you'll want to.

??? Dude, I'm about to turn 32. I'll be nearly 34 by the time the wife pops out a little parasite, assuming her schedule is followed. (Though, the idea of actually trying to make a baby as a result of boinking is a bit creepy.) I'd say that's pretty good, as lots of folks don't make it nearly this age without having an offspring.

A kid in 2005? Dude, press for getting another dog.

Supposedly, the dog would give me another year or two of kid-free existance. Oh well...

Actually, I could probably get her to move it back a year if I really pushed. But geez, I am getting a bit codger-y, and it would be nice to have the kids out of the house while I'm still able to move without the assistance of a walker. As it is, they'll probably still be at home by the time I'll need to get one of those pill boxes with seperate containers for all the different pills you need to take each day.

Well, I read most of that ... left for a job interview and came back to read the rest.

Basically I can only respond one way. Right now I am not physically engaging socially with people I like and I probably will not be tomorrow. I more likely than not am going to sit in my room and play Baldur's Gate 2 and watch the Toon Disney Channel. Soon enough some stupid and disgustingly bop thought of holding some girl in my arms will pop into my head. and I'll entertain the notion for awhile but after awhile it gets boring so I stop. I will not chase the honeys today. I will not do it tomorrow. I'm sitting here with a new keyboard with notations for what CTRL+N does and a special lock key to turn off the stupid functions they assigned to my F keys ... like mail and shit.

Right now, I am me. Some day I may not be me. Until that time I will refuse and fornicate the normal social structure of this world to keep myself. I won't hold hands and skip through meadows, I won't par-tay with my budzerz, and I won't let go of what I am. I'll fight until some stupid chemical or receptor fires in this meat sack I inhabit and some other incarnation who wants to go out and snort cocaine takes over.

Right now I am not what I was as a child and right now I am not what I will be as an adult or old man. I will make any changed self that emerges wonder sadly and with seething rage: "Why the fuck didn't I go out more as a kid?". In this moment I am just what I want to be. I will rend this very world in two if necessary to hold on greedily to the chemicals, receptors, and life experiences that made me the douchebag I am today.

RobB Stop the madness.
What does RobB want? Figure that out.
Don't judge yourself by the movie formula of what you should be and what you should want.
What does RObB want?
Now put yourself there. Get out and do the museum if that is your thing, volleyball? get on a team. What have you drawn lately? Art Classes,

BASICALLY GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THAT HOUSE BY DOING SOMETHING YOU LIKE OR WANT TO TRY.

Who fucking cares what others think, enjoy that cash you are making and do something important to YOU!!!

When I have a place I own I am going to set up a giant litter box for myself. That would really make me happy. Oh, and hire someone to clean it. It might get old quick ... not to mention the fucking plumbers union would kill me so it didn't catch on.

RobBb, I think you should blow off work get some GHB and date rape some girls ... but that just seems to me what you need. You could always get crack and find a crack whore.

Jethro Q. Walrustitty wrote:it would be nice to have the kids

Heh heh heh, he said "kids"
Damn, that was a quick crash-n-burn, Titty.

I can handle kids, I think. I can't handle babies.

Goddamnit, Mr. Science Man, get to work on that! Can't we get some system together where I bang my wife, wait a day (OK, maybe a week - but no longer - we've got lives, after all), and suddenly she'll squeeze out an intelligent, toilet-trained, talking, respectful of his/her elders kid? Say, 5 or 6 years old, at least?

And don't give me that bullshit about the kid not fitting. Wah wah wah. Make the little bastard out of expanding foam, or whipped cream, or fucking aerosol cheese for all I care - it'll fit, it'll fit!