paranormal activity: a review from someone who cares

i finally watched the efficiently titled paranormal activity, an $11,000 indie effort that wants to utilize the post-modern first person pov camera technique to tell the tale of a doomed couple and the unearthly presence that won’t let them be. i wanted to love it. i thought i would love it. considering the hype, i expected paranormal activity would at least equal blair witch project. however, this film has got to be one of the most boring and predictable horror movies of the year. how many times can a door creak? how many times can you hear booming foot steps? how many times can someone wake up screaming? overhyped to the point of hysteria and lacking anything remotely redeeming for the seasoned fright fan, paranormal activity is all smoke and one too many mirrors. it’s an accurate reflection of an audience incapable of separating truth from trickery, a waste of time in both concept and execution.

i certainly respect filmmakers who can make a movie for less than $11,000 — kudos to them. but; the more the film amps up the action, the less scary and involving the movie becomes. we´ve already established beyond any shadow of a doubt that there´s a demon, so what´s so frightening about seeing its powdery footprints or its shadow more than an hour into the movie? inevitably the film winds up in generic horror territory with the shrieking and the thrashing and the "oh my gods!".

the movie also raises some nagging questions. exactly how do these two lovebirds keep falling asleep so easily when they know there´s a freaking demon haunting them? why does micah need to keep proving that there´s a demon when he´s already proven it multiple times? (answer: because we have to fill out 90 minutes of screen time.) and most perplexing of all, how did this idiot end up with such a hot girlfriend?

the hand-held style of filmmaking does not bother me. sometimes it creates an atmosphere of tension. but, in paranormal it was an atmosphere of irritation. in order to keep an audience engaged with this realism style of shaky camera angles, you need consistent drama and a building of suspense that results in a climax — this wasn’t the case.

sorry. the emperor is naked. it was just an OK indie horror film with more shaky camerawork. is this really the highest standard we can set? there´s a lot to like here. just not enough.

dev jop's day off

after a stressful rollercoaster ofa week, i took a little day off to let off some steam. but i'm soooo high strung right now the ants in my pants had me seriously restless. so instead of just sitting here i...............


got up in the morning and went online before getting my caffeine fix

asked to borrow someone's pencil. then broke it in half

went into 'christian chat' and typed 'jesus sux!' then made my escape

went to the movies, sat in the third row wearing an extremely tall hat

talked on the phone with the same person i was sending an instant message to

pushed every button on the elevator when it was full. then laughed hysterically

stood silent and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off

called the psychic hotline from my cell phone and asked if they knew what floor i was on

ended my sentences with.....three or more periods.......

tried to hold up a gas station with a squirt gun

told mr officer i couldn't reach my license unless he held my beer

went into 'teenage depression' message boards, and told everybody what a great day i was having

ordered caviar at mcdonald's

ask people outside the door if they know where the local mcdonald's is

demanded to speak with that ronald mcdonald

got banned from mcdonald's as a result

told everyone that i'm related to the president

got fed up using the internet and tested what happens when you put a magnet next to the computer



phew! i think i deserve another miller

she dont put out, let her have hell

To the Girl I met at the bar last night (west)

Reply to: pers-855738396@craigslist.org [?]
Date: 2008-09-26, 3:30AM EDT



Hey tanned, tall blonde, aka future skin cancer victim, it's the 'asshole' (your words) who you spent time with last night.

I have a reason for cumming on your face, taking a dump in your bathroom, and then stealing your alcohol.

First, your vagina smells horrible. Get that checked, seriously, they have solutions for that. I woke up with morning wood, and was toying with the idea of waking you up for some play, but then I vaguely remembered how bad my fingers smelled, and decided to just take care of myself. It's customary for a guy to give a girl breakfast after spending the night, and that was yours. Which leads me to the next thing.

I took that dump on your bathroom floor because I knew it was going to be a huge one, possibly almost record setting, and I didn't want to clog your toilet. Plus, I wasn't sure how freaky you are, and thought you might enjoy a nice, high-fiber log as part of your breakfast, in addition to your protein-filled appetizer.

Lastly, I didn't STEAL all of your alcohol, we DRANK the Patron last night. Hell, you were drinking 3 shots for every 1 I took. You should thank me for not letting you get alcohol poisoning. God damn. I haven't seen a girl drink that much tequila since that time I got crabs in Tijuana. I took your 12 pack of Natty Ice because I felt you were going to abuse it in the future, and wanted to prevent you from ending up in the emergency room with a tube down in your stomach.

Looking back, I think I enjoyed my self a lot more alone, with your unconscious body, than I could have with you being active. I got my rocks off while providing you with breakfast, took a nice healthy dump without clogging your toilet, while leaving you a hearty meal on your bathroom floor. Then I was worried about your little alcohol problem, so I prevented you from having another bad night and possibly a trip to the hospital, while getting some ammo for my next night out on the town.

In the end, your morning definitely could have been a lot worse, and my night could have been a lot better.

you lose, you lose

actually you didn't jess, and that's hilarious



what if others followed suit?







but the biggest loser issssssssssssssss......
lohancumcrackwhore!!!!!!!!!
*applause*



you're so silly

i decided we wasn't gon speak so why we up 3am on the phone????

i would like to say that dealing with an ex is easy. well, NOT. my ex as nice, friendly, and involved as he appears, gives such a false perception to other people.

i am sure he has his own insight and yes there are always two sides to every tale, but this is my blog, let him get his own blog.

dude was beyond bipolar. he's tripolar. i mean this is the only guy i know that can literally have a health power shake in one hand, a crackpipe in the other hand and reading the bible at the same time. he was a mess.

this has been going on for yearsssssssss. i met him in 2000, and little did i know what i was getting myself into. i knew he had inner problems and i always tried my best to help him, love him, care for him, etc. for some reason, i was still in love with that guy i first met and it took a loooong time for me to forget about him, to get over him completely.

and every time i'll try to move on, he'll be there...following me. he's now in atlanta and we haven't seen each other in forever, thank the freaking universe. but even though i've blocked him on myspace and facebook, changed my phone number (well, planning to), my e-mail, he still finds a way to contact me.

before, i'll actually give him the chance of talking, of explaining whatever he needed to explain. it always ended the same: arguing and immense bullshit. he has always tried to ruin my relationships in certain ways as well (emotionally cause he was my first and last boyfriend), and the impact he's had in my life has been tremendous. i've learned so, so much through my experiences with him (both good and bad). so, i'm thankful for that.

but sometimes i wonder if all that pain was worth it. i've forgiven him (kinda), i've tried to reason with him but all goes to shit. i've told him a million times how i feel and he never understands that i want him out of my life forever.

now.........after almost six months of not communicating, here he is again. making another profile and sending me message(s) titled "well hello!," and "please read." i'm so, so fucking tired of him and i wish he just disappeared from the face of the earth.

why? why can't he just leave me alone? why doesn't he just go away and live his own life? i know those answers are probably obvious and already answered, but they still roll around in my head over and over again.

i effin' hate it.

now, i keep telling myself, NEVER AGAIN.

thank you for reading.

out with the old

in with the new

r.i.p hott neighbor hellrooo methylbenzoylecgonine

feeling a bit lackluster, writing-wise but i thought this picture was worth posting:





not much has been happening lately, work is going and busy, and i am just somehow uninspired to rant about bitchy l.a. girls, or washing the floor, or incompetant coworkers, or tomato vespers, or the accidental porn.....sigh.

maybe it is the cold-hot-cold weather but i have not been very motivated, energetic or engaged over the last 2 weeks.

a list of things to run to that will give you a jolt when things are feeling "blah":

exercise, then

5 hour energy, then

ben-gay on your balls,then

babysit 3 kids for five minutes, then

fight your way through sunset, then

streak through the ron hubbard center, then

light hair on fire freebasing cocaine, then

organize abstract house night at the lacma, then

copulate with your computer to completion, then

start typing

notorious: a review from someone who cares

those trailers on youtube may look promising, but don't believe the hype. "notorious," a biopic about the life and death of notorious b.i.g., feels like biggie's wikipedia page reformatted for the big screen. no era of the iconic brooklyn rapper's 24 years goes untouched, making a frustrating dash from the playground to the grave, all in less than two hours.

notorious suffers from biopic-itis, that regrettable tendency to reduce complicated lives to a greatest-hits assemblage of melodramatic highs and agonizing lows. the performances are a mixed bag. naturi naughton captures lil' kim's strange combination of brazen sexuality and unexpected vulnerability, and woolard has expressive, fluid eyes and a melancholy air that belies his mountainous physique and brash charisma. the usually unimpeachable bassett is saddled with the film's hoariest hood-movie clichés in the form of overwrought speeches about the dangers of street life. in spite of a handful of stellar performances and infectious wall-to-wall music that conveys the wit, musicality, and verbal dexterity of b.i.g.'s oeuvre, notorious feels depressingly like a vh1 tv movie.

if this all sounds sketchy and unrevealing, so’s the movie, which seems more interested in drawing a largely sympathetic and superficial portrait in a flashy style than in providing any serious insight. in the process it fails to explain, or even lay out with great precision, what’s happening at various times, and what the import of it was—simply to follow the story, it’s really necessary to study up and bring some background knowledge to the picture with you. a great rapper deserves a great biopic, but b.i.g. fans will have to settle for this merely passable one.


maybe in 70 years, when all those involved in the story are dead and the truth can finally be told, a more incisive, less glorifying film can be made of the notorious b.i.g. with notorious, despite energetic performances from woolard, naughton and mackie and a vibrant soundtrack, all we get is a factory-issue biography, making little allowance for the quirks of the actual life story it's telling.

idle hands spend time at the genitals, and you know how much God hates that

i keep seeing this guy walk'n around.
i dunno, he just keeps turning up.