Olden days New Yorkers were fucking dumb.

I really don’t have anything to say. I mean, anything WORTH saying. I could ramble for hours I’m sure, but really, what’s the point?

Maybe I’ll watch a movie… but it’s 11:30 and I don’t want to be up till 2.

I suppose I could post lots of pictures of naked chicks. That’s pretty much what I do when I don’t have anything worth saying. I just like seeing the content on the page change. Especially when it changes with hotness.

Maybe I’ll post lots of naked chicks, but make the thumbnails really small so that it doesn’t flood the page.

Let’s give it a try.

This chick’s name is Keeley Hazell. I know very little about her other than the fact that she was a Page 3 girl and has quite possible the most beautiful natural breasts on the planet.

She’s got the kind of breasts where if she walked up to me and said “You can play with my boobs for five second, but you have to punch this kitten in the face as hard as you can.” there wouldn’t even be a momentary pause while I thought about whether or not I should punch the kitten. She’d say it and then I would be like “PUNCH!” and that kitten would be clocked.

btw, for those who don’t know: In England (at least where I lived in England) there is a rag called The Sun, which is a popular tabloid newspaper. On page 3 of every issue, there is a topless shot of a model. These women are called “Page 3 girls.”This is a perfect example of the difference in attitude towards nudity in Europe vs the US, where such an amazing thing would never happen.

Man, I never noticed how much screaming there is in this song. I can’t even tell if it’s John or Paul screaming. I’m pretty sure it’s John, though the lyrics are the goofy shit that Paul usually writes.

So I’m on my second listen through of The White Album. So instead of watching a movie for two hours and avoiding staying up till 2, I’ve instead looked at pictures of this naked chick till 1:30. Much more productive.

So there’s this chick named Michelle Trachtenberg. Apparently she was on Buffy or something, but I’ve always known her as Nona on The Adventures of Pete and Pete.

Anyway, so she grew up into an… interesting… looking young woman. I wouldn’t go so far as to call her attractive really, though I guess she is in a weird way. Anyway, the only reason I bring her up is because she dressed up as a hot snow white for Halloween and that’s pretty dope.

I can’t wait till I’m making horror movies. Horror movie shockers are the best!

and last but not least:

Courtney Love. So she’s apparently cleaned up for really reals this time. I’ll believe it when I see it. I still hold out a little bit of hope that she’ll get her shit together and actually do something productive with her life. I do think she’s talented and it sucks ass that she’s so fucked up so much of the time.

Oh yeah, btw, don’t look at this post at work. Unless you work in a titty friendly office.

I’m going to sleep now.

current music: The Beatles-Birthday

So my girl Storm went home. That’s alright. I wish she could have made to the top three. I wish she could have at least made it farther that than fucking under developed fetus looking mother fucker Lukas with his eyes two far apart. You who that mother fucker looks like? He looks like fucking Gollum from the Lord of the Rings movies. Fuck Lukas and fuck his ugly, no talent having piece of shit face. I hate him and I wish he was dead. That cocky bastard sings his own half assed rip off sounds like everything on the radio right now original song AGAIN last night? Nobody wants to hear your retarded “original“ song.

God I fucking hate him.

Yes, I have Storm injustice induced rage.

But she’s better off not winning. I’ve said that before.

BTW, her rendition of Wish You Were Here should have bought her at least another week. That was fucking beautiful. Much better than that Nazi Marty Casey’s lame version last season.

What’s up with that show? Did they only buy the rights to two Pink Floyd songs or what? I’ve heard Wish You Were Here like fifty times over the two seasons of Rock Star. That and Fortune’s version of Money which was… alright. I wanna hear a Pink Floyd song I haven’t heard fifty million times. Do fucking Pigs from Animals or do One of my Turns. That’d rock EVERYONE’S socks. Don’t get me wrong, Wish You Were Here is a great song and all… but it’s a LITTLE over played.

So now I’m gunning for Toby to take the whole thing home.

Dilana needs to do Sonic Reducer to completely redeem herself. She won’t, but she should. I’ve always thought that sound would sound good with a chick singing.

Back to how much I hate Lukas…

One of the many things I hate about Lukas is the fact that he’s Canadian. It’s not that I hate Canadians… it’s just a strike against him that I can exploit when I talk about how much I hate about him. It also means that because I LIVE in Canada I have to hear about this fucktard like he’s fucking John Lennon or something anytime anyone is talking about Rock Star.

FUCK!

Okay, so, as anyone reading my journal for any length of time knows… I have issues with Canada. It’s not just the horrible TV or the fact that Canadians don’t seem to have any concept of the general rules of driving, official or unspoken. It’s not just the fact that I can’t get all of my trashy American fast food or get a goddamned Stouffers French Bread Pizza or real Spaghetti-Os or regular old fashioned pizza pepperoni in the supermarket for that matter. It’s not only the fact that you can’t get a fucking M&M Blizzard at Dairy Queen. The problem is that it’s not home. I’ve been living here for like, eight years or something. That’s a long long fucking time. I’ve been living here for almost a third of my life… but it still doesn’t feel like home. I feel like I don’t have a home and I resent the fuck out of it.

If I were to get hit by a truck this afternoon and I went to the hospital and was only a couple hours away from dead and they asked me where I wanted to be buried… I wouldn’t know what to tell them. It sure as shit wouldn’t be here, but then… where? Sacramento? Fuck that. Fuck Sacramento. I don’t be buried there. Some asshole would probably vandalize my grave. And not in a badass Jim Morrison sort of way. Someone would break my headstone and then spray paint “I eat cock” on it. Southern California? Fuck that place too. Maybe if I lived there, but I don’t. I don’t wanna be shipped down to California just so I can be buried in my homeland where no one would come and visit me and like, put shit on my grave and shit. That’s kind of weak. I don’t wanna be buried up in the mountains where my mom lives, because fuck that place too. I love my family and all, but I don’t wanna be buried fucking Grizzly Flats or Placerville or something when I only lived there for like, three months. Fuck that too.

I mean, ideally I wouldn’t be buried at all. Cemeteries are a stupid ass waste of space. I mean, I get it… I get the whole grieving process for the people who love me and all that, but really… do I need to take up real estate till the end of time? I don’t think so. If I’m gonna do that, I’d rather have like, a building erected to house my body somewhere that’s NOT a cemetery. But I don’t want that. I wanna be cryogenically frozen. Hell yeah. Cause I don’t want to fucking die. I talk a lot of shit about suicide and all of that, but that’s got a lot more to do with ending pain than wanting to die. Ideally, if I could die, I’d want to die and then wake up with everything fucking better. I don’t really want to DIE like… FOREVER. I just want to not have to deal with all of this mental bullshit I’m dealing with, on top of the regular bullshit that everyone deals with. Fucking freeze my ass and wake me up in thirty years when you’ve found a cure for “getting hit by a truck” and then everything will be hunky dory.

But I’m not going to be cryogenically frozen. I’ve accepted that. It’s expensive and like, I don’t think anyone really knows how to go about getting that done. I’d probably end up in someone’s deep freezer somewhere and that’s just not dignified. Joe all balled up and hard and frosty in a freezer. I’d be naked too, which would be embarrassing. Especially since it’s cold a freezer. Anyone who happened to look in at me would be like “Jesus, Joe didn’t have much in the way of cock.” And I’d be dead so I wouldn’t be able to say “IT’S CAUSE IT’S COLD HERE! FUCKER!”

So yeah, I don’t want to be buried here in Canada, but I have no idea where I do want to lay to rest, so I guess I’d leave that up to Sandra, and she’d probably fucking bury me here and I’d spend eternity in heaven bitching constantly about how even in death I’m trapped in fucking Canada.

And yes, I’d be in heaven. I don’t believe in heaven, but I do believe that if heaven DOES exist, I’m fucking going. If there is a heaven, they’ve be up there going “Dude, we HELLA need to get Joe up here. This place fucking SUCKS without Joe.” And I’d come rambling up the stairway and be like “WAZZUP~!!~???” and they’d be like “JOE!!” and I’d be like “BRING ON THE KALUHA AND BITCHES, BEEYOTCH!” and they’d be like “welcome home” and I’d be like “so what’s up with this place?” and they’d be like “up here you can fucking do whatever you want and nobody gives a shit. If you wanna dick around on the internet and fucking watch movies and eat popcorn and read magazine and fucking play PS2 all day, you CAN.” And I’d be like “But I can do that at home.” And they’d say “but can you do that and not get shit from people about it?” and I’d be like “no” and they’d be like “We WANT you to do that up here” and I’d be like “This IS heaven!” and then they’d say “If you wanna go have sex with someone, it’s TOTALLY cool! And they’re into it! And everyone’s into it! And no one’s going to give you shit about it!” and I’ll be like “What about my wife?” and they’ll be like “She’s not here!” and I’ll be like “But I’ll miss her” and they’ll say “Joe, she’ll be here eventually, and guess what!?” and I’ll be like “what?” and they’ll say “She can play Playstation and fuck whoever she wants whenever she wants too!” and I’ll be like “but she won’t want that.” And they’ll say “Then she can like, fucking scrapbook and watch Gilmore Girls or something” and I’ll be like “Righteous. She’ll like that.” And they’ll be like “Look, here comes Jim Morrison and Marilyn Monroe. They’re gonna show you how to party fucking HEAVEN style, for real.” And I’ll be like “Sign my ass UP for this shit.”

Was I talking about something at some point?

Oh yeah, Canada.

So because I don’t feel like this place is home, I resent the shit out of it. I resent it and I hate it. It’s a fucking beautiful country and the people are fucking friendly and they’ve got FREE HEALTH CARE and really, it’s fantastic fucking place to live. But I resent it. I resent because I can’t leave. I can’t just up and leave.

And you’re saying “Why DON’T you just leave if you hate it so much?”

Well here’s why. It cost a fucking LOT of money to get up here. A lot. Sandra and I “dated” for six years or so, long distance. I worked in a fucking movie theater. Sandra was in school. We couldn’t exactly afford to do what we did. But it was love and all that shit so we did it, and I’m glad we did. But we racked up a SHITLOAD of debt getting me up here. Flights and phone bills and immigration all of that bullshit added up REAL quick. I couldn’t work for two years once I got up here. THAT cost a lot of fucking money.

And for some reason my finger just started bleeding for no reason whatsoever. BRB.

Alright, band aid-age applied. This shit hurts like a bastard. I hate mystery blood.

Anyway…

I’d love to just up and move back to the States. I’d love to be able to go down there and say “hey, I’ve got a kick ass job and I can support my wife and live comfortably” but I can’t. I owe a lot of big companies a lot of fucking money.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re getting by. We’re trying to pay shit down and we’re able to do our thing fairly comfortably up here. But we’re certainly not in a position to try and start fresh anywhere. And unless something substantial changes, it’s gonna be a while before we can.

When I came up here I was all like “Yeah, I’ll probably stay here for like, a year and then we’ll move down to the land of the free and the home of the brave.”

SHYEAH! RIGHT!

So that’s why I resent Canada. It’s nothing that Canada has actually DONE to me. It’s got nothing to do with Sandra either. It’s just the position I’m in. I nitpick about little shit like bad driving and bad TV and the lack of access to all of my favorite garbage that I love in the states, but really, I just resent the fuck out of the fact that I’m trapped here. I’m trapped here and I’m paying for it. I spent a fuck load of money building a cell and locking myself in it, and now that I’m here I fucking hate it.

But…

BUT…

Canada isn’t openly and proudly violating my basic rights. They aren’t listening to my phone calls. They aren’t admitting that they’ve got secret CIA torture prisons.

I just heard about this shit. Bush came out and said “Oh yeah, we’ve totally got secret CIA torture prisons.” WHAT THE FUCK?! Ya know, Guantanamo Bay is bad enough. That’s the prison that they publicly had where they are holding (and torturing) people without charging them with anything. I’d hate to think about what’s going on in the “secret” CIA prisons.

What the fuck is wrong with America? Okay, so we’re not the most popular country in the world. Okay, so went to war under false pretenses and killed a whole shit load of people (our own included) for reasons they can’t even explain, much less prove. Okay, so our government is spying on us. Our country is fifty years behind the rest of the civilized world in regards to “family values.” Okay, so we’re fucking religious extremists masquerading as a democracy. Okay, so we’re the most powerful country on earth, and we got there by killing our way to the top. Okay, so we’re SO proud of our civil liberties but we can’t even take care of our own people. Okay, so we spend BILLIONS of dollars destroying another country and killing thousands people when we can’t even take care of our own people.

BUT…

At least we don’t torture people.

OH WAIT!

YES WE FUCKING DO!

Jesus Christ!

Do you remember when they cut that reporter’s head off? And like, people lost their fucking minds. Understandably, mind you. It was a fucked, terribly that happened. That one chick… the soldier chick… who was captured and raped and tortured. What was her name? Lynch. Jessica Lynch. That shit happened and it was like “OMG these people are fucking ANIMALS! They’re backwards evil torturing sons of bitchs!”

Um…

Yeah, we fucking do that. We torture and humiliate and rape “Suspected terrorists.”

Guess what. You bring a goddamn bottle of Gatorade onto a plane and YOU’RE a suspected terrorist. That title is MEANINGLESS. Anyone can be a “suspected terrorist.”

And they’re the fucking monsters and we’re the heroes?!

Dude, something is fucking WRONG here.

Okay, so I’m not going off on the war. We could be here for days talking about that shit and I just don’t have the energy or motivation for it. What I’m talking about is fucking hypocrisy. We act like we’re the moral center of the world and we do a lot of the same fucked up shit that we’re fighting against to other people. We blow up hospitals and civilians and kids. We torture and rape people. We enlist soldiers on suicide missions. That whole fucking war is a suicide mission. We tell people to go and kill and be killed for the glory of our moral high ground. They call it Jihad. We call it Freedom and it’s the same fucking thing.

Jesus…

Okay, so yeah, Canada. I resent having to live here. It’s got a lot more to do with my hang-ups than any real problems with the country itself. They take care of their people here. They give everyone health care. They let treat adults like adults and let them marry who they want. They don’t really care if you wanna sit in your house and smoke pot all day, just so long as you’re not fucking with anyone else while you do it. They don’t go around the world killing people when they don’t have to. They’re over all pretty fucking laid back. Most problems I have with Canada are superficial petty bullshit like driving and entertainment and convenience. When it comes down to serious shit, Canada not that bad. They’ve got retarded politicians up here and a picture in the queen in the airport, which is kind of gay, but whatever. I can get past that.

I still fucking hate Lukas Rossi.

And Nickelback.

And Avril.

And please… do not get me wrong. I love America. I fucking LOVE America. I love living there. If I had my choice, I’d spend the rest of my life in a big house in the hills outside of Los Angeles.

PS:
I found a video of a chick singing Sonic Reducer.

So I watched another episode of Masters of Horror. Again, as much as it pains me to do so, I must thank Mick Garris for having the idea for this show.

The one I watched tonight was called Dance of the Dead. I have a zip file of the entire first season, and I picked this one to burn and watch simply because of the title. I guess I was hoping that it was a George Romero episode. It wasn’t, but that’s okay. It was a Tobe Hooper episode.

Now, I’m not the hugest Tobe Hooper fan. He’s disappointed me more times than he’s impressed me. Sure, Texas Chainsaw Massacre is legendary and one of my favorites, but that was pretty much the extent of his importance in the film industry. Poltergeist was pretty decent, but the rumor is that there was a lot more Spielberg in that film than Tobe. I believe that, if only because it FELT like a Spielberg film, and I’ve yet to see anything else that Tobe Hooper’s done that felt even remotely like Poltergeist.

But this isn’t a “slam Tobe Hooper” post. It’s a “praise Masters of Horror” post.

Here’s the thing about this episode: It wasn’t great. It wasn’t a great short film or a particularly scary episode of a TV show. It was pretty goofy. The directing was amateurish (felt like Tobe Hooper aping Oliver Stone, who was aping Martin Scorsese) and the characters were highly lacking.

But here’s the thing: I love the fact that Tobe had the forum to do it. That’s what’s great about the concept of this show. It’s a place where a film maker can experiment and try things and work out the kind of movie that they can’t (or aren’t willing) to make in the film industry. It’s a free pass to do whatever the hell they want to do.

There are obviously no limitations on content, Takashi Miike’s episode showed that. You can have as much nudity and violence and sex and fucked up situations as you can imagine. That’s a very liberating and downright fun position to be in.

The story of this particular episode is as follows: There has been some kind of major war on American soil. The aftermath is anarchy and chaos. People are still trying to live normal lives, but the disaffected and demented youth have taken over. Murder and rape is rampant and people can’t leave their houses out of fear of violence. It’s essentially a modern version of the world that A Clockwork Orange takes place in. We follow a young innocent girl as she delves into the dark side of the youth movement and hooks up with this dude and his friends as they go to a club called “Club Doom” to watch a kind of snuff show. Apparently, during the aforementioned war, a type of chemical warfare was used that caused the people affected to die, but remain animated in a ridged and zombie like state. In the show at the club, they take people who are already dead and inject them with the same chemical, reanimating them. Then they jab them with cattle prods to make them dance. It’s a pretty fucked up concept.

That’s the gist of the story. There’s more to it, but that’s basically all you need to know before seeing the episode for yourself.

What I loved about watching it was the fact that it was able to be made at all. The episode was based on a short story by Richard Matheson (which I’ve found online. I haven’t read it yet, but here it is, if you’re interested) and adapted for TV by his son. It’s not a story that could have been stretched into an entire film. It was tailor made for a short film.

The fact that this show exists, not only to bring short films like this to the public, but to have them delivered by (as the title implies) by genuine masters of horror, makes me giddy. It warms my heart to imagine someone saying to Tobe Hooper “here’s some money. Go do whatever the fuck you want to do. The only rules are that it has to be scary and it has to be under an hour.” That’s fucking cool. I don’t care that the end result was average. It’s just badass that it even exists at all.

And really, the inclusion of Robert Englund in ANYTHING is enough to put a big grin on my face and my ass in a seat.

I just hope that other film makers can follow Takashi Miike’s footsteps. You’ve got the opportunity, no questions asked, to do whatever sick, twisted, fucked up thing you can imagine. Take advantage of it. I don’t know if Tobe Hooper’s mind is fucked up enough to pull off anything quite on the level of depravity of Miike, but I think it is. He either doesn’t have the chops or the will to do what Miike does.

Because that’s really what it comes down to; the will to do what the other guy won’t, just like Verbal Kent said.

I believe that pretty much anyone who’s into horror movies enough to make a career out of them has got to have a pretty twisted imagination. I know I do. I could come up with the kind of sadistic and fucked up shit that Miike does. I just don’t have the will to put them on paper. I don’t (or won’t) feel right writing those sorts of things down. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of imagining them.

I wrote a vampire script (that’s a lie. I wrote 40 pages of a vampire script and then never finished it) that has a particularly violent opening scene. I’ve always felt that it was TOO violent. Maybe I should tone it down. Maybe I should cut it out entirely.

But it’s nothing compared to what it COULD be. I could write shit that people would want to put me in jail for. I could have had fifteen minutes of the most demented, sadistic, deranged shit imaginable. But I don’t. I don’t because I worry about the marketability of my script. I don’t have the free pass that these lucky bastards have.

Sure, if you’re Takashi Miike and you live in Japan and make movies for a Japanese audience, you can do that sort of thing. But in America there’s a self imposed censorship. Sure, you CAN make a movie about whatever you want, but if it’s something that’s too violent or (GOD FORBID!) too sexual, the all mighty MPAA will deem your film dirty and inappropriate for the fragile American psyche. They’ll call it “NC17” or “X” rated. Then movie theaters won’t play it. Al and Tipper Gore will call it smut and tell people to boycott your movie. Your movie won’t be seen in the theater, and will be relegated to home video with little to no marketing.

Either that, or you will be forced to cut out “offensive” material and resubmit a cleaned up and sanitized version of your work. You have to get comfortable with the fact that, unless you want your film to be a financial failure, you will have to compromise on content.

And, as you know, films that are financial failures ruin careers.

So, when I’m writing a script, I have to keep that in mind. So I don’t go all out on my violent opening to my vampire movie. I push it as far as I think I can get away with and then curb it. Just assume avoid that whole process from the beginning.

It sucks, but it’s the way things are.

BUT this format, the Pay Cable TV format, provides a loophole in that whole mess. On pay cable, you can have Ralphie getting dismembered on camera (but not before getting fucked in the ass with a dildo) on The Sopranos. You can have the girls on Sex in the City freely talking about waxing their pussies and giving head.

And you can have Takashi Miike doing the same thing he does in Japan, on American TV. There are no boundaries on pay cable. It’s a beautiful thing.

My point in all of this is that I hope that the people making this show, Masters of Horror, will take advantage of this freedom. I really do. Sure, they don’t have the budget, but all of the best horror films come from a constricted budget.

Now, I’m going to get a couple more episodes burning and then go to sleep, because it’s three in the morning and I’m friggin tired.

I’m going to go have a nap, cause I’m going to see The Omen tonight at 10, and I’m wicked tired.

But before I go, I’ve got a question.

I know pretty much nothing about Jamaica. I know that like, there’s a lot of black people there and they have like, dreadlocks and those goofy rasta hats that make them look like Super Mario Bros characters. Oh, and that they smoke lots of weed cause, like, god tells them too or something.

That’s about it.

So I’m listening to this song… and don’t get me wrong, it’s a fantastic song… but the words confuse me. More specifically, the bad english.

Like, okay, check it

“Oh pirates yes they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pits”

What?!

They took “I“?

Don’t they speak english in Jamaica?

Oh mail man bring I mail
From de mail trucks in de sky
He bring I new magazine
And bills dat maka I cry!

seriously dude. I know you’re stoned. I’ve seen the pictures. But come on man! Get it together! You’re being recorded here

PS
I’m WICKED helpful with my mad directional skillz

I’ve been everywhere, man! I crossed the deserts bare, man, breathed the mountain air!