Tuesday, August 30, 2005

E-mail Mishap

On my computer, to add to the convenience of the user, I have auto-completion on e-mail addresses. So say I send e-mails to Melody [my girlfriend] quite often, all I have to type is "Mel" and it automatically fills in her e-mail address, really convenient actually.

That is until you meet a girl named Melissa in your Operations Management class and have her in your group project. Entering in her e-mail address into your address book will enter her into the e-mail when you type "Mel" instead of your girlfriend.

So Melody is having a particularly poor day by being late for class, struggling with jobs and what not so I send her a sympathetic e-mail expressing terms of endearment and what not to make her feel better [yes, I'm a good boyfriend]. Unfortunately for me, I thought that I typed Mel and sent it to Melissa when it did not reach Melody in an adequate amount of time [30 minutes, fuck you gatech mail system]. So Melody starts panicking because the e-mail is supposedly going to the girl in the operations group so she sends her an e-mail explaining the situation. So now this girl has an e-mail from my girlfriend telling her to disregard the e-mail from me, that I never sent to her. It's a bad situation that's all to inconvenient at my convenience.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Sympathy for the Devil

Patrick Bateman played by Christian BaleI finally got to watch American Psycho, and I have to say that I kind of feel for the character of Patrick Bateman. I mean, sure, he’s a lunatic, but he has good reason (in my opinion) for being so. The people he had to interact with would’ve driven me mad too, well, maybe not in as homicidal fashion as he went. God help you all if I ever become a yuppie. I so need a chainsaw.

Matt, the new roommate, recently had quite an adventure dealing with cops, drugs, and a 20 ft. wall. It seems to have scared him quite a bit along with screwing his foot up pretty bad. His family dropped off today and he told me that it wasn’t worth it and that he would go cold turkey with all the partying and the cocaine. As much as I dislike the kid, how do I turn him away in an hour like this?
♪…YOU PRETEND IT DOESN’T BOTHER YOU
BUT YOU JUST WANT TO EXPLODE…♪
Song of the Moment: “Turn the Page” by Bob Seger

Friday, August 26, 2005

A Solid Start

There's something to be said for doing things right while they're going on. I've managed to keep up on my classes, keep my room in order, keep the kitchen clean, and have time for some recreation with my friends. I'm sure all hell will break lose in a few days when the assignments continue to pile on, but for now I've maintained a happy balance in my life.

The roommate is a little crazy though. I'm pretty sure that he skipped his classes this morning. I just wish he talked a little less and wasn't so crazy. He only seems to be in the apartment in the least convenient moments. Or maybe they are only inconvenient because he is there? I'm not what I dislike so much about him. Maybe it can be displayed in this quick conversation.

Jack: I picked up the Financial Times for my classes
Matt: Why, so that you can read how Bush is an idiot and is running this country into the ground?
**GLARE**
Jack: I'm going to pretend you didn't say that

Thursday, August 25, 2005

The Incredible Jack and other Madness

JACK SMASH!!!At this point I’ve fully moved into the new apartment. Jack and I are still working on ideas for decorations, one of which involves the 8-point buck head that his grandfather shot and stuffed. Right now Jack’s accelerating the degeneration of his brain with the new game (The Incredible Hulk: Ultimate Destruction) that I purchased today for the Cube. Think GTA except you play as the Hulk, which means just about everything in the city is your weapon. Jack’s having too much fun picking up civilians and throwing them like footballs, which is beginning to scare me.

I’m only taking 11 credit hours for my last semester, 1 credit hour more than the bare minimum I need to graduate. The classes seem interesting but I can’t seem to get too engaged in them. One funny thing that happened the first week occurred in Dr. Brecke’s Science, Technology and International Affairs class. He was amazed by the class size having no experience in giving lectures to more than 100 students at a time and asked what was the reason for this. I blurt out, “Do you want the real reason, Dr. Brecke?” He answers, “Sure David, you and I have known each other for long enough.” I answer, “Dr. Best’s class is murder.” It was worth seeing the prof’s face after that remark. More to come later.
”Jack smash!”
Game of the Moment: The Incredible Hulk: Ultimate Destruction

Monday, August 22, 2005

OCD

So I've finalized moving into the apartment today with my last trip of stuff from home.

Home was a nice place to stay; it was a little inconvenient at times, but really quite enjoyable. The food was good, I had free cable and internet, and the parents kept a calm, quiet environment.

This place offers the convenience of being close to Melody, which is a major plus, and it takes the commute out of my living. I think this year will be a good year.

I'll post pics eventually of my room. The OCD side of me has taken over and my room is in perfect shape. I only hope to conquer the kitchen mess soon.

That is all for now.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Paul Van Dyke

Trance God...that's what I heard him referred to as at work. He was going to be playiong a long set at Nation tonight, and so I decided taht, if I didn't feel like shit after getting home, I'd take a shower and head down. Hopefully there would be tickets at the window (they were selling many online), and hopefully my metro ride wouldn't be wasted.

I get there, I buy a ticket, I make it in. It is early, and the god isn't due for another hour it seems. I zone in and out to the house DJ, satisfying what may be my most guilty pleasure: I really like bright lights and heavy thumps, foggers and glow sticks. I likje seeing hot women in skimpy clothing. I like seeing people flipping out in rhythm. I like to attend raves and their club equivalents.

I'm on Coke. The good stuff, mind you, headquartered in Atlanta. I find this to be the Nectar of the gods, and wonder if Paul van Dyke likes it. I've never heard of the guy before tonight, but find myself very curious as to what makes a trance god. As if I could tell. I do assume, however, that like all gods he must like Coke. And that, given time, he'll make it rain manna from the sky to feed all the worshippers on the dance floor.

The house is packed tight, the main dance floor giving little room for anyone to show their stuff. I end up between a couple guys and in front of a vision sent from Heaven itself. Glasses, nose stud, lip ring, book tucked into the waist of her long pants, hair fastened back by some simple hair pins, sandals, skimpy top. She's with a friend in a similar get-up, but with a Care Bear t-shirt instead. The Vision dances, her friend does not.

I do my best to let me body go with the base.

I get groped by women. I get groped by men. I don't really care at that point, too many people to avoid it. I grope women. I occasionally groped men. My hands would just go out and see what they got. I imagine its like fishing, where it doesn't matter that much what you catch, if anything at all. You can always toss it back.

Paul takes over the DJ booth. The sermon begins. The energy in the crowd was almost palpitable and was contagious. Thirty minutes into the set something new: the blast the fog machines directly into the crowd and kick up all the strobe lights. The effect: zero visibility that alternates between darkness and white. T3h awesome. People let loose then. Nobody cared about who was grinding on what, myself included. By the time the fog lifted, I noticed my hands had been on the Vision. What warmed my heart, though, was that we had both stopped a second to wipe our glasses down. Thats some movie shit, right there, if they made decent movies.

The vision and her friend are driven out of the crowd by some jerk that is hitting up on them despite their requests telling him to go away. I lose track of her for good, more or less. Depression sets in, possibly due to losing a golden opportunity, possibly due to the liquor kicking in.

A man offers to sell me "poof." I decline, saying "No, but thank you very much." He laughs. I suppose that was entirely too polite a rejection for that sort of thing, but I'm not one to be rude. I catch a couple in the corner, girl giving the guy head. I wonder if anyone else notices. I join the thrashers in the smaller dance floor for a while, feeling the need to unwind. I watch the breakdancers for a while, wondering if I should make a total ass of myself.

All in all, it was fun. Paul van Dyke may very well have been a god, his music damn good from the little I understand of the genre. Even the wonders of a trance god can't make vodka and red bull taste good, though. I'll stick to Rum and Coke. Tomorrow is Mousetrap. Trance it isn't, but Britpop may be even better. Doubtless I'll be graced by another vision. Maybe this one I'll get a number for.

Daniel "Danger" V

P.S. - Sorry to hear about the water problems, David. Don't plot evil against the bitch, Meg, just lay down a clear and obvious ultimatum about who lives there, pays rent, and has 2/3 voice in who the fuck gets to come in or not. Where did you get the hat, Jack? Where the fuck are you, David's younger brother?

P.P.S. - WTF is poof? Marijuana, I'm guessing. Maybe I should have taken the guy up on it, just to see what it was. Or maybe he was a NARC.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Smooth Criminal

My lack of posts lately has mostly been to due to moving into the new apartment with a small sprinkling of procrastination on the side. Anyhow, while loading the new room up I’ve been leaving my car doors unlocked while it’s parked downstairs, so long as it has nothing of value inside. I come back from a trip up there today and find it odd that my car smells like cigarette smoke. I look down to see that the plastic casing around my CD player had been taken off and that a burnt out cigarette and lighter sat in the passenger’s seat. I didn’t panic because my CD player was still there. Put the plastic back around the thing and tested it, and it works. I didn’t touch the cigarette or the lighter, instead calling the cops, filed a report and made a drop of the stuff. Probably won’t do them any good since it was probably some random bum who snuck down there (the lot’s security has yet to be installed). Lesson learned from this: lock the doors. I probably should’ve after Jack’s hat got stolen. Welcome to life in downtown Atlanta I guess.
♪…HOW CAN I RESPECT YOUR CRIME
WHEN ALL YOU CRIMINALS WHINE…♪
Song of the Moment: “Albatross” by Corrosion of Conformity

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Behold! The Hammer of Good Sense!

The Hammer of Good Sense!  Let assholes and idiots fear my hammer!There is no water. I haven’t taken a shower in four fucking days and I feel filthy. Not normal filthy either. Only through extra care to not sweat getting to and from work and excessive applications of deodorant body spray have I been able to get through the days. I’ve had to brush my teeth using small amounts of bottled water. I’ve had to use the bathroom in all the other unoccupied apartments in the hall since I only get one tank of water per toilet to flush with. To compound on my agony in this temporary apartment, the horrible school band seems to delight in playing percussion sections within earshot while I lie in bed trying to sleep. I hate Georgia Tech, in this case, housing. I cannot wait for Monday to come.

Trivia at Rocky Mountain on Wednesday night was rather funny. One of the questions was, “What does brontophobia mean?” Jack writes our answer as “Fear of big things, like my penis,” and turns that in to the trivia lady. She gave him an annoyed look and then minutes later announced the correct answer, which was fear of thunder. Good times though, and the bastard also stole a pitcher from the establishment. He outdid himself though when he brought by all the cooking ware he bought for the new apartment. Most of it was some quality shit. I’ve just contributed a brand new sledgehammer to the apartment cause. Why? To neuter a possibly unruly roommate should the need arise. Yes, neuter.

Mom called last night for 30 minutes. I’d like to feel sorry for her but she complains way too much. Thank God I didn’t give her my cell phone until a couple months after starting service so that I could prepare by soaking up rollover minutes.

I need to stop this diet of chicken nuggets and Crown Royal. The shits they give are of epic proportions.
“I'm giving up the memory of a truly legendary bowel movement for you. I had to kill it with a shovel, you know.”
Comic of the Moment: Transmetropolitan by Warren Ellis and Darick Robertson

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Twat

I am twenty-two years old and I am, for the first time, experiencing roommates. Pathetic, you may say. Perhaps. But when living with one's parents is the only way to afford college, the choice between an education which will bring job opportunities and a greater income vs the minor humiliation of living with mommy and daddy is an obvious one. The situation is "special" because I am an only child and this is my first time on my own--but wait! It gets better! I am renting a house from my parents with three other people. Talk about getting the shit end of the stick. The house is huge, and nice, and in a nice family-type neigborhood. My parents love this house. So if anything goes wrong in the house, whose neck is in the noose but mine ?

Overall, the situation isnt too bad. Of my three roomies, I know two of them very well. One is my cousin, so I know she won't do anything damaging to the house. Another is my boyfriend. And you know...I know him pretty well. I'm sleeping with him and all. And he lives in my bedroom. So nothing too disasterous will come from him. The other fellow we live with is a guy my boyfriend works with. He's pretty nice. He's chill. Very respectful. So, I doubt he will generate any problems.

Seems perfect, right? The problem is not the roommates. The problem is the roommate's girlfriend. I swear, this girl spends more time in my house than I do. She washes more laundry here than I do. She eats more food here than I do. (But she doesn't have more sex here than I do...that's a title she will not get.) The woman is going to end up costing us money. If this goes on much longer, I am going to demand she starts paying rent.

At first I thought that maybe the problem was me. Perhaps I just havent had roomie experiences before so I dont know how to be patient or understanding. But I thought it through. This girl should not be.

Perhaps her presence wouldn't bother me so much if her presence wasn't always such a fucking production. For example, she likes to point out that she is small. She's little, granted, but I wouldn't exactly categorize her as small. She's one of those people you look at and you can tell she is going to be very pear shaped by the time she is thirty. She's also one of those people who has to laugh louder than everyone else. She has to stand to talk so everyone focuses on her. Grrr! Why? Why cant she sit down and shut up? Last night, I was watching We Were Soldiers with my two dude roommates. It was the last half hour of the movie...the part where you find out who lives and who dies. Its the part you have to watch because you already watched most of the damn movie so you might as well see the fucking ending. She comes over. Comes right in the house and starts talking and yelling and making a shit load of noise. Then she starts talking about how stupid the military is and how military movies are "gay." I couldnt believe she was actaually stupid enough to say that in front of me, whose father retired from the army last year, served in two wars, and was moved all over the fucking world because of it. And I was even more shocked that she said it in front of my boyfriend whose father is a general and has given his entire life to the military. She made me HATE her just because she didnt have the common courtesy to shut the fuck up when someone is watching a movie. If she had shut up, she wouldn't have insulted half the people who live here. Had we been in a theater, I would have pelted Hot Tomales at her.

She's dumb. She's common. She's loud.

If her noise affects my studying, "accidents" will happen.

Dave. Help me plot. I need your devious mind to help me plot untracable...inconveniences.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

I Hate It Here

Spider Jerusalem getting down with the tribeI’m currently living at Ian’s apartment. It took forever to get that damned router I just purchased working. The water here’s brown at the slightest hint of heat, so it’s been ice cold showers for the last couple days. Oh, why am I complaining now that the water was brown? There’s no water at all at the moment! It was supposed to come back on at 1630 today! I’m going to have to go across the street to take a crap. If my new apartment building pushes back move in day I’m going to take my infamous baseball bat to the incompetent staff there.

Warren Ellis’s Transmetropolitan is kicking my ass. This is my kind of (crazy and demented) sci-fi. I guess you can expect that out of an English writer who bears a odd resemblance to Rasputin. This is probably the filthiest thing I've read outside of Preacher, and I'm loving every second of it.

Saw an ambulance coming out of the Varsity, our famed grease-pit, on a Thursday. Poor sod, it must suck to feel your arteries and veins instantaneously solidifying after ingesting one of their chili-dogs.

One of the perks of working at the post office is that I get free magazines from the piles leftover whenever Tech students graduate and not leave forwarding addresses. Now I can read all the Maxim I want without paying a dime! On another work related note, now that the Hispanic student worker is gone, I’ve noticed the mistake pile is considerably smaller compared to what it used to be. Plus the numbers on the accounts are matching up just fine now. God, I hate incompetence in the workplace.

On the way back from Kroger one day some Hispanic mother and child crossed the street without looking. Thank God for new brake pads. What is wrong with people these days? Do they not teach their children to look before crossing in Latin American countries?

409 seems to work well against ants. Perhaps it works as well against humans in proportional amounts? I'll need to test this sometime.
“Your challenge was ignorant and filthy, but I accept it anyway, on condition that I get a raise and an expense account for weaponry and the use of your wife.”

“Sure.”

“That easy? Even the wife bit?”

“Why not? She left me last year. You can find her, you're welcome to her. Carry a whip and a chair.”
Comic of the Moment: Transmetropolitan by Warren Ellis and Darick Robertson

Friday, August 05, 2005

Intelligent Design

No longer with we spank the monkey, the monkey will spank usI always remembered this being called creationism. Perhaps “intelligent design” is the sexy new politically-correct tag for it. Reminds me of one of the many stories that my Earth and Atmospheric Science professor would tell the class during his off-tangents. This one had to with a student of his who was a believer in intelligent design, not subscribing to evolutionist theory. Before an exam he went and spoke to the professor, telling him that he refused to answer test questions on evolution saying that if he answered them right he would holding that the theory was true. The professor suggested that on evolution questions he could start the answer with “According to Dr. St. John…” and give the answer appropriate to the question. The student followed the professor’s instruction and both had no problems afterwards. When the end of the semester came, the student filled out his course survey, stating that Professor St. John was a good lecturer and a swarm of other positive points. He ended it with “Too bad he’s still going to hell.” Ha, I hope you didn't read all this rambling because of a silly monkey picture I posted on here. Everyone loves monkeys.
”No longer will we spank the monkey, the monkey will spank us.”
Movie of the Moment: Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back starring Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Sometimes I Just Don’t Know My Own Strength…

Sometimes I just don't know my own strength...I, uh, accidentally ripped a good chuck out of my door handle on the driver’s side of my car yesterday. I really don’t know how it happened, I was talking to Ian while opening my door and then my hand suddenly flies back, holding a piece of the handle. The door’s still can be opened, but this is still annoying. I think I’ve had enough car trouble as it is. I probably should get the oil changed tomorrow since that's at a level lower than the recommended minimum. Don't need the engine exploding on me, no sir...
”…GIVE ME STUFF TO BREAK
JUST GIVE ME STUFF TO BREAK…”
Song of the Moment: “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit

Not-So-Silent Nate

¡El diablo!Recommended Reading: SilentNate. Xanga.com. 29 Jul. 2005
So I am sitting here at work.....work work work....in the loan closet...closet closet closet....work work work...closet closet closet....and I am a dime short to getting a Moutain Dew. Calling Daniel for a dime. Phone is ringing...ringing ringing ringing.....still ringing....he hung up on me....redailing...ringing once more..ringing ringing he picked up....asking for a dime....success he has one....waiting for a dime..waiting waiting waiting....sitting once again.....sitting sitting sitting...listeing to music...."fell in a love with a country..city kid in a different world" i know this song but i can't remember for the life of me who sings it.....it's bugging me....giggidy giggidy...once again still sitting here...waiting for my dime to get my mountain dew....mountainy dewy goodness....im falling asleep..damn allergy medicne.....what's taking him so long..i want my dime...ooooh offspring is on......i'm not shaking in the chair.......shaking shaking shaking.......i guess this is their new song...."can't repeat or something like that.........i want my mountain dew....dew dew dew..mountain mountain mountain.....i want my dime......oh i think he's coming..oh no nevermind...not him..........how long does it take to bring a dime..i want my dime...dime dime dime.......YEAHHH he's here...he threw the dime at me..missed...i want it...bending over.....nope he got it....got my dime.....going to get my mountain dew..i will be back..got my mountain dew....sipping...ahhh......goodness.....daniel is sitting here.....sitting sitting sitting.....mudvayne is on.....sipping again...we're bored...bored bored bored.....we didn't get to play our ping pong...sad sad sad......i didn't get to win my 10 bucks....but we got free lunch..happy happy happy...but full full full...daniel is playing with magnets on the file cabinet......he has more than one....intttttteresting.......phewwwwwwwweeellllppp.....thats the noise it is making.....roling rolling rolling......we froze our legs today....it stung stung stung...."does it make you happy...are you feeling happy...are you fucking happy now that i lost everything..." good song..i like i it....good solid son.............oooooohh where did the magnet go...wait
This, my friends, is madness at its finest. He never ceases to surprise. Too bad he can’t come to live with us this fall semester. Maybe in the winter, perhaps?
”…DRAIN YOU OF YOUR SANITY
FACE THE THING THAT SHOULD NOT BE…”
Song of the Moment: “The Thing That Should Not Be” by Metallica

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Black Dog

Recommended Reading:S Korea unveils first dog clone.” BBC News. 3 Aug. 2005.
Scientists in South Korea have produced the first dog clones, they report in Nature magazine this week.
Lordy, looks like the South Koreans have discovered the key to ending the North’s famine! Hey, before you all start labeling me as a racist I’ll have you know I am half-Korean, therefore allowed to crack racist jokes about gooks Koreans. You know, kind of like how black people can say the “N” word and not get hell for it? Besides, “I’m not racist, I’m right.”
“…CHASE THE RABBIT, FETCH THE STICK…”
Song of the Moment: “Sweet Amber” by Metallica

Responsibility

Yeah, I broke the van...I’ve been meaning to make this post last week, but it seems that procrastination has gotten the best of me. Well first a little story (I guess it’s nap time for you). Last Thursday my supervisor asked me to take the van and some mail over to the Student Center mail office during my 15 minute lunch break. So I’m driving out of central processing’s lot and there’s a truck pulled into the entrance, obstructing my way out. He sees me and starts backing out of the entrance and on to the street. I begin making my way toward the exit when he abruptly stops, still effectively blocking my way out. The van’s stopping power has never been to great and I was close enough to the truck and had a split second decision on whether to hit the fence near the exit or the truck. I picked the former and ended up knocking out one of the windows on the right side (which can be seen taped up on the picture to the right). I stopped, looked at the window and said to myself, “fuck, that’s soooo coming out of my paycheck,” and continued to the Student Center to finish the job. Came back, told my boss, gave the police the report, neglecting to mention that I had left the scene for a couple minutes. Luckily enough the school has insurance for their vehicles, so I’m off the hook.

When I saw the boss, I explained to him what had happened, taking full responsibility for the accident. I didn’t try to make any excuses that would divert blame because I knew had I been going slowing this incident might have been averted. I don’t understand why people can’t do the same in similar circumstances. Is it really that hard for a person to accept blame for something they did? Whatever happened to responsibility?
”It's... a long story. What matters is that I learned something my Uncle Ben taught me. With great power there must also come great responsibility.”

“Umm, hmm... and then what?”

“'With great power comes great responsibility.'”

“Right...”

“So what comes with great responsibility? What's the other half of the equation? Power? Freedom? Guilt?”

“I... I don't... I mean... You
enjoy doing this, don't you?”

“Of course not.”
Comic of the Moment: The Amazing Spiderman issue 473 by J. Michael Straczynski and John Romita Jr.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Sleepless Hack, Indeed

Recommended Reading:July 2005 Site Stats.” WarrenEllis.com. 1 Aug. 2005.
For the month of July, this site spat in the eye of 126296 unique visitors, generating 2491920 hits/877466 page impressions and ripping through some 42 GB in bandwidth.

Got boingboinged a few times, getting a lot of traffic from collegehumor.com and robotwisdom, and from Tom Reynolds and Suicide Girls.

Plus, I guess, people looking for dirty pictures of Katie West and Melissa Gira.

Also, http://www.technorati.com/tags/nerd+prom seems to have done a lot of business….!

In any case, that’s about fifty thousand more people than last month. Which means it’s time to form a Church. I’m taking applications for temple whores today, and also for people who’d dance around portraits of me at conventions so that I don’t have to go to them myself.”
Gotta love those crazy Brit comic writers. I’ve been reading Warren Ellis’s run since his UN-with-testicles run with Wildstorm’s Stormwatch comic (which was actually inspiration for my senior project). Like stated many times before on this blog in utter fan-boy fashion, Planetary is my favorite running series of all time, and continuing to blow my mind ever couple months whenever a new issue is released. His writing’s not for everyone, especially the faint of heart, requiring a specific sense of humor. Neither is his writing perfect like many others claim their favorite writers to be. Why all this fan-boy ranting? I’ve stolen quite a few articles that were linked from his blog as of recently and decided I’d at least give some props.
Warren Ellis writes comic books and graphic novels, video games, animation, books, screenplays, TV, and anything else he can steal money for. He lives in South-East England and is kept standing solely by Red Bull, cigarettes, and a cane.
Website of the Moment: WarrenEllis.com

Brangelina and Other Nonesense

I went down to the Perez's, friends of the family, yesterday for a routine visit. Mr. Perez kept on giving me beer, which worried me a little bit since I had to be up and at work at 0530 this morning. It was nice change to eat some home-cooked food, though.

Wow, those "geniuses" that dreamed up the name "Bennifer" for when Jenifer Lopez and Ben Affleck are at it again. This time their victims are Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who got the tag "Brangelina." I think I saw this on MSN one day, but I don't care enough to get you a link. When, God, when will they stop with this nonesense?

Oddly enough, Wedding Crashers hit the top spot at the box office during its second week out. Usually if movies don't hit number one their first week, they don't get there at all. I guess Charlie and the Chocolate Factory didn't have enough to hold the top spot, nor were any of the week's new movies really worth seeing. Oddly enough, though, I have the urge to go see Murderball. I'm not a big fan of documentaries but my past experiences with handicapped friends probably had to do with my piqued interest in the movie.
"NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT'S LIKE
TO BE THE BAD MAN
TO BE THE SAD MAN
BEHIND BLUE EYES..."
Song of the Moment: "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who

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