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GenericMan
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Name: Brayton
Birthday: 9/26/1984
Gender: Male
Interests: Humor. Not like the theoretical fluids in one's body that the ancients believed controlled your health, but rather the juxtapostion of two incongruous elements resulting in an ironical or startling situation.
Expertise: I can make a really cool looking rose thing out of a napkin.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Government
Message: message me
AIM:  Generic Engineer
Member Since:
4/10/2003
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| "He didn't listen very well, I ended up having to put a bullet through his head."
"Ahhh - in one ear, out the other, eh?"
"Precisely"
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| "I think," he said with some hesitance, "It's time I showed my hand in
this little game we've been playing, I've been holding hearts for quite
some while."
An eyebrow raised. "Well, it's a shame they're not trump," she replied.
He paused, thought, and then recovered. "True, though if I lead, you need to follow suit, unless you're void there."
Her face hardened. "I used to have one, but someone else led a diamond to me, and I dropped my heart on it."
"Sounds like a bad trick," he comiserated, "Why don't you look at your hand again?"
"Wait a minute," she said, "There's a heart here- you took one of my cards, and gave me your heart - that's cheating!"
"Well, all's fair in War and ...."
"Go Fish?"
"Umm ... no"
"Oh, right ... Bridge."
He sighed. "Not that either."
"Pinochle? I Doubt It? Old Maid? Crazy Eights? Texas Hold Em?"
"Forget it ... I'll bring it up later."
He shuffled off.
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| Now that I killed off most of my readership, figuratively and, in some
cases, literally; I feel like I can muse into the void without fear of
being overheard.
For those of you who only keep up with me through my blog post (e.g.:
stalkers), I have ascended from sub-urban residence to fully urban
residence. As I type this, I am gazing (okay, glancing) out of a 3rd
story window at the Baltimore skyline.
Within the span of a minute, I can hear people cursing, garbage cans
shifting, traffic exhaling past, and the incessant polyphonic singing
of an "ice cream" truck - a truck whose destruction I have frequently
contemplated while lieing on my bed. (And now the auditory picture of
Baltimore is completed as I detect the shrill, disinterested wail of
sirens in the distance.)
Now, I know some of you may be alarmed by the fact that I'm living in a
rough a city as Baltimore. (2nd highest murder rate in the country,
we're gunning for you Detroit!) but authorities have assured us that
most of this is "deserved" - i.e.closely tied to the burgeoning drug
traffic in the city. I myself have have only seen one drug deal (and
possibly one bust, though I didn't bother to ask that nice undercover
cop why he was pointing his gun in that guy's face.)
Of course, the roots of this gun toting - shoot first, don't ask
questions - attitude orginates with the War of 1812, where Baltimore
Militia held off a British army intent on burning the city down -
sniping and killing the British general in the process. This proud
tradition of private gun use continues to this day.
Speaking of gun use, that ice cream truck is headed back here .... mumble mumble.
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| Yarrrr. Yarrr. YARRRRRR.
Sorry, I just saw Pirates of the Caribean III: Ad Naseum today and I'm still throwing up.
Kidding, kidding. We only kid what we love.
And we only hurt the ones we love: so here goes.
I imagine the writers of Pirates III got together the night before the
script was due and brainstormed like crazy. They came up with some
great ideas that tied the whole trilogy together and made up for the
"six year old telling a story" sense we got from the second movie. It
was a masterpiece, and too celebrate, they started tossing back a few
drinks. Then one thing leads to another, and soon they're seeing how
much burning cocaine they can snort off the back of a llama and before
you know it, the scripts destroyed in a freak toaster oven accident,
Jerry Bruckheimer is passed out on the pool table, and the least
hungover of the group (the best boy, if you really must know) writes
out a script and submits it. Then, no one notices that this isn't the
right script until half way through filming, and since they've already
put down non refundable deposits on the ships, monkeys, and pirates
made of out fish, they figure, hell, we'll go with this.
All this to say, the plot is about as murky as the cinematography...
which is dark and smoky throughout. Every single major character, and a
large number of minor characters all seem to have a secret agenda, so
secret in fact, that at the end of the movie, we're still not quite
sure why they were doing what they were doing. It would require a
massive diagram to minimally explain everything, and this would still
not do it justice. (though by justice I mean the type that takes you
out back, stands you against a wall, and goes from there).
Let's give it a go anyway.
Jack Sparrow is back, and crazier than before. He is rescued from the
very boring land of the dead earlier on in the movie. He then proceeds
to do various manipulations and plotting that I still don't understand.
Will- what's his face - is back, played once again by the earnestly
bland Orlando Bloom, he keeps betraying people for no apparent reason
(sometimes hilariously, as ships converge on them shortly after they
leave the land of the tend ... apparently Will had a satellite phone
that he used on the side, since there was no other way he could have
contacted them).
Keira Knightley is back and is still pretty, even though she constantly
dresses like a man. I also noticed that she always speaks through
clenched teeth when she's being dramatic. She does various plotty type
things, becomes a pirate captain, and then king of the pirates, and
then gives a laughable "Battle of Saint Crispins Day" speech. Note: The
preceeding sentence contained spoilers. Speaking of Shakespeare, the
writers must have been reading some of that because various
Shakespearian type phrases kept popping out, like "God's Bodykins" and
so on. Just an aside.
Geoffrey Rush is back and Barby-Rosa and is still stinkin sweet, even
though I couldn't understand what he was saying half of the time.
The Kraken is not back. It apparently died offscreen in between two and three. Oh well.
The squid faced guy who we thought was a jerk, but it turned out was
just in love - is back. And it turns out he's a jerk after all.
Who/What else? Creepy voodoo lady? Check. Old govenor? Check (briefly).
Jerk captain who's maybe not a jerk? Check. Hilarious midget? Check.
Hilarious monkey? Check. Hilarious one eyed guy? Check. Hilarious ugly
guy? Check. (I just realized hilarious should be in quotes since I'm
being ironic, go back and mentall add them). Set up for a giant battle
that just ends in a David vs Goliath one on one while every one else
watches? Check.
I would find a good way to end this review, but I'll just take an idea from Pirates and leave it open for further work.
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| Today, when I got home from work, I was hungry. (This was entirely due
to the fact that I did not pack lunch, so my midday meal consisted of a
leftover muffin and a vegetarian sandwich I scavenged from a meeting I
was not invited to, but I digress.) I searched about in the freezer and
was excited to find a box of Eggo waffles. However, when I checked the
cupboard, I discovered all the syrup had gone and not bothered to leave
a forwarding address. Searching about in the cupboard in mild
desperation, for my hunger pangs were acute, my eyes fell on a jar of
peanut butter. (Please note that this is just a figure of speech, my
eyes themselves did not fall, rather the jar of peanut butter entered
my line of sight and I saw that it was peanut butter.) A mad thought
lept into my mind: dare I?
Feverishly I put an Eggo into the toaster and contemplated the
discovery I could be on the brink of. Perhaps this conconction would be
so delicious that all who ate it would no longer care about war and
strife, perhaps I could use it to single handly bring about world
peace. As I wondered who might have the phone number for the Nobel
Prize committee, the dull "ka-chunk" of the toaster brought me back.
Snatching the eggo from the toaster, I pulled out a butter knife and
applied the Jiffy to the Eggo.
Then I ate it.
It was okay.
Maybe I can just get the Nobel prize for medicine, since it did make me less hungry ...
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