Sobs quietly in a corner when videos of him beyond drunk singing nirvana appear on the internet.
X
12.7.11
Mel Gibson Shatters Your Perception of Reality
I haven't blogged in ages. I think Princess Di has blogged more recently than I have.
Anyway, LucyBrownInLondonTown was praising the blog, so I thought I should write some more. I've had a few more crazy ideas and things come about in the past few months, so here we go.
Firstly, I'm scared of Michael Schumacher. This is partly because my mind always dresses him in an SS uniform whenever I see him, like some glitchy national socialist iPhone app that you pay loads for, then it steals all your personal information. And sends annoying texts to all your jewish friends ("What's a dilemma for a Jew? Half-price pork."). The other reason I'm scared of him is because of his actual clothes. I mean, have you SEEN what he fucking wears when he's not in race overalls? This is an athelete worth millions. If you had that much money, wouldn't you get like a whole styling team or something to sort you the fuck out? I mean, jesus. Seriously, take a look at some of these pictures I've been collecting in the creepy "james's schumacher pictures" folder on my desktop -
I'm particularly fond of the primark/brokeback look, the speedo and the one on the motorcycle (it's a ducati monster, actually) where he looks like a rejected Friends auditionee.
Isn't that a bit weird though?
I suppose it's all relative. I mean, a single grey hair on your head isn't really a problem, but one in your big mac is a fuckin' disaster.
Sort it out, Schumy.
Moving on, how come in Terminator 2, Robert Patrick gets tricked by Arnie when they're on the phone and Arnie refers to the dog as Wolfie rather than it's real name (Max)? Are they seriously suggesting that the piece of coding for random dog name generation was upgraded between the T-800 and the T-1000 Terminator models? Surely if Arnie generated that name, Robert Patrick would be able to recognise it as a name that he might generate for a dog on the spot. It completely undermines the credibility of the entire film. Up until that point, it made complete sense.
Funny how such a small point can ruin your whole perception of something. Like a Casio watch in a period drama, or the twin tours still standing in a film set in the future, or an alien that inexplicably speaks english. Or Mel Gibson.
My mind is starting to misfire. I'll be back with some more answers to questions nobody asked tomorrow after work.
Oh yeah, I invented a fictional family, a bloke called Alan Shrimpley, his brother Peter Shrimpley, and their father, John Shrimpley. I plan on using them for something one day, probably in a complex lie.
Anyway, LucyBrownInLondonTown was praising the blog, so I thought I should write some more. I've had a few more crazy ideas and things come about in the past few months, so here we go.
Firstly, I'm scared of Michael Schumacher. This is partly because my mind always dresses him in an SS uniform whenever I see him, like some glitchy national socialist iPhone app that you pay loads for, then it steals all your personal information. And sends annoying texts to all your jewish friends ("What's a dilemma for a Jew? Half-price pork."). The other reason I'm scared of him is because of his actual clothes. I mean, have you SEEN what he fucking wears when he's not in race overalls? This is an athelete worth millions. If you had that much money, wouldn't you get like a whole styling team or something to sort you the fuck out? I mean, jesus. Seriously, take a look at some of these pictures I've been collecting in the creepy "james's schumacher pictures" folder on my desktop -
I'm particularly fond of the primark/brokeback look, the speedo and the one on the motorcycle (it's a ducati monster, actually) where he looks like a rejected Friends auditionee.
Isn't that a bit weird though?
I suppose it's all relative. I mean, a single grey hair on your head isn't really a problem, but one in your big mac is a fuckin' disaster.
Sort it out, Schumy.
Moving on, how come in Terminator 2, Robert Patrick gets tricked by Arnie when they're on the phone and Arnie refers to the dog as Wolfie rather than it's real name (Max)? Are they seriously suggesting that the piece of coding for random dog name generation was upgraded between the T-800 and the T-1000 Terminator models? Surely if Arnie generated that name, Robert Patrick would be able to recognise it as a name that he might generate for a dog on the spot. It completely undermines the credibility of the entire film. Up until that point, it made complete sense.
Funny how such a small point can ruin your whole perception of something. Like a Casio watch in a period drama, or the twin tours still standing in a film set in the future, or an alien that inexplicably speaks english. Or Mel Gibson.
My mind is starting to misfire. I'll be back with some more answers to questions nobody asked tomorrow after work.
Oh yeah, I invented a fictional family, a bloke called Alan Shrimpley, his brother Peter Shrimpley, and their father, John Shrimpley. I plan on using them for something one day, probably in a complex lie.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
