7:27 p.m.

Ok, no more posts until I finish this list:

THINGS THAT NEED TO BE DONE BEFORE SUMMER

1. Film Bunny
2. Edit Bunny
3. Capture and edit 'Arabian Nights' footage
4. Write French speech on the Marquis de Sade (My French teacher is an ass jacket...pass it on)
5. Present French speech on the Marquis de Sade
6. Philosophy seminar
7. Philosophy essay
8. TROBIES!
9. PROM!
10. York Enrolement appointment
11. Make art digital portfolio
12. Present a.d.p.
13. French exam
14. Philosophy exam
15. Usher at Hart House
16. GRAD!
17. Burn Arabian Nights music
18. French portfolio

Things to keep in mind: Get a job, get driver's license, don't kill self, don't kill others, don't blow up school.

Woo-hoo.

KILL SCHOOL KILL SCHOOL KILL SCHOOL! KILL FRENCH ESPECIALLY!

*HISS HISS FROTH HISS DROOL*

6:25 p.m.

CONNECT: Humphrey Bogart ~> Jason Biggs

Humphrey Bogart

was in CASABLANCA with

Ingrid Bergman

was in MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS with

Sean Connery

was in THE ROCK with

Nicholas Cage

was in ADAPTATION with

Chris Cooper

was in AMERICAN BEAUTY with

Mena Suvari

was in AMERICAN PIE with

JASON BIGGS

Assignment: Arnold Schwarzenegger ~> Ashley Olsen

Rules:

~ YOU MUST KNOW THE NAMES OF THE MOVIE AND ACTOR IN ALL THE STEPS!

~No music videos

~No commercials

~Only actors and directors are allowed...No producers or writers

~TV Shows and cameos are ok...but try to avoid them

~Unlimited amount of steps (not like that stupid Kevin Bacon game)

FREAK OUT!

Ok, fine, I will confess my sins:

I am in love with Kermit the Frog. I eat three pounds of illegal mushrooms everyday. I think mayonnaise rocks. George Bush is hot, communism rules, boo abortion, meat is murder, go free love, condoms are for squares, Texans are elegant, Brits have fantastic teeth, Canadians are in-bred hicks, all Asians are good at math, all Jews are cheap but not as cheap as East Indians, Jesus was a closet homosexual, the Pope is a Nazi, all Californians are freaks, McDonalds provides quality food, everything gives you cancer, French people suck, French-CANADIAN people suck harder and all hail the great lord Satan.

666. Peace and war. Fuck you, I hope you all die. Eventually.

10:42 p.m.

The glory days of this blog have passed. That's just a fancy way of saying that I'm too goddamn lazy to post that much anymore. I mean, it's not like anybody really reads it, so no biggie.

Mother's Day is such a crock. I mean, do mom's really get a kick out of it? I don't think my mom does. I got her a dish set from the Bay (twenty pounds that I had to lug ten gigantic blocks home) and she says "Oh, thank you, I was thinking of buying this the other day." And my sister started reading stupid poetry that only a dumb eight (or nine?) year old could write.

Mr. A. thinks I'm a sadist. That's really great. See, what happened was, our class was in the library looking for topics for our speeches and he overhears me saying to M.: "I think I'm going to do mine on the Marquis de Sade, as I'm a sadist." He gives me this weird look and asked me to continue the conversation. Weird and creepy, I must say. Oh well, at least he'll remember my name now...fucking asshole.

I notice that I dedicate a lot of my time ripping him out. It's not because I have nothing better to complain about, I just don't really want to get into the other stuff 'cause they're weird and confusing and they kind of depress the hell out of me. I'm just going to say that I really regret my decision to go to Prom, 'cause judging by all the hullabaloo (great word) that's been going on, I think it's going to suck mondo shit. Great.

HOW AM I GOING TO EDIT ALL THE DRAMA FOOTAGE? SHIT SHIT SHIT.

I hope a lot of people die soon. It seems like I'm hating a lot of people now. That's not healthy, for me and, if any of the violent thoughts in my head go to fruition (proper use? no? whatever), for them either.

Cut my hair again. Kind of spiky and whispy, like an anime character. I like it, makes my head feel less heavy.

No order, whatsoever...no agenda, whatsoever. I want to kick Tobey Maguire in the balls.

10:38 p.m.

What is a freelance arts columnist to do, without a wife, without a job, without a testicle that hasn’t swollen to the size of a cantaloupe?

That is the beginning of my review of Fishwrap, which I saw with M. on Saturday at the Tarragon. Good show, but I'm a little too lazy to get into the details.

Anyway, this weekend was bizzz-ay. Well, for me anyway. Fishwrap on Saturday and Sprockets on Sunday. Oh, was Sunday COOL. Seeing a film that I HELPED MAKE on the big screen, what a feeling. I know that I am getting into the right field...I SO KNOW I AM MEANT TO MAKE MOVIES!

Too bad we didn't win though. Oh well. Actually, this really pretentious, but really gorgeous, film won. A Short Film on Death by some dude with a 16 mm camera ( I think ) and some awesome lighting. Mind you, after a few minutes of "Wow, look at that...no digital fuzz" it got a little boring. More like A Fifteen Minute, but Feels like an Hour 'cause it's too FUCKING SLOW, Film on People talking about Random Crap.

All bitterness aside, of course.

So, this week is starting to look pretty shitastical. Fucking Mr. A. is making us do a fucking debate due on Friday...shitforbrainsnogoodasswipedouchebag that he is. And philosophy which always sucks. And everything else which always sucks. DAMMIT, I hate it when people are happy when I'm not. I think everyone's feelings should always correspond with mine, it's the only way things ought to work.

So...poopie.