The best things happen on weekends: new Pixar movies and (for some people) sex. And this weekend I only had to pay $8.25 for one of those. Friday evening I joined the rest of the civilized world and saw Wall-E, Pixar’s newest release. I’ve been excited about the movie from the moment I first saw pictures of Wall-E, and I’ve spent the last three weeks saying “Waaaallllll-EeeEe” in the best robot voice that I can. To understand how good the movie Wall-E is, I compiled two lists, and it turns out that everything is on both lists!

Non-Transmittable Things I Like aka Things Featured in the movie Wall-E

1. Humor.
2. Robots.
3. Lasers.
4. Welding
5. Explosions.
6. Photosynthesis.
7. Fire Extinguishers.
8. Sounds that Apple computers make.
9. Lists that are ordered by length of items.
10. Hundreds of hidden references to other Pixar movies.

Where the movie Indiana Jones 4 destroyed your hope in humanity, Wall-E will restore your hope, make you laugh, justify the large $6.00 bucket of popcorn you purchased, make you adopt a Roomba vacuum robot, keep you from stalking George Lucas for an evening, cure your hiccups, relieve your migraine, and bring you closer to nirvana. The last is of particular importance to all of the Buddhist Xangans out there.

Hold That Thought

I’ve written a lot of blogs since I started at Xanga. I decided that I wanted to create an archive of all my postings that allowed quicker browsing and a comprehensive search option. Tonight I finished archiving all of my posts (clear back to April of 2003). Feel free to go to Popeonabomb.com for quick access to my brain.

Note: All of the comments are archived with each post. However, not all comments have the correct user name attached to them. Also, I need to change the title for each post to something other than the date, and I need to add tags to each post. This will all take place, but it will be a while before I’m finished.

Instead of playing sports in high school, I played academic bowl. Any athlete can get laid after scoring the tie-breaking touchdown in the final seconds of the big homecoming game, but it is far more difficult to “get with a lady” (as they say on the streets) after reciting the periodic table of elements. In fact, I submit it is impossible, because it didn’t work for me. And it has never worked for anyone. Look at Alex Trebek. It is obvious that he has never had sex. If he did, it must have been terrible. Only bad sex or joining a local emo band makes a person wake up and think “I’d like to wear an out-dated sports jacked with patches on the elbows.” And I don’t hear him singing.

The only relation between the previous paragraph and the following paragraphs is that my friend Christina attended a rival school and played on the most dreaded academic bowl team in the region. We grew up in neighboring towns, both learned German from my mom, both studied architecture at OSU, and we have quite a few mutual friends.

Last Thursday she stumbled upon the video of my apartment tour and sent me the message “Are you really in San Francisco? I will be here until September. Give me a call tomorrow at lunch.”

Friday afternoon I ate lunch in the park at Levi’s plaza (where I work), flipped open my phone, and called Christina. When she answered, I realized I could hear her voice. I turned around, and there, unplanned and fifty feet from me, stood Christina! Turns out she works across the street. We’d been eating lunch in the same miniature sized park all week!

What a small, incredible world this place is.

Tomorrow I’m going to purcahse the new Cold Play album. I’m excited about it, but normally when a band starts to claim that they’ve “written the greatest song in rock history” it means their ten seconds from a complete meltdown, a month away from staring on “I Love New York,” and are already dating an Olsen Twin or two.

I spent today waiting for Comcast to arrive and set up my internet, telephone, and cable. I don’t want to use Comcast, but there aren’t any other viable options. The installation guy showed up, but thanks to the dolts at customer service, who messed up my address, none of the services could be installed.

Mind you, this is after I contacted Comcast THREE times prior to today in order to fix the address error. I don’t have Comcast service yet, and they already anger me much as George Lucas does.

Enough with the negativity though! Other people complain better than I do, but no one else makes a better video clip of their apartment than I do. So, without further delay, I present what a $1450 a month apartment in SF looks like.

Note: In Oklahoma you can’t purchase alcohol on Sundays, grocery stores cannot sell alcohol, and convenience stores can only sell beer that is below 3.2%. If you go to a liquor store, you can buy anything you want, but they can’t sell you cold beer because you might drink it. Yea. I’m not kidding.

California on the other hand seems to hand out liquor licenses to everyone at birth. Every store sells liquor, a lot of it, and plenty of cold beer.

And here is the video of my awesome alarm clock (the one mentioned in the video clip).

Spoiler Alert: This is a spoiler alert in that I’m telling you how fucking awful the movie is.

I lucked out and got my favorite seat. The one right in the middle of the theater - not too close, not too far, and right in the sweet-spot of the theatre’s sound system (the British spell it better). I say that in order to say this: at the mid point of the movie, I pondered (with serious consideration) the option of standing up, unzipping my pants, and pissing on the crowd below me. That way, when they got home there would be something slightly entertaining to tell friends. I didn’t want their evenings to be a complete loss.

Yes, getting pissed on by a stranger is better than this movie. Other activities better than this movie include jumping in to a dumpster of syringes, contracting Ebola, or passing a kidney stone the size of an NFL linebacker.

Afterwards (after the movie, not the urination), my girlfriend said, with honest emotion, “Are you okay? I kept looking over at you, and I’d never seen you look more disappointed or sad. By the way, nice arc”

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is the movie equivalent of George Lucas visiting his beloved grandmother, and then ripping her head off and shitting down her neck. It is a terrible conclusion to a much loved and ever improving trilogy (one of the few trilogies that hadn’t gotten progressively worse… until now) that definitively proves three things:

1.) George Lucas is a fucking retard. I’m not sure what happened to him, but somewhere in the last 18 years, he has managed to contract Down syndrome, move in to the advanced stages of syphilis, retroactively be shaken as a baby, and suffer an acute lack of oxygen.

2.) George Lucas needs to hire me, because I am the only person on the planet not too busy kissing Lucas’ ass to tell him when he has had another terrible, awful, good-for-nothing, no good idea. Same goes for his BFF Spielberg.

3.) The word “Lucas” is now reserved to mean an idea for which there are not enough words to describe how bad it is. Here, I’ll use it in a sentence: “The second most famous example of a Lucas is when Hitler tried to kill all of the Jews.”

Let’s take a moment to discuss the writers of the movie:
A.) George Lucas - He lives in San Francisco. If I ever encounter him, I’ll try to not puke on him / kill him in a fit of justifiable homicide. When “the Big One” strikes San Francisco and kills Lucas in a grotesque fashion, people will call it Divine Providence.

B.) David Koepp - Though this man has done some almost decent work in films such as “War of the Worlds” and the original Jurassic Park, he also brought life and a complete dirth of excitement or content to movies such as “The Lost World: Jurassic Park” and “Mission: Impossible”. Anyone dumb enough to sign up for a second installment of Jurassic Park doesn’t deserve to write again, let alone reproduce or breathe oxygen. And don’t get me started on “Mission: Impossible”.

C.) Jeff Nathanson - Speed 2, Rush Hour 2, Rush Hour 3, The Terminal. I don’t need to say much here, because you spent the entirety of that list puking so hard your esophagus collapsed right after you spleen came out your mouth. Production companies bring Jeff in when the rest of the talent has been killed of in a bizarre and terribly exciting accident, such as a napalm accident at a strange fetish party.

D.) Philip Kaufman - This man has a solid track record: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Quills, The Right Stuff, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He has a shining record compared to anyone else that worked on Kingdom of the Lost Skulls, but his talent has been slowly draining since his 1978 work on “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

Problems with the Movie:
1.) It had the same color quality and plastic feel that your mother’s first camcorder did. You know, the one where you have to plug it directly in to a VCR, which means when you need to film outside you hook the camera to the VCR, put the VCR in a backpack, and string an 100 foot extension cord from the house to the garden.

2.) Karen Allen (Marion) used to be young enough and slender enough to be hot. The kind of woman feminine enough to seduce you and independent enough to not make you lose your sanity. Now she has become the older annoying woman who sits by you on flights, smells of feet, and insists on talking about bunions while she shows you pictures of her daughter giving birth at home on a tarp.

3.) Giving Indiana Jones a side kick - The second we saw him, we all knew that he had to be Marion’s kid. I prayed that it wouldn’t be true, but alas George, you have ceased to be human, and your lack of intelligence and self-control shows.

4.) Psychic Russian Woman - First, we all know there are no women in Russia, let alone psychics. George, including this character in order to save the life of your first born child would still constitute a bad idea. If the fate of man kind rested on the creation of this character, a real man would have said “Well, we had a damn good time!”

5.) The Jungle Scene - To make roads through the forest, they needed the machine at the front of the convoy to cut down trees. So they blow up the machine and magically the forest has hundreds of miles of dirt road through it? Did they fly all the way down to the South American forests and forget to bring a map that has the most recent roads listed on it? Or did Jesus come down and lend a helping hand?

6.) The Jeep Fight Scene - Yea. We all believe that a person can balance between two jeeps speeding through the forest while being repeatedly being hit the nuts with local flora and not fall off. The conversation on set went like this “I’d like to remove all choreography, timing, decent dialog, and good ideas from this movie.” “You’ve got it, Mr. Lucas.”

7.) Aliens - Because everyone walked out of the previous Indiana Jones movies saying “If only it had aliens.”

8.) Roswell - No one in the entire Lucas empire was able to think of a better idea?

9.) Dumbass Family Jokes - It isn’t an ABC made-for-TV movie. It is an action adventure movie. No Marion. No stupid kid.

10.) The Plot.

11.) The scene where Indiana Junior swings through the trees with monkeys in order to catch up with the speeding jeeps. This is a good idea in the same way porn of Jar Jar Binks is.

George Lucas,
This movie is offensive to the entire human race, intelligence, God, Allah, Border Collies (mine shows much more intelligence than you), and
anyone or anything with an IQ above 70 (when using the WAIS-R).

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