Clueless Movie Review - King Kong

(0 Stars) Let me just say that this movie SUCKED BALLS.

Let me also say that I haven't seen it yet, but that's hardly important. I made a vow that I wouldn't go and see it unless the monkey lives at the end. I heard he doesn't. So I know at least one filthy Australian who won't be getting my 9 bucks: Jesse Jackson.

As much as I enjoyed the Lord of the Rings and his other movie the Chronicle (What? LOL) of Narnia, I am giving a big thumbs down to King Kong. Look, I saw the original and that thing sucked too. Those special effects were awful, they looked like they were straight out of the 1930's or something. And black and white? That's so over-played. "Hey, I've got some artsy fartsy movie about the Holocaust or Frankenstein and I think it'll make it more interesting if I do it in black and white." WRONG.

Parlor tricks and film-school pretensions do not a blockbuster make. From what I've seen in the previews, this movie is just a big ripoff of the Steve Spielberg classic, "Jurassic Parks 1 and 2". Dinosaurs? Please, didn't Barney take the wind out of the "T-Rex as evil-doer" convention once and for all? Plus I could totally see the zipper for the guy's monkey suit.

The one bright spot of this movie, humor-wise, seems to be the hilarious savages who inhabit Monkey Island. I laughed my ass off at these coconut heads. Ooga booga, indeed!

Sure, I'll probably break down and RENT this movie sometime next year, because I've never been one to keep up my promises or follow-through on my convictions but I'm only going to see it because I'm sure that Tenacious D must do a song in it, at some point cuz I saw that their lead singer is in this. I'd just love to see those guys do a nifty, swingin' jazz number with flappers and men in fur coats proclaiming "23 skidoo!" as they fall to their death on the Chrysler Building.

And speaking of "Rent", that movie looks great! I saw a preview of that too where some puppets sing a song about AIDS and it looked pretty good, you could barely see the strings.

On a personal note, I want to wish everyone an early Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my Jew friends.

If a bear shits in the woods...

I'm not really sure how to end that. Anyway, have you seen these fucking commercials? Anybody? Anybody? It's a family of animated bears hawking Charmin toilet paper.

I know taking a dump is a delicate issue in this country and the commercials need to dance around the fact that they're advertising paper you wipe on your ass to clean up fecal matter, but let's fucking grow up here.

IT'S POOP. EVERYBODY DOES IT. THERE'S EVEN A BOOK THAT ATTESTS TO THAT FACT.

Yet they still feel the need to call it "toilet tissue" as if your ass is sneezing or something. What the fuck?

So you get these commercials where cartoon characters with no genitals or even an ass crack talk about shitting in the woods. Apparently it's ok (even cute) if animals do it.

The result is (to normal people) much, much worse than the truth. You get a teenage bear gleefully pulling on a roll of tp with reckless abandon saying "I'm gonna need all this!"

Am I the only one who thinks that's gross? In case you missed it, the bear is saying, "I'm gonna take an enormous shit!" And don't bears take like 15 pound poops? How is this better than someone coming out and being honest and saying "our toilet paper feels soft when you're wiping your ass?"

Don't get me wrong, I'm not all for the awful, gory details. I'm glad the liquid they use in tampon commercial demonstrations is blue. I don't want to see people actually taking a dump but I also don't want to see cartoon bears doing it either. Toilet paper is all basically the same anyway. Why do they need to advertise for this?

And continuing my trend of throwing in random thoughts that don't have anything to do with the main point of my blog, next time you're bitching about paying 14 bucks for a ticket at the Arclight, think of me, sitting in the dark in a shitty theater in Florida trying to watch Harry Potter while some spoiled dipshit keeps kicking the back of my chair and some old geezer has the whole movie explained to him by his 400 year old wife in a normal speaking voice. Uh oh, my kid has to go to the bathroom, better announce it loudly to the rest of the theater, after all, Eric COULD ALMOST HEAR THE FUCKING MOVIE FOR THREE SECONDS.

Ok, I'm done.

Worst band ever - the Barenaked Ladies

Seriously, they suck. You might not even realize it because you probably haven't even thought about them in seven years or so, but they do. I haven't even heard that much of their music but what I have heard is so god-awful, that even if the rest was on par with the Beatles, it still wouldn't cancel out all the horrible musical energy these douchebags have created.

Now I'm not one to back up my wild accusations with "facts" or "reasonable arguments" but consider this:

The Barenaked Ladies are from Canada.

Yeah, that's right. APOLOGY ACCEPTED. Has Canada ever put out any good music? To answer this question with anything but "No" immediately labels you as a retard.

"But what about Celine Dion?" - if you're anyone but someone's 50 year old mother, you're either 600 pounds or Harvey Firestein.

"Rush is good, though" - you are 35 and live at home with your parents (and not because you had heart surgery).

"Are you kidding? Bryan Adams is awesom--- OW, THAT HURTS, WHY ARE YOU BEATING ME ABOUT THE HEAD, NECK, FACE AND CHEST???"

And that's it. There is no other Canadian music. Since I have proven that all Canadian music is horrible, beyond a reasonable doubt, the Barenaked Ladies must also be horrible.

Oh sure, I could point out that the only people who like the Barenaked Ladies are usually women who are less than "asthetically pleasing". I guess they think, "hey, that lead singer is kinda fat too, I bet he wouldn't mind this water park innertube I call a mid-section." But I'm not gonna do that.

I'm also not going to point out that they're the only people in the world who don't realize they're in a joke band. I saw an interview with these clowns where they were talking about how they want to be taken as serious musicians. They had written a song about one of their friends who died or something and they started getting choked up. I couldn't believe it. If I had been interviewing these goons, I would have slapped them and said, "Hey dickbags, you're one step down from Dr. Demento. Weird Al has more street cred than you. Now shut the hell up and go be the opening act for Carrot Top."

This is off-topic, but I also realized why women go back and sleep with their loser ex-boyfriends: It's so they can have sex without raising their total number of people they've slept with! I'm so proud of myself for figuring that out I just had to add it into this blog even thought it has nothing to do with the Barenaked Ladies, who suck.

So in summation, the Barenaked Ladies are the worst band ever and if you like them, there's something wrong with you and you should probably get a lobotomy or something like that. I know that mainstream psychiatry doesn't really do those anymore but I'm sure you could find some back alley abortionist or crack addict who would.

And hockey sucks too.

Homeless people should give me money

Today I found out I most likely won't be getting any more disability. I was counting on this money to support me while I got re-settled back in LA but the doctor who decided I was fine to go back to work before he even examined me decided that wasn't in the cards.

So now here is where I stand:

No job.
No income.
No place to live.
$250,000 in medical debt (yes, that's after insurance)

250 grand. That's how much I owe. And it's probably 240,000 dollars more than my entire net worth.

I am looking forward to getting back to LA because there are no homeless people in Florida. At least not in my parent's development. Why, you ask? Cuz I can't wait to zing one of them. I've got it all planned out.

Homeless guy: Give me some money.

Me: No, you give ME some money.

Homeless guy: Why should I give you money, fancy pants? I'm homeless.

Me: Yeah, you're at zero.

Homeless guy: Your point?

Me: I'm $250,000 in debt. I need 250 grand to be at zero.

Homeless guy: Yeah, but you should be thankful you're alive and you have friends and family who love you and support you.

Me: Shut up and let me feel sorry for myself.

The worst thing that happened in 2005

Looking back at 2005, I see a lot of hardships but I have a lot to be thankful for. You would probably think I would list "aortic arch reconstruction surgery" as the worst thing that happened to me this year, but you would be wrong.

Ironically, the worst thing that happened to me in 2005 occurred at Disneyworld. You might recall I referred to Disneyworld as "self-actualization" camp, but even I didn't know how prophetic that would be. I thought I was going there to merely live my dreams. Little did I know, I would be forced to re-examine my whole life and endure a painful process of rebirth and reinvention that would ultimately culminate in a whole new Eric Filipkowski.

The incident I speak of that sparked all this soul-searching took place at EPCOT. A theme park unlike any other. Where the future meets the cultures of the world at a giant Christmas tree underneath a gleaming monorail.

I was on day seven of my journey. I had spent 3 or 4 days at EPCOT already at this point and had seen pretty much everything. I said pretty much. Remember that, it will be important.

So anyway, I was there with Bordo, Violet and Yury and we were all pretty tired at that point. I remember the exact time. It was 6:58 pm on Sunday, December 18. We had been around to most of the countries and Yury and Bordo had ridden Mission: Space. They had gotten a Fastpass ticket to return to Test Track at 8:05 pm so we were killing time in Future World so they could ride that, right at their allotted time and then we could all run over to Japan for our 8:45 dinner reservation at the Teppanyaki Dining Room.

Anyway, we were outside the Imagination Pavilion and I thought, "Great, let's all go watch 'Honey, I Shrunk the Audience' before Test Track." Seemed like a good plan, no? Well, my "friends" decided they would take a "smoke break" before we watched the movie, in what would ultimately prove to be a fatal error.

You see, most of the pavilions in Future World close at 7 pm. I think you see where this is going. They keep the big rides open til closing but "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience" is no longer quite as popular as it used to be. So while my nicotine-addict friends were getting their "fix", I strolled up to the entrance and was informed that the ride was now closed. If they had been with me, the guy would have snuck us in for the very last viewing, but of course, they were hundreds of feet away at the designated smoking area in front of the Land.

Now I know what you're thinking, I could have gone in alone. But I didn't go to self-actualization camp to ride all the rides by myself. Well, actually I did, but that all took place on Cartmanland Wednesday. Sunday was a time for friends to hang out together and experience things as a group. Apparently the only group they had in mind was the one where you all get lung cancer.

I walked away, dejected and ran into my friends. "Let's go watch the movie!" they said. I kept walking, right past them.

"Where are you going?" they asked, confused.

"Forget it, it's too late." I said.

They called after me and I was forced to explain the situation to them. I had missed "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience". I was devastated. I knew at that moment how alone I truly was in the world. How alone we all are. I thought I could count on my friends but they had let me down. Apparently my dreams weren't important to them. Not as important as getting cancer, anyway.

There are a million what-ifs that run through my brain as I try, in vain, to fall asleep each night. I attempt to comfort myself with the thought that I can go watch "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience" at Disneyland when I get back to California, but it's not the same. It doesn't have the terrible ten minute Kodak Commerical/Pre-show featuring those awful kids singing "True Colors" by Cindy Lauper.

And sure, I could just have gone to see it the next day or go with my family when I return to Disneyworld in January, but that's not really the point, is it? The point is I went to Disneyworld to realize my true self. And sadly, I did.

My true self is not the carefree, swingin' free spirit, beloved by all. Generous of spirit, sound of body and mind. I know this is how you all see me, but it's a charade.

I am a sad, lonely, broken man who has come to realize that life is meaningless and that we are all alone in this world and that even at the Greatest Place on Earth, we can be betrayed by the ones we trust the most. Sold out for some simple pleasures of the lining of the lungs.

Well guess what, world? You win. Fuck you. I give up. I'll get my three-piece suit and my 9 to 5 job on Wall Street. The house, the wife, the kids. The entry-level European luxury sports sedan with x-Drive and On Star standard for the first 3 years.

Are you happy now? Cuz I don't even know what that word means anymore.

I'm broken and this time the best surgeons in the world couln't rip open my chest and fix me again.

I hate the music industry

I hope everyone had a good christmas and whatnot. I haven't blogged in a while so here's a half-assed entry.

Read this. It makes me irate.

Isn't that the worst? What a bunch of fucking jerks. Seriously, they can suck it. I wish people were still downloading music illegally so that these assholes would get put out of business forever.

I mean, come on, how much money do these pricks need? Six figures for some stupid song to play for five seconds in a goddam tv show? What the hell is that? This is why I didn't buy a cd for three years. As it is, I only buy music on itunes now. I don't know if this really helps anything but even if I'm just stiffing the record companies out of a few bucks, even if it's only in my own mind, then I'll do it.

Dear music industry: I hope you get cancer and your dick falls off.

OK, I'm done.

My report from self-actualization camp

Hi everybody, I'm having fun at camp. it's raining today, so I'm online. pickles just left, bordo, violet and yury should be here soon. just three days left. so far everything has been great, I've been on every ride (I can ride) at least once. had some great dinners all over the resort. saw the fireworks from the top of the contemporary resort hotel. me and pickles rented mini speedboats and took those out. I even got to ride in the front of the monorail and got a special co-pilots' license. I am seriously thinking about changing my career path. anyway, I have some pictures up on my disney blog, so check them out if you get a chance.

So long, jerkass!

In case you're at work and you're wondering why I haven't been constantly harassing you via instant messenger, it's because I'm not home. I'm at self-actualization camp. You may know it by its alternate name, "Disneyworld". For the uninitiated, this is the one in Florida.

Finally, after a year of being held down by the world and punched in the nuts, I am grabbing life by the horns and living my dreams. I will be at Disneyworld for a week, staying at the Port Orleans Riverside Resort.

During this time, I will be visited by several of my friends. I'll be going up to Orlando on Monday with my mom. Then Fresh Pickles will arrive on Thursday morning. That night, we'll attend Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party. That should be fun, they have free cocoa.

Saturday, Pickles leaves and is replaced by my friends, Bordo, Violet and my Russian Jew Lawyer, Yury.

Tuesday is when I check out of the hotel, but I won't be going to the parks, I'll be going somewhere else on Monday. Maybe home. We'll see.

So all in all, it should be a fun time. My only concern is that it will be crowded. If you've ever seen the South Park called "Cartmanland" then you pretty much know my opinion on long lines.

So anyway, I'll be back online December 20th, at the latest, so chillax. I know you miss me but daddy has to do this. It's not that he doesn't love you very much, but mommy is fat and ugly and daddy needs to be with some women who are hot. So shut the hell up.

Why can't you be happy for me? I'm living my dreams!

I'm so lazy

I don't know if I'll ever write another short story again. Ever since I've discovered I'm a super talented artist, all I want to do is draw cartoons.

In case you haven't checked it out yet, I have a new website, www.imnottalented.com. And yes, that title is meant to be ironic, but you'll soon see that for yourself.

Writing is hard work. It sometimes takes me upwards of 45 minutes to an hour to write a short story. That's a lot of typing. And thinking.

Cartoons, on the other hand, are easy. A monkey could do this shit, it's so simple. At least when you're artistic like me. Maybe they're hard for other people but I'm really good. I hate to use the term 'genius' but if the "really talented at art" shoe fits...

I know people make a big deal about comic books and shit like that but seriously, this is kid's stuff. I should know, I'm the best.

God, this is what I mean, writing is hard. How many times do I have to state that I am quite simply, the best artist who ever lived in the world ever before you stupid, untalented people will get it through your thick, unartistic skulls?

You make me sick, but unfortunately you're not even fit to clean up my puke. You just wouldn't "get it".

R.I.P.

Why I'm not in LA yet

This one is a repost from my new cartoon site, I'm Not Talented, dedicated to my friend, Lindsay Stidham.



Click to enlarge. Comments please!

By (un)popular demand...

Here's my second web cartoon. This one is about my friend Lauren Ashpole.



Click to enlarge! Comments are welcome, as always.

Ms. Pacman Speaks Out Against Abortion

PACLAND – Former 80’s video game icon and Born Again Christian, Ms. Pacman, has come out in favor of a constitutional ban on abortion.

“I think it’s murder, plain and simple,” she said to a small gathering of reporters outside her home in suburban Pacland.

Ms. Pacman made headlines in the eighties with her outrageous behavior and numerous run-ins with the law. She split from longtime companion, Pacman, and was rumored to have been pregnant with his child at some point in time. There was even speculation that her termination of the pregnancy was a contributing factor in the split. Ms. Pacman confirmed these rumors, admitting that she did have an abortion.

“It’s true, I’m a baby-killer,” an emotional Ms. Pacman stated, “but I, with help from the Love of Jesus, have come to see the error of my ways. Millions of innocent children are being butchered each year and I intend to put a stop to it. I urge this administration not to cave to the pressures of the liberal, Jewish-controlled media and stand up for what they and the majority of decent, God-fearing Americans believe: that abortion is wrong!”

When reached for comment, Pacman seemed to dismiss Ms. Pacman’s statements as just another ploy for attention. “S—t, that b—ch is crazy. Yeah, I knocked her up. Then she found out I was cheating on her with Winky the Ghost and to “get back at me”, she goes and has an abortion. Where was her Jesus then? My guess is she’s probably looking for money.”

This is not the first time Ms. Pacman and abortion have made the news. In the early 90’s, Ms. Pacman came forward with allegation that the ghosts she made millions of dollars devouring in front of her adoring fans were actually the lost souls of aborted fetuses, though, at the time, she was highly in favor of this practice.

Now Ms. Pacman seemed particularly repentant about her earlier actions. “Killing babies is wrong, but eating their souls is even worse. That’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I only hope those poor little devils are at peace, somewhere inside my stomach or intestinal region. Or if they’ve been pooped out, hopefully they are swimming freely with the dolphins in the ocean. But if they aren’t—“

Ms. Pacman was then urged to stop speaking by her lawyer.

The White House had no comment on her statements.