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Rob's Head
July 26, 2005 I can't believe that it's the last week of July already. I know summers tend to go by fast, but this one is really flying by. I really haven't done shit this summer. Usually in the summer I climb a mountain or two, run a lot, go up to my uncle's cottage in New Hampshire, and generally play outside. But I've done absolutely none of those things so far, and I don't see any of them happening in the next month. I have done a few things this summer. I went with John, Jeff, and Lance on our yearly Six Flags trip. I've been to a few ballgames. And while I haven't climbed any mountains, I have climbed that big hill by the Trailside Museum at the Blue Hills. Oh, and I saw Batman. It's because this summer has been too fucking hot to do anything. We have a pool in our apartment complex, and you'd think I'd use it, but there are too many shitty little pre-pubescent kids running around acting like little dickturds at the pool. It would be one thing if I could just relax and read a book by the pool, but I don't want to listen to shrill, girlish little boys screaming "Suck my dick, motherfucker!" Kills the mood. So, I've been sitting in my air-conditioned apartment, which kind of sucks, because I could sit in my apartment playing video games any time of the year. At the very least I should sit out on my balcony and read a book. I'm too stuck in my routine though. Every night I do the same thing. I come home, watch Charmed, even though it's stupid and shitty, and then watch the Red Sox game. If my wife is lucky, I pull myself away from the game for long enough to have sex. If she's really lucky, I don't. Seriously though, I can do better than this. Before you know it, it's going to be November, and I'm going to be pissy about the cold weather. Starting as soon as I beat Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, I'm going to start making the most of my summer. July 15, 2005 Well, I'm not fired or anything. They were supposed to change the locks on the room next to mine, but my boss made a mistake. That's good, it means that no one knows about all the porn I look at while I'm at work. * * * I saw the guy who played Cooter on the old Dukes of Hazzard show interviewed by Matt Lauer this morning (I never remember if the show with Matt Lauer and Katie Couric is Good Morning America or Today). He's upset about the new Dukes of Hazzard movie. He's not mad that it looks to be horrifically stupid, because, really, the old show wasn't exactly Shakepeare, or even that the producers have tinkered with God's natural design and have made Boss Hogg skinny and Rosco P. Coltrane fat. He's upset that it's not family friendly. If I recall correctly, wasn't the Dukes of Hazzard about two guys running from the law and a girl who wore cutoff jeans that ended just below her crotch. And besides, why is what Cooter thinks important enough to justify a segment on a nationally televised show? Why don't you get the guy who plays Clark Kent's father on Smallville? At least he was an actual Duke boy and is still low-to-moderately famous. Man, if this is how it's going to be, then I guess the guy who played Devin on Knight Rider sure is going to be bullshit about all the dick jokes KITT tells in that movie. July 14, 2005 Happy Bastille Day, bitches. I'm having more Grand Theft Auto moments. Every time I pass a wall that has graffiti on it, I think that I have to remember where it was so I can go back and put a Grove Street tag over it. * * * Weird moment at work today. I was hanging out by the front desk talking to the receptionist when a couple of locksmiths came up and asked for my boss. I said, "She's not here, what's up?" They said, "We just wanted you to know that we changed the locks she asked us to." Me: "Oh, really? What locks did you change?" Them: "The ones to Room 206." Me: "That's my office!" Thankfully I still have my master key, so I can get into my office,
but I'm awfully curious what that's all about. I haven't done anything
that warrants immediate dismissal, so I have to assume there's some
mistake. I'll be asking my boss about that first thing tomorrow.
July 10, 2005 I'm really not very good at video games, especially sports gamesI bought MVP 2005 a few weeks ago, and I finally tore myself away from San Andreas long enough to play a couple of exhibition games. They didn't go well. In my first game, my Red Sox lost to the Yankees 29-0, with Randy Johson pitching a perfect game. Clearly, I needed to work on all facets of my game. I haven't given up more than fifteen runs since, but I still can't hit a lick. The only game I've won when I played as the Mets so I could use Pedro Martinez. He managed to hold the Devil Rays to five runs and I actually scored 8. I should probably mention that I switched the difficulty level to Rookie from Professional for that one game. What can I say, I suck. It'll probably take a bit more practice before I get good enough at it for me to attempt playing a season. I think I'll be holding off on that until I'm done with San Andreas though. I find San Andreas pretty frustrating at certain points, because, again, I suck at video games, but at least in San Andreas you can blow off some steam by just fucking around and murdering civilians if you find yourself stuck somewhere. Unfortunately, in MVP, you can't just go off on someone when you get annoyed, even if you're playing Kenny Rogers. July 7, 2005 I know movie reviews are John's thing, but I just got back from War of the Worlds. That's the type of summer blockbuster (didn't you once upon a time have to actually have to sell a lot of tickets to be considered a blockbuster? Now it seems like movies are awarded that title before they're even released) I usually avoid spending money on. And I didn't spend money on this one either. I got gift certificates to AMC theaters for my birthday, and I have plenty of time to kill, so I went down on my "lunch" break. It wasn't all that bad. Tom Cruise is sucky, and I don't buy him for one second as a blue collar crane operator and deadbeat dad. I've actually always disliked Tom Cruise, I'm not just hating on him for being an obnoxious nutbag running around yelling about anti-depressants and flaunting his child bride. Anyway, he's crappy, but it's a pretty straightforward plot consisting mostly of him running, hiding, and freaking out, so there's not much he could do to fuck it up. The movie is a lot like Signs (or, you know, the novel War of the Worlds). It's not concerned with the larger aspect of Earth versus the Martians, though I say there should be a sequel where we take it to the fuckers. It's all about how one family handles an alien invasion. This is where I think the movie suffers in comparison. There was a lot more going on with the family in Signs. I cared about what happened to them. In War of the Worlds, I abstractly thought it might be nice if Dakota Fanning didn't get vaporized by an alien death ray. Actually, now that I think about it, it would have been pretty fucking funny if they did that near the end of the movie. She's just standing there looking cute, and then all of the sudden, "Zzzzst!" and she's dust. But the movie is still decent. It looks nice, gives you a few spooky, scary moments, and adequately conveys the sense of how much it sucks when your entire world is methodically being eradicated. The first two thirds or so of the movie are much better than the last third. The problem is that you know how it ends, the aliens all catch a cold and die. When HG Wells originally wrote the story that was probably an original and interesting twist ending. However, knowing that that's what happens, that human kind has no part in repelling the invaders, you're pretty much just reduced to rooting for Tom Cruise to live as long as it takes for the aliens to get sick and die. The climactic scene where he shoves a grenade up an alien tripod's ass isn't bad, but it's not really that satisfying as the culmination of his quest for his family's survival. I really was hoping that they would come up with a different ending. Something similarly unexpected, but actually unexpected. I also find it somewhat implausible that this advanced alien race who has been planning this invasion for millenia never took germs into consideration. All in all, the movie was a fantastic way to kill two and a half hours for free. It's not retarded, like Independence Day or Godzilla, but it's not brilliant either. I'm pretty demanding when I spend ten bucks for a movie, so I probably wouldn't recommend it, but anyone who's happy to be moderately entertained for that money would probably be happy with War of the Worlds. July 6, 2005 I've been playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas now for a few weeks, and I have something to say to all those people who think that video games, this video game in particular, have too much influence on children. You're absolutely right. I'm 29 years old, and this game is exerting way too much influence over me. As I'm sitting here at work on a shitty, rainy day, I'm thinking of how little I want to ride the T home and how simple it would be to just drag someone out of their car and ride home. Of course, it's not that easy. I'm not as big and strong as CJ, and chances are that people would put up more of a fight if I tried to jack them. Also, most parked cars in the real world are locked. This is a good thing, of course, since if the police come after me, I don't have the handy map to direct me to the nearest Pay'n'Spray. However, driving my own car is presenting a problem. I constantly have the urge to run red lights, drive on whichever side of the road I want, and run down pedestrians on a whim. And I actually could do all of those things. Probably best that I don't though. At the very least, it's probably best to save before I try it, so I can just restart my life from that point if I end up getting in too much trouble. I think I'm getting a little too emotionally invested in the game. I actually called Jeff the other day because I was pissed at him for not telling me that Grove Street was about to get set up. Looked me right in the eye and never said nothing. Thanks, Jeff. At least I have real friends, like Cesar, who will watch my back. When I decided to go back to Los Santos, even though I wasn't supposed to, I was honestly offended by the sight of all those Ballas strolling around the territories I had won in the gang wars. Then, to add insult to injury, I see them walking around on Grove Street. Grove Street! Right in front of my fucking house. Motherfucker. A'it, a'it, that's cool. Have fun now, while I'm stuck up in San Fierro. But just be aware that some niggas are gonna get laid the fuck out when Carl Johnson comes back to town. Busters.
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