Rasputin...

Was hard to get rid off.

but the thousands of nerdy, ding-dong comic books
that I'm trying to sort out in alphabetical order
and that are cluttering every square inch
of my living room -

are even harder to kill tonight.

Does Darth Have A Special Robot That Helps Him Pee?...



Anyway. To get the rest of it out of my system and to answer the questions of my ever-loyal and always inquisitive fanbase -

I liked the movie. As much as one can like a Star Wars movie post 1999. The acting was not as bad as I expected. Not as bad as I expected, which means that there weren't as many cringe-worthy moments as the previous two. This is basically the equivalent as saying you didn't bleed as much this time as opposed to the last time that you walked into a dark closet full of knives.

Yoda, like always was way to overdrawn. Yoda also speaks like my Vietnamese mother. For a guy nearing 800 years old, you would think that he'd be able to figure out not only the fine points of The Force - but also the proper placement of certain words in the basic galactic language.

Chewbacca. Unnecessary. Why was he in it? Why Jimmy Smits for that matter. It most be nice to twiddle your thumbs endlessly, to wait for royalty checks from NYPD Blue and to wait for George Lucas to tell you when to come over to stand in front of a blue screen. NYPD Blue Screen.

Natalie Portman was pregnant. Natalie Portman was not Garden State material. She was more like...Vegetative State written and directed by Zach Braff.

Emperor Palpatine/Ian Mcdirmid/Mcdirmid/Macdiarmid/Mcdirmiad/ed was a true joy. He's probably been the only actor who has been a joy to watch consistently - both in this new, darn-fangled trilogy and in the last two films of the previous. This is what you get when you hire English, theatrically trained actors. You get actors who can work with horrible dialogue. If I wrote a movie called Kaka doody poo - Sir Alec Guinness would make everything that I wrote sound like the Shakespearean equlivalent of verbal butter. I am the George Lucas of the Internet. YOU make something of it.

Ewan McGregor capped of his infinite patience with a great performance and impersonation. It's amazing to think that Renton is still Obi. Now take all of that hard-earned cash, Ewan - and spend it on extra protection so that you don't end up killing yourself on one of your friggin' motorcycles. I still want to see you in Porno by Irvine Welsh, Andrew McDonald and Danny Boyle.

And I guess that I just cut off half of what I wrote. Damnit. I wrote about my inability to perceive Samuel Jackson as anything as Jules from Pulp Fiction with no hair in a robe. I talked about hoe Anakin could've even been more evil and how Sith are supposed to be like, the equivalent of Galactic Nazis - so that should make Anakin in this movie akin to the spurned, young painter named Adolph Hitler. Ummm...it was funnier the way I wrote it before.

Damn. What a horrible endnote. Now I can't REremember how clever I was previously. This is how we'll all end up, folks. Trying to be as quick, witty and pleasing as we were before. Much like me, you and George.

I DID love the movies. THIS one especially. I'm just being a nerdy dickwad. It made a lot of money. It made everybody happy. Life will go on. The TV show will come out in 2007. Maybe I'll have a kid by then. I probably won't. I was surrounded by fathers and their sons in the Star Wars lines. I was always with friends. George Lucas'll be dead by the time that one of my bastard offspring'll be old enough to even ASK me Star Wars-related questions. With my luck, he'll tell me that Stars Wars is GAY and that he's only interested in FOOTBALL statistics. GAY.

I think that I ended it before with saying that this was probably my first and will probably be my last movie review ever.

And then I said MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU.

And then I called you NERDY BIRDIES.

Horrible ending, but now I'm too lazy to undo what was undone that I REDID.

Dig?

Dip Them In A Vat Of Popcorn Butter And Then Kick Them Down The Hallway...

Babies and kids in theatres. On Thursday I had to tell some twelve year-old kids that I was going to rip their fucking heads off if they didn't shut up and if they continued to kick my seat. Today, I told somebody that something was wrong with their baby and then had to console a crying five-year old whose father left him due to a cellphone call.

Yesterday, I vainly tried to help as an older man suffered a major heart attack in front of me at my restaurant. He died.

This is not related to anything, except that my last couple of days have been both boring, annoying, exciting and sad.

People Are Watching It Right Now...



I'm a big fucking Star Wars geek. Always loved the movie - I'm in my late, late, late twenties...so far...and grew up with an older brother, which helps you get into SW more. Could tell you a million stories about stuff and my recollections, blah, blah...

But why force this kind of crap just because the last movies's coming out?

I can't write or cram a million hilarious, nerdy stories into one night just because ROTS is coming out. I'm watching the damn movie tomorrow. I will be happy. I will get sushi afterwards. I will ask a lot of questions afterwards. My Jedi powers never surfaced, too, by the way.

So FUCK YOU, Palpatine!

Lying, sonofabitch.

You look like shit anyway.

I'm going to bomb the hell out of Toshi Station, just to do it - you bastards.

And The Slow Days Do Nothing To Erase The Constant Changes In Your Face...

and he asked himself
quietly
and politely

to
Stop for a second.

what
what's wrong?
don't bother me
I'm busy
y' see?

No. I don't see.
I see what you don't - and more.
This is the reason of my being. I am the outerworldy essence that exists within you. The outsides of your insides that we all hope that you may, one day, spread to others in your outside world.

I'm not really getting what you're saying, man. You seem like a nice guy and all - but...I'm, kinda like, really doin' a lot of things right now, y' know? Maybe I'll have some time later or sumthin'...

No. You won't. I know this, have seen it...lived it. That is why I speak to you now. I see you. Know you. Am you. I am THE OLDER you. The FUTURE YOU.

......really? Wow. Cool. Huh. Ummm...so, are you, like - rich yet?

(sigh).........

Racecar Backwards...

Just caught myself not knowing what to say on the phone because I was so distracted with something stupid on the computer and just got home from work early and called somebody but couldn't remember who the hell I called so the recording was blank until I said...uuuhhhhh I don't know who this is - but this is Kevynn and...I know I was calling to play poker, so I hope this is somebody that likes to play. Bye.

Things I Hate To Do...

Why does it seem that I know everybody else a lot better than they know me?

Nothing Compares...To You...



Sometimes, I wanna shave my head. It only happens when I'm drunk. I don't know why. Maybe I look at myself in the mirror and feel ashamed. Maybe the monastic and shamefully anti-bacchanal part of me rears its ugly pun-intended head. Or maybe it's because that my friend Tony has a pair of clippers always lying about in his bathroom and every single time that I'm at Tony's - I'm totally wasted.

Mommy And Daddy...Thanks, Raymi...

That's the second cool band that I've found on her website.

Sometimes you discover the best things when everybody else is sleeping.

Axe-murderers, Owls and The Chupacabra know what's up.

It can make one feel old against the squinting glare of the alarm-clocked LED display when you realize that sporadic moments of creative discovery, loud music and writing madness happen when the next work day looms overhead like Pennywise's true galactic form. Stupid spider.

If that didn't make sense, I'll make it so.

I miss writing on paper.

Enough with missing shit and on to dissing shit.

Enough with submissing and on to the next mission.

And They Should...

carry our bodies down by the river after we die. There, they will bathe us, wrap us in fine silk and then let the slow currents whisk us away. They'll watch until we're out of sight - we might get snagged by a jutting rock or a stray bush branch - then, they'll wade into the cold water and free us from the tangles. They'll hope for unimpeded progress down the river...either that, or a peaceful descent down to the river bottom.

Either way...out of sight, out of mind, out of their hands - into someone else's.

Straight down the middle.

Or a slow descent to the bottom.

Either way is fine.

Godspeed.