||[30 Aug 2007|10:59pm]
This will probably be the only entry whose subject actually has something to do with it. Well, if you haven't already figured it out, I made a new username. The time that I created "reznor_ismy_god," I was quite the infatuated Nine Inch Nails fan. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy Nine Inch Nails, but the more I look at it, it looks as though I am obsessed with Trent Reznor. I never was, and perhaps never will be - considering that nowadays his music is not up to par and that he looks like that muscular uncle who stays quiet at Thanksgiving dinner /end corny joke. It was some kind of odd joke that I never really appreciate all too much anymore, for that matter. I also find it frustrating when folks perceive me as some kind of Trent Reznor fanatic. I very much dislike fanaticism, for it is quite immature (look at your local anime or Harry Potter convention). Since LiveJournal makes you pay a ridiculous $15 fee to change a fucking internet name, I deem it pathetic. So, if you kids care about me, you may go on and add:
I will gladly add you back, kiddos.
||[28 Aug 2007|02:17am]
I think I have found my arch nemesis in terms of vulgarity and the gross factor. I can watch surgery up the ass, watch a man set himself on fire, watch documentaries about human roadkill, and laugh at people's heads being mauled by helicopter blades, but today I had found my ultimate superior limit. As a person who has phobias in relation to dots and skin diseases, and chickpeas (those bitches look as though they could come to life), I do recommend "Googling" these terms:
fetus in fetu
|Orange-Glazed Pig's Feet
||[24 Aug 2007|01:22am]
1. What Time Is It: 12:24PM
2. What is your name? Christina
3. What is your birthday? July 13
4. Do you have a job? if i didn't i'd be fucking dead by now, considering the current state of the economy
5. If yes, where? Rebublic of Bananas
6. If no to #5, Where do you want to work? my dream job was to be on Mystery Science Theater 3000, no joke
7. Do you have a car? yes
8. What kind of car do you have/want? 2002 black nissan maxima, but owning a 1969 dodge charger wouldn't hurt
9. Movie: grindhouse
10. Song: mr. bungle - "the air-conditioned nightmare"
11. Band: faith no more
12. Group: isn't that the same motherfucking thing as band? fucking survey makers, man
13. Singer: patton!
14. TV Show: jackass
15. TV Channel: the one that i am going to create in five years that only airs mystery science theater 3000, b-movies, and shit that makes you hurl. battlefield earth will be aired every night at 6pm.
16. Actor: paul newman or al pacino, can't decide
17. Actress: juliette lewis, i guess
18. Comic: tales from the crypt cracks me up
19. Magazine: Alarm
20. Food: ranch/bacon fries
21. Snack: everything
22. Drink: everything, man
23. CD-ROM Game: fuck you i play the console, fucker
24. Board Game: i can tell you that i kick ass in Sequence
25. Card Game: shit makes me lose money faster than when i go food shopping
26. Number: fuck math
27. Cartoon: very cliche to say that it may very well be family guy because i crack up every goddamn time that i watch it
28. Character: jules from pulp fiction
29. Disney Character: donald because not only is he awesome, but duck tastes awesome as well
30. Colour: green
31. Hair Color: don't really care, come on
32. Time of the day: when i'm in a deep sleep and don't think at all about horrible things such as the movie Showgirls
33. Day of the week: saturday, of course
34. Week of the month: what the fuck? one that i'm not on my period or fucking bloated like john goodman
35. Month of the Year: i don't pay attention to stupid fucking things. i don't sit down for a couple minutes a day and ask myself such questions
LOVE LIFE ETC:
36. Do you plan on having children? probably not. don't want my already lack of tits to be sagging
37. Do you want to get married? surely
38. How old do you want to be when you have your first child? when i am way past dead, become a deity and shit out mike patton-like demons from my nostrils
39. How old do you want to be when you’re married? perhaps around 30 or so
40. Would you have kids before marriage? haha fuck no
41. What would you name the boy? kevin bacon nguyen
42. What would you name the girl? carol channing nguyen
43. Are you a virgin? such petty things to reveal on the worldwide web. shame on you
44. Do you have a crush? crushes are for the immature and pre-pubescent
EITHER-OR (PICK WHICH ONE YOU PREFER)
45. Music/TV: music, motherfucker!
46. Guys/Girls: i eat cock, man. no pussy
47. Green/Blue: green
48. Pink/Purple: told you i don't like pussy
49. Sleep/Stay Up: insomniac
50. Summer/Winter: sorry but i kind of like to feel whether i have toes or not
51. Spring/Fall: flowers over soggy leaves any day
52. Night/Day: both suck
53. Hanging Out/Chilin: aren't they the same fucking thing? fuck you, man. you can't even make a fucking survey
54. Friends/Lovers: they should be associated separately. fucking dolt
55. Cold/Warm: warm? who the hell
56. Fast/Slow: haha
57. New/Old: lame
58. Dark/Light: super lame
59. Sparkle/Shine: mr. clean?
60. Peach/Plum: plum
61. Apple/Orange: orange
62. Laundry/Dishes: dishies
63. Christina/Britney: i would love britney has a bodyguard
64. Limp Bizkit/KoRn: i like how you capitalized the "R" like a true korn fan
65. Rock/Rap: this looks like a genre that mike patton is always accused of creating. LAME!
66. Pop/R&B: you're fucking stupid
WHAT DO YOU THINK? (PUT WHAT FIRST COMES TO MIND WHEN YOU SEE THE FOLLOWING WORDS :)
67. Glass: heineken
68. Shake: milkshake
69. Club: studio 54 and cocaine
70. Sing: celine dion
71. Loud: metallica LOLOLOLZ
72. Garcia: jerry
73. Hair: pompadour
74. Ching: chingy and his stupid "right thur, right thur!" song
75. Money: oops read that as "monkey" for a second
76. Work: cubicle
78. Play: blocks
79. 4002: a horrible spin-off of mystery science theater 3000
80. Betty: page
81. Sara: pastries
82. Dog: catdog
83. Brain: looks like chewed gum
84. Nick: nickelodeon sucks balls
85. Frank: sinatra
86. AM: PM
87. FM: stereo
88. PM: time to partaaay
89. Morning: "WHY did i wake up?"
90. Ball: baseball sucks
WHAT DO YOU THINK (WRITE WHAT YOU THINK OF THE FOLLOWING)
91. Eminem: he takes himself too seriously. what the hell happened to him, anyway?
92. Rap: is there such a thing anymore?
93. Teenagers: crackheads
94. Smoking: don't dig the taste, but hey it makes guys look sexy so what can i say
95. Death: death from family guy is the fucking man
96. Life: isn't that a cereal AND an eddie murphy movie?
97. Drinking: i have a huge problem
98. Bomb Threats: in high school we never took that term as seriously as it really is, because all we wanted to do was get out of class.
99. Murder: fucking stupid. nerds gotta get a life
100. Suicide: doesn't solve yours or anybody's problems
101. where's the question?
102. Who is your best friend: these
103? Who is the best person to hang with? questions
104. Who is the sweetest person? are
106. Who's the nicest? completely
107. Who’s the best to talk online with? biased
108. Who's the most blonde? and
109. Who's the weirdest? are
110. Who's the craziest? designed
111. Loudest: for
112. Quietest: catty
113. Smartest: losers
114. Quickest: who
115. Most Trustworthy: rudely
126. Most Honest: judge
127. Most Cheerful: others
||[22 Aug 2007|03:27pm]
I guess I could re-cap about my robo-trip last Friday. Robo-trip. Robotrippin'. Robitussin. Get it? Thought you would. Let's make it clear that every stupid act that I commit comes from being excessively bored; I am not allowed to use my car and yesterday I found out that I am not even allowed to attend sleepovers. That is the kind of horrid household that I live in. You could very well learn a lesson that bad parents are the ones who let their children live restricted lives that lead to boredom. Boredom leads to both time to over think, trouble, and drugs. True story.
So last Friday I made mom drive me to Kerry's house because both of us had nothing better to do than bask in each other's boredom. From her house we walked to the pharmacy and bought two 4oz. bottles of Robitussin for only about 4 bucks a pop. Great deal for a cheap high that works wonders beyond anything one would expect. Being that her sister was home, we broke into her dad's apartment on the other side of town to trip without disturbance, knowing that he wouldn't be home from work until midnight.
Standing in his room, I downed my bottle of shitastic-tasting cough medicine in two gulps. Kerry had a more difficult time because she just wasn't used to tasting such shit. Me? Well, you know me and my skill at swallowing poisonous fluids with utter ease. The shit took a long time to kick in. So long, in fact, that we left her dad's apartment to go eat at a pizzeria. Once at the pizzeria, I started getting the shits and for the first time in my life was incapable of eating junk food placed in front of me. After spacing out and sitting in a restaurant fucking high as hell next to a family eating pizza at the next table, decided to call my mother to give me a ride home so that I could puke in peace.
Once I sat down in the car, I puked everywhere, man. Probably from the motion sickness of just fucking walking to the goddamn car. Dude, the car looked like a fucking pink volcano, I puked so much pink shit out of the window and onto the street. I told my mom that it was food poisoning and that I would never eat at that place again. On the way to Kerry's house, she sat in the back seat trying hard not to laugh at my fucked-up hurling. Later she would tell me over the phone that she puked as soon as she got home. The puke fucking stunk so bad, man. I'd never puked something that smelled somewhat I'm guessing, like yak anus.
When I got home, I lay on the couch in the basement fucking sick as hell for about an hour and puked one more time into the toilet. After the tiredness had gone away, the good times finally started a-rollin'. I started out by watching Carlito's Way on the big-screen. The movie was fucking ten times as exciting, man. Luis Guzman is an ugly fucker! Al Pacino with a Brawny paper towel man beard! Holy shit!
So when the movie was over, I attempted to walk upstairs to take a shower, not knowing that I had dried up puke all over my neck while having just watched a fucking movie. Walking up the pitch-black stairs (for night had already fallen), I thought I was Kirby skipping on clouds. I once had a dream before, many years ago, that I was Kirby jumping on clouds and then all of a sudden jumped into hell and died. But anyway, when I opened the basement door to see my mom cutting my dad's hair in the kitchen, the light hit me like a fucking religious spectacle. At that point, I tried to run to my room, being that if my folks saw me walking like a russian dancer they would know that I was on drugs, not having had food poisoning.
While in my room, I started watching Batman instead. Holy shit motherfucker, Jack Nicholson's head was SO HUGE. At the same time while being astounded by the massive size of his head, completely and adoringly admired the perfection of how straight Kim Basinger's hair was. I also blundered at Michael Keaton's perfect 90-degree-angle-arch eyebrows.
I laughed all the way throughout my shower. At what? I don't know. But I thought that the hot, shower, and cold knobs on the tile wall were spaceship controls and thought that I was in Star Wars. Fucking amazing.
After that, I talked to Kerry over the phone, who had just danced with her wall and tried to communicate with her cat. Earlier in the day, she had tried to fly and flapped her arms outside her window. But didn't plunge two stories onto the ground because she said this to herself: "Kerry NO FLY!"
Our side effects were really varied. She had the robo-itch so badly that she felt like she was on fire and had nightmares. I had such bad diarrhea all night that I shit gravel and was dehydrated by the morning, heard voices in my sleep and had restless leg syndrome for some reason. Alas, when I woke up the next day, I felt fucking good.
Does Dave's shirt not rule?
|Stephen Lynch Sucks Balls
||[21 Aug 2007|06:28pm]
When will this weather go away? It's so travolting, man. Like Battlefield Earth. I remember seeing the commercials for that movie on TV when I was 10 years old, and every time I would ask myself, "Why?" The media just kept shoving and shoving that spoonful of manatee shit down my throat. They even relentlessly did special after special segment on Access Hollywood and Entertainment Tonight about how supposedly spectacular it was going to be. But then again, those shows are experts for picking out what movies that I don't want to see, just so that I'm sure and that my own enlightened mind will never in any way go to see that shit.
Not working and doing nothing at home on such a dreary day as this just leads me to eat even moreso than I already do. So I was standing by the kitchen counter scooping out some Edy's almond mocha fudge ice cream into a cup, until I see the 60-something-year-old fat neighbor approaching the door in the midst of on-and-off rain outside the window. Naturally, I ducked down and sat on the floor behind the cabinets, hoping she wouldn't peep through the windows and knowing that I was home after ringing the doorbell three times.
Seriously, this woman is the biggest waste of time that I have had to live nextdoor to for fifteen years. I've talked about her many-a-time before, and here I am, being bothered by her again. (She talks for an hour at a time, even to the mailman. This is why my mail always comes late in the afternoon.) I sat on the floor in my kitchen against the wall in fear like in some 1990s Harrison Ford movie where his family is hiding in their house as some maniac serial killer is looking through their windows holding a machine gun in his hands.
And what's worse is, my sister was on her computer in the dining room, so I asked her to keep a lookout for when the neighbor walks through our driveway and back to her house. I asked her every two minutes if the neighbor had gone away yet, and for about the next ten or fifteen minutes, she claims that she doesn't see the woman walk past the window. Now come on. No person in their right mind, even this woman, would wait that long in the rain for somebody to answer the fucking door. So I gave up and looked out the window. The woman wasn't there. She left. What the fuck? Did my sister even understand what I was saying? It's not that hard to look out a fucking window. Even if she was looking at her computer screen, you could still detect a person walking by the goddamn window. And a pretty wide window, that is. I might as well shoot myself in the fucking face if she was looking out the back window that is two stories up from the ground.
Now I leave you with a Wikipedia review of Battlefield Earth.
Battlefield Earth (2000)
Battlefield Earth was a box office bomb, earning back only $27.9 million of its $73 million budget and bankrupting Franchise Pictures.
Based on the first half of L. Ron Hubbard's thousand-page novel of the same name, starring John Travolta. Heavily hyped by the Church of Scientology, it had the third worst 3,000-theater-plus opening weekend up to that time. More than one reviewer called the film "Travolting". Rob Vaux called the film a "crime against celluloid". Several describe the pain experienced while watching it. It has a three percent Rotten Tomatoes rating (listing 3 positive reviews out of 96). The film won seven Golden Raspberry Awards, including Worst Picture and Worst Screen Couple (John Travolta and "anyone on the screen with him"). In 2005, an eighth Razzie (for Worst "Drama" of Our First 25 Years) was awarded to the film. Maxim magazine printed, "Even Quentin Tarantino couldn't revive Travolta's career after this movie." To further cement its status in bad cinema, a RiffTrax commentary featuring Kevin Murphy, Mike Nelson and Bill Corbett from Mystery Science Theater 3000 was released in early 2007 after being off-the-air for nearly eight years.
|Ellen Degeneres Sucks
||[15 Aug 2007|11:25pm]
I think I need a hobby. No, seriously. Or maybe a desire in life that is something beyond gastronomy. For most of the week I work, but on days that I don't (this week they're really cutting hours so I have a lot of un-needed free time), I have just gotten way too fucking lazy lately to even talk to anybody. "Eh, if they really cared, they would contact me with something to say other than 'What's up?'" Because clearly, if you, or anybody else asks me "What's up," I really have nothing to say. I have so much of nothing to say that I don't even care about what I have to say, because there is nothing to say. Normally, Shaina would always be the one to talk about pointless shit with that is entertaining and therefore is the cure to all of my boredom spells, but happens to be very busy as of late. I, on the other hand, couldn't give less of a shit about college that I don't even care to take care of my term payment plans.
I called Banana Republic this morning after just two seconds of having been awaken by my alarm, and in a very unprofessional and sleepy manner asked one of my managers if they were going to use my on-call shift today. They didn't, so I went back to sleep for another three hours. Then I baked a pre-made Pepperidge Farm loaf of garlic bread and ate that and a peanut butter-flavored Drumstick ice cream cone for lunch, meanwhile starting my five hours of Arrested Development for the day. I borrowed part of the series from the library a few days ago and have been addicted to it since.
Oh, and I also cleaned both toilets in the house. That was my great accomplishment of the day. As a matter of fact, probably for the next two days because one of my managers told me yesterday that they probably aren't going to need me on Friday, either.
Actually, I think the reason why I've been so restless lately is because after practicing abstinence from eBay for the past three months; after just an innocent intention to browse, searched "Paul Newman," found The Paul Newman Box Set for $20, and bought it right away after being the damned website for only a mere five minutes. This was last week. I expect this box of sexy to come to my fucking doorstep tomorrow.
||[10 Aug 2007|09:56am]
I am exhausted. I have been working every goddamn day of the week from morning until evening. And when I get home, all I do is eat and watch TV because I'm too fucking tired to do anything, like polish my Mike Patton CD's or something.
Before, I have clearly stated that I fucking hated driving. Up to a point, yes. But that was because my mother would always be sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle. Since I had just recently gotten my [much-overdue] license last week, I sort of enjoy just cruising around with music that I prefer. I've had enough of the bullshit of back when I hung out with Lauren and she would shove shitty music down my throat, no matter how much I protested. I can tell you one thing - the only people that I have never been able to shut up were fat people. That's a fact.
Having to put up with this kind of work ethic and concerns about paying for college and other bullshit have made me not want to communicate with many folks anymore. Dude, I am way too fucking tired to speak on the phone to some chick about - well, nothing. Because that's what girls do, you know; we talk on the phone for hours about literally nothing substantially important. Not that I gossip or anything; remember when I started writing that book about "nothing," literally? It's sort of like that. Or in my world, at least.
|PETA Needs a Job
||[06 Aug 2007|07:43pm]
It's shit that shouldn't be taken seriously like this that does piss me off because nobody understands what I'm saying. It's not that hard. So I'm sitting at the table eating dinner, and this commercial comes on the TV about this new Kevin Bacon movie. Being that such an occasion is so rare and well, it's Kevin Bacon, I sarcastically exclaimed, "THERE'S A NEW KEVIN BACON MOVIE!!"
My mom had to be an asshole and say, "You only think it's a good movie just because he's in it." What the fuck? Who the fuck takes Kevin Bacon seriously? So I said, "At least it's better than Harry Potter." (Come on, man. I would much rather see a movie who also has ex-Fred Flintstone actor John Goodman yielding an automatic rifle than kids who fucking go to a magic school and can't stand a certain teacher just because he looks evil. Are you fucking kidding me? I'm sorry but I just can't stand this overdose of Harry Potterade and yak diarrhea shoved down my throat)
So then my mom proceeds to say bullshit like, "What's wrong with this girl? Why is she always twisting the subject around and diverting from the point?" Are you fucking stupid? And then I said, "I meant that it's better than everything else that's out in theaters." Jesus fucking Christ, I don't have anything more to say about that. I never knew that Kevin Bacon could be the subject of such a pathetic argument. At that point I just wanted to shut the fuck up because there was no point in arguing with such a fucknut.
After a minute, my mom claimed that the movie was nothing but a bunch of fighting and killing and that it was stupid. I said, "But that's what you always watch." She didn't answer. How could anyone so seriously contradict themselves that badly and not accept what anyone else is saying, especially when it's right? She fucking watches kung-fu movies up the ass and states that this movie sucks balls. I know it probably isn't as da bomb diggity as Heat or something like that, but it looked decent to me. She just wouldn't leave it at that; and I didn't even say anything about praising Kevin Bacon. She thinks that I'm crazy about the guy just because I talk about him a lot. Dude, I fucking make fun of the dude 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time I secretly tell to myself that he rules.
The movie was called Death Sentence. LOL
|Slipknot Looks Like Fecal Caveman Artwork
||[29 Jul 2007|05:21pm]
Of all things that people have chosen not to include me due to extreme criticism and ridicule, my parents made me go to temple with them today. A buddhist temple, that is. I know we're weird but we wouldn't go jewish that quickly. Yes, buddhism is great in the aspect that you are not forced to give into such bullshit like confession booths, only to be a goddamn hypocrite and sin again afterwards; all you have to do is respect others and think positive. It's pretty much just a religion where you have peace of mind.
But I am still the most staunch motherfucking atheist that has ever crawled out of a vagina. The reason my parents bought me and my sister along today was to pray for my dad's family, all four of whom were lost after the war. They disappeared in terms of us not knowing what the in the fucking hell happened them - they were on their way to the U.S. via raft/boat/shackriddle across the Pacific and were never heard from again. Okay, now walking around an altar to the sound of a bell and putting your hands together ain't physically going to bring anybody back before your eyes, kapeesh? But the only thing I found worthy of showing my face there is that my mindset had to be wishful for my missing relatives.
Another thing that wasn't right was that I physically am not one that is able to sit on their knees. Asshole, have you ever experienced the worst goddamn pain in your life when 120+ pounds of human weight are set on top of your ankles? How the fuck do asians sit like that all the time in prayer? How the fuck do japanese people eat like that? Axl Rose, I know how you feel, asshole. You and your fucking weak ankles and shit. But anyway, I was concentrating more on subtle ways on how to make it that my ankles don't crack into pieces beneath me while in front of a lot of people. Dude, that pain sucked balls. I was in such agony that it took me a couple seconds to stand up. Fuck that shit, man. And I don't know how I could possibly be sitting the incorrect way because how could you not know how to sit on your fucking knees?
||[28 Jul 2007|10:37pm]
I had an awesome day today, believe it or not. Hung out with Amy F. and went to New York and whatnot. There was a goddamn line going all the way around the block just for the fucking Magnolia Bakery. Are people that fucking slow in picking out fucking pastries? Fucking America, man; we're going down the shitter.
But hanging out with Amy was such cool beans. You know what else is cool beans?
Belt buckles with flask and flask holder. It fucking cracks me up, man.