Complain to me about something.
If I like it, I'll put it on the page.
Here are examples of the format I prefer.
STORY COMPLAINTS
2009
A FATEFUL FAVOR (By THAD) - So I usually go to bed pretty late, since I stay up and work on storyboards and songs, and sometimes just watch TV until 4 in the morning. Anyway, I passed out around 4-4:30, then got a rude awakening from my mom at 6 in the morning saying that a friend of the family needs a favor. The favor: Going to Pasadena to pick up his son, whose car stalled on his way to court, and needs to be in Glendale by 8am. So even though I don't really know the kid, I went and picked him up and got him to court on time. He thought I knew how to get to the court, because, in his words "well, I would tell you how to get there, but you're a grungy looking guy with long hair, so I know you've been to court before." Actually, I've never had to go to court for anything, but yeah, I guess my look attracts police sometimes. Anyway, on my way home, I get pulled over for doing 45 in a 30 zone (maybe because I was tired and in a hurry to get home and SLEEP). Okay, well, check it out. The cop was on the side of the road already and motioned for me to pull over, so I slowed down, and looked for a reasonable spot to pull over so I wouldn't be blocking traffic. It was Tujunga Canyon Road, which is a very winding, very narrow street, that had almost no space to pull over without blocking the other cars. I slowed down to look for a safe place to pull over, but didn't find one until almost reaching Foothill (the next main cross street) which when the lanes opened up, I could finally pull over to where it was legal to stop. A few seconds later, I see the police car with its lights on speeding up Tujunga Canyon, then pulling up behind me. When I roll down my window, the cop says "Didn't you see me motion you to pull over?" and I said "Yes, sir, I was just looking for a safe place to do that." He goes into his car after taking my license and registration and after 5 minutes of waiting, I find out that he's citing me not only for speeding, but for evading an officer. He actually thought I was trying to get away from him! I told him, "Sir, can I please get you to reconsider the evading part, because all I was doing was looking for an open enough space to pull over." The cop just said "You could have turned around and found space on the other side, or found a closer side street. Either way, it's not my problem, if you want to fight it, tell it to the court." So there it is... I have to go to court for the first time in my life after doing a favor for someone by taking them to court so dreadfully early in the morning. What a fucked up coincidence! And also, shit, it wasn't like I sped up after he motioned for me to pull over... I didn't turn on some random street and hide, I slowed down and stopped further down the same road. I don't understand how that can be considered evading the police. Anyway, now I have to go to court in a few weeks and I have no idea what the cost or sentence will be for "evading police" and I already have almost 3,000 dollars in dental work I need. I owe 600 already for previous fillings and X-rays and shit. Now THIS!? I know it's a shitty way of looking at it, but I can't help but feel that if I didn't do the favor, this wouldn't have happened to me. I thought I was doing a good thing, and it turned out to be one of the worst mornings of my life. Also, I failed to mention that I've only gotten a ticket one other time in my life, three years ago.. and my insurance JUST went down from that one incident. Now this happens. Great timing, huh?
2006
THE HAWAII NOTES (By THAD) - I had a girlfriend who moved to Hawaii a few months after going out with her. It took me 6 months to save up the money and finish some business in California before being able to fly out to see her. Well, I'm just going to copy and paste the notes I wrote in Hawaii since the entire story is way too long to type out.
This first one I wrote as soon as I got off the plane:
"6 months of waiting, 5 hours on the plane, and now I'm in the condo, all alone, waiting for Alysia to come home from work. Yep, she actually works the night I fly in. So now I'm waiting till 3 in the morning for her to come home. Seems like this whole year has just been one long wait, huh? Siiigh, you know, she didn't even seem that happy to see me."
This next one I wrote just two days later, as a response to the fact that I was sending out mass emails to my friends called MY COUNTDOWN TO HAPPINESS which told of when I'd be leaving and how long I would be gone for:
"COUNTDOWN TO DISAPPOINTMENT AND PAIN
That's what it should have been called. Alysia just broke up with me. Why did she have me fly all the way out here? What really hurts is I didn't even get to kiss her at all... not really. A peck that was backed away from while she left for work the first night I was here. Didn't even get a genuine kiss out of this whole fucking trip. Now I'm stuck for 6 days with a girl who just can't bring herself to show any affection for me. I'm feeling very cold. It should be hot... probably is for most people... but I feel like I'm in a damned freezer. I can't stop shivering. I feel like I'm going to throw up, even though my stomach is empty. HALF A YEAR!!! That's how long I looked forward to this! Nothing else mattered. Anything that would normally make me happy didn't mean shit because I wanted to be with her so badly. That's the only thing I fucking cared about. And not even a real kiss... God this hurts. Physically as well as emotionally... like my stomach is drowning in acid. How the fuck am I going to get through 6 more days???"
And the final blow:
"Just last night, I found out why my girlfriend had been acting so fucked up and distant toward me. Can you believe this gets worse? Turns out she's been throwing coke and ecstacy parties while I've been gone, and she's cheated on me with at least 5 guys within this 6 month time. I met one of them at a bar last night, and he told me the truth. Funky looking dude with tattoos all over, and piercings covering his face. I was like "You're Dan?" and he's like "Yeah, hi" and I said "uhhh, I'm Alysia's boyfriend," and he was like "Cool, I used to date her for 3 weeks" and I was like "I don't think you understand... I've been her boyfriend for about 8 months." And his face just dropped and he was like "Awww man, I'm so sorry!" So as soon as I got back here, I woke her up (2am) and kept her up till 4am telling her that I ran into her old buddy and just stared her down the whole time telling her how fucked up and shitty she was. About an hour and a half after the scold session, I finally said "You need to get me the fuck out of here as soon as possible. I thought I could stick around and still have fun and be friendly with you, but now it's impossible." Oh, here's another thing. It was up to her to purchase that return flight only 8 days later, and now I know why she did that, she must have known I was bound to find out what's really been going on if I stayed any longer. Also, I paid her 200 bucks when I got here, the flight to come out here was 144. Now the rest of it was going toward the return flight, even though it wasn't even my decision. Plus I've given her about 30 or more bucks toward groceries and shit, even though I haven't even been eating much except a couple sodas here and there, and I've eaten a few sandwiches. Yet just the other day, before the revelation, she had me pay for a taxi because she didn't want to walk for like 20 minutes more after we took a hike and it was like a 10 dollar cab ride. Then she said "Oh, this'll just come out of what you owe me for groceries" like I hadn't already paid her way more than I was planning on consuming. So I told her this morning, "This is not the fucking trip I paid for, and I've already given you way too much money. I'm not giving you another dime." So whatever it costs to fly me back early is all on her. She owes me that much! Anyway, that's the story. I found out even more fucked up things, like details on other people she's slept with, including her manager at the store she's been working at. The list of horrors continue, but I'm going to stop right here. I don't have the stomach to type EVERYTHING I found out."
2005
SERIES OF SHITTY EVENTS (By THAD) - Our story begins with a girl who has blue hair. This would be my girlfriend, who I was dropping off in Pasadena one morning. After she gets dropped off, I make it about two blocks from her house (well not her house, but the house she was staying in at the time) and I get T-boned by some black dude. He had a stop sign and I didn't, but I guess he just went ahead without checking and hit me pretty hard in the passenger side. So I pull over and walk down to where his car ends up stopping. He says, "Let's just take your car down to my uncle's house and he'll fix it for you." Uh... sounds kind of suspicious, don't you think? Well anyway, despite his claiming that calling the police was unnecessary, they were indeed called by a neighbor who witnessed the accident. Too bad I couldn't keep a black guy with tattoos waiting for half an hour, because all he gave me was an insurance card, and left before I got anything else. So I wait on the curb for about 20 minutes after the guy ditches the scene. Finally a cop comes and takes a look at the damage, but then tells me that he can't report an accident if the other guy isn't there. Okay, well... not much I can do about that now. So while attempting to drive back home, I hear this horrible scraping sound only a block and a half later. The bent metal was scraping against my back tire. I pulled into a gas station and had to change the tire to my little clown tire, which was small enough to where the metal wouldn't scrape against it. I make it home and get on the phone with the insurance people, who tell me they can't report an accident until a weekday. So I'd have to wait. Oh, here's something else that bothered me... the address on the insurance card said Rialto, CA. That's a long way from Pasadena. So two days later, it's Monday. Time to call about that little accident. Hmmm, turns out no one with that name had insurance there... or more specifically, their insurance had expired in 2004. Something else I forgot to mention, the name on the card was an unusual name that I had never heard before. I figured it was because he was black. Different cultures have different names. There was even a middle initial, so I had my friend look it up on a people search thing he had hacked into. He said, "Age 49, lives on Los Robles in Pasadena." Holy shit! This case is getting closed! It was now time for a little bit of detective work. My friend F. and I went down there with his digital camera to the address my other friend had given me. It looked weird, though. There was no house with that address, or if there was, it was inside this closed gate that had a huge guard dog inside. There was no way we were going in there. We didn't see the car we were looking for, therefore we couldn't get any pictures of the license plate. My plan failed. Either way, age 49 didn't sound right. The guy who hit me was around my age, early 20s. Well shit, the insurance was probably under his dad or uncle's name. Next plan... have my insurance company send letters to that house informing whoever lived there that their car had been involved in an accident. Maybe then we'd actually get the name of the dude that hit me. This was going to take a while, though. In the next couple days, I took my mom's car to see my friend Nathan Payne play a show at B.B. King's in the Univeral City Walk. Afterwards, my girlfriend wanted to go to Hollywood. I really wasn't in the mood, and I was still pissed off about the whole car thing. Anyway, we get to Hollywood and some metal band is just getting out of the Key Club. My girlfriend was supposed to hang out with them at The Rainbow afterwards. I had the feeling that she was going to be let in and we were going to be denied free entrance. I was right, she went in, and me and Nathan and two other friends were stopped at the door. I'm sick of saying "my girlfriend," so she'll be referred to as "Blue" from now on. Blue has a way of getting into places. A week prior to this Rainbow thing, she had come with us to an MSI concert, and snuck backstage, somehow got a photo pass around her neck, and then took pictures for MSI during the show. Anyway, I'm getting off track here. So it really wasn't that expensive to get inside, but not everyone I was with had enough money, and I was the ride. I couldn't just ditch my friends to go hang out with Blue and some metal band. So I was pretty pissed off, because now she's giving me this "well I'm not going anywhere" attitude. And her pretentious friend who looked like a fucking groupie gave me a terrible vibe as well. So I had to leave Blue there and go take everyone home. I knew that was going to happen. We didn't know Miss Pretentious, so we weren't treated as an exception. Forgot to mention... my friend Angel, who I hadn't seen in almost a year, was coming from The Key Club to The Rainbow at the time. I really wanted to hang out with him again. That bummed me out even more. I left a message on her phone that night for her to call me back because I was pretty pissed off and wanted to make sure something like her shitty "high school type" cliques getting in the way of her being with me never happened again. She didn't call me back until the following night. She said she stayed in a hotel with her friend and the band. She bitched me out about comparing her to high school and said that my attitude was shitty that night (which I couldn't argue with). So we had a little fight over the phone, and she was leaving for Vegas the next day. This was definitely not where I wanted the relationship when she was going to be off to Vegas. Me and her wanted to go there together, and tried to plan it that way a while ago. But it didn't work out, and she was going with a guy named Nick (a friend of my friend who she met at the MSI show). I trusted that nothing was going to happen between them, but I was still jealous because he was going and I wasn't. Anyway, I had about three days to plan out some kind of nice day for me and her when she got back. I did have a shitty attitude that night, and the stress of chasing this car insurance shit down was really getting to me. It was important that I make up for such a crappy night by planning something nice for when she returned from her trip. I couldn't sleep, so I had stayed up the entire night with the same anticipation as a first date, and when it was around 9am, I went on over to pick her up. The entire day was spent with her, we saw a few movies, had some food, etc. And I didn't bring up anything negative like I usually do. After having dinner, she needed to be back home. The night was early, I thought, but whatever. So I took her home and she quickly jumped out of the car without an "I love you." Kind of a jolty goodbye after all this, I thought. It concerned me, but I tried not to think too much about it. A couple days later, she broke up with me. She said that day was so insignificant to her because she gets treated like that from guys all the time. Moral of the story: pretty girls get bored. They're so used to having guys all over them, that it's a constant competition. After a couple days of deep depression, I hung out with my friend, Jade. He was actually at The Rainbow with Angel that one fateful night... and by astonishing coincidence, they were also at The Rainbow the night she broke up with me. I was told she was there with another guy. Wow, big surprise there. Move on so quickly while I just sit here and dig my fucking heart out with a rusty fork. You know, it's happened every fucking time too! I've always been the one to get dumped, and they always find some guy like immediately afterwards. No one misses me, no one thinks about me, they just move on with no further thought! I've never been able to do that. Guess I'm just way more sensitive than most girls. I've been called a "woman" as an inslut by... that's right, a woman. Anyway, I'm getting off track again. So Blue had told me that she still would be there for me and all that crap that I've heard before. I hung out with her a few days later and asked about the guy I heard she was with at The Rainbow. She's like, "Oh, I figured you'd hear about that. I saw Angel glaring at me from across the bar." I replied, "That's because he's a good friend. So what happened?" She says, "He's just my South American friend that I find funny. I was holding his arm, that's about it." Later that day, I asked if she kissed him. She smiled and said "yeah." I asked if they made out. She smiled even more and said "yeah," like she couldn't have been happier. This really upset me, but I didn't bring it up until the next day. When I brought it up, I told her that it hurt me a lot for her to smile like that when admitting to making out with some other guy. Because it wasn't like, "I'm sorry, but that's what happened." It was more like, "Hell yes I did, and it made me so much happier than I could ever be with you." This is what she said in response: "I was smiling like that because I went back to his house, got drunk, and 69ed with him for 3 hours... and it was amazing!" So much for being there for me. That was quite possibly the most insensitive thing for her to say and do. No wonder it's impossible to be friends with exes. Fuck! So here I am... basking in loneliness and hatred. My car was going to cost 700 dollars to fix. They needed to pound out the metal so a regular tire wouldn't scrape, and there ended up being something else wrong with it, too. I really needed to track down that shifty Negro and give him a bill for this shit! It's not until a week or so later that the insurance company calls back with information. Useful information? Not quite. They found out who the strange named individual was: Some woman who moved from Rialto to Pasadena and sold her car to the guy I was looking for only 3 weeks before the accident. She said she needed to think about it before getting involved, meaning she didn't give out the guy's name. My theory is that she's related, and she's covering up for him. As I'm writing this, the accident is still unresolved. It just gets better and better, huh? SHIT!!!
2004
BROADCAST JOURNALISM CLASS (By THAD) - Now this is a class that I'm required to take for the type of degree I'm going for. My first observation that I was going to hate it was at the end of the very first class meeting. We were interviewing classmates to get to know each other and all that shit. Anyway, it turns out that every girl in the class has a boyfriend. Not only is it bad enough that there wasn't one girl in there who wasn't half a person, but what's worse is the simple fact that all of them had to bring up their boyfriends and tell their little stories about how they met and other such garbage. I was waiting for just one girl to not mention a significant other. I wouldn't have minded so much if they had one or not, but for every single one of them to just volunteer that information? That's fucking retarded! The interview was supposed to be about the people in the class, not their fucking friends. I mean, I didn't really give two shits about the people in class themselves, so you can imagine how very small an amount of shit I would give about some asshole who isn't even in the fucking class. I walked back to my car that night thinking 'this whole thing is going to suck.' Hey, it turns out I was right, because it gets worse...a lot worse. When it was discovered that I was the only one who really knew much about doing camera work or editing or anything in that area, the teacher volunteered me in front of the whole class to do all the editing. Now that isn't part of the class description, is it? But hey, as long as I'm guaranteed an A for this bullshit, then I'll just go along with it. The one thing that might have been fun in this class was a total disaster. Okay, get this. We're picking ideas for fake talk shows. I have an idea... one that I think is damned funny and actually well written, thank you very much! The idea is Advanced Calcumania. Now of course you don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, but I wrote an entire script for it as a surefire way to win people over so that they'd vote for my idea. When I saw the absolutely mindless bullshit that passed for the talk show ideas for the previous year's class, I knew I was in trouble. I figured out that all this teacher cared about was moronic pop-culture references like Glendale Idol instead of American Idol. Isn't that brilliant? Holy fuck! Why didn't I think of something so ingenious? Oh, that's right! Because it's stupid, pathetic, uncreative, conventional trash! That's not even the worst one if you can believe it. A phony dating game type show...totally uninspired. Something called Glendale Makeover...which is supposed to be like What Not To Wear or any of those other makeover shows that your mom loves, but you absolutely hate. I was actually asked to be part of it, if I was willing to cut my hair. Hmmm, let's see, I wouldn't even be getting paid for something like that. Plus it's for a crappy public access thing...not even a real show. My answer was "no" of course. Now onto the best idea, Advanced Calcumania. My idea only got the votes of me and the other guys in the class...which was two. Yeah, that wasn't exactly enough for my show to be kept on the list of ideas the teacher was willing to give the green light to. I was rather disappointed. After all, I was the only one who actually wrote out a complete script! It was already prepared for crap's sake, plus it was by far the most intelligent suggestion. Well now it was time for the real news stories, and I didn't suggest any, but there were actually some alright ideas for these. These reporter packages (that's what they call them) were to have two people each...the reporter and the camera man. Now guess which one I was going to be? I went ahead and said I could be the camera man for two reporters. Everyone else was just going to do one group, but I did two. What a trooper, huh? Yeah, fuck you. Tuesday and Wednesday were going to be busy days. Tuesday, I got up at 8am, which is amazing for me, because my usual schedule now is to stay up until about 8am and wake up at 3 or 4pm...which is right on time for my night classes. So actually, let me rephrase "I got up at 8am" to "I didn't sleep at all, and then went on over to do the project when morning rolled around." I was tired, but I don't flake out on stuff like this. We did the first story until about 1:15pm, and then it was time to hand the camera off to the next group. I was supposed to pick up the camera the next morning for the JPL Mars Rover story, which I thought was pretty cool, because hey, I get to bring a camera into JPL and shoot a bunch of space plans and shit. Heheh, anyway, I'm getting off track. So there I was, about to hand the camera off to this girl, but something was wrong. Shouldn't I have been handing the camera off to two people? After all, this girl can't shoot her story and be the reporter all at the same time, right? Well, the guy who was teamed up with her on the project must have thought she could, because he flaked out. Now, I know what it feels like to be flaked out on, believe me, so I offered my camera man services to her. I ended up getting done at 7:15pm. Needless to say, it was a long and tiring day. Heh, that rhymed. I don't regret doing it, though, because hey, I got to help someone, and that's a good feeling in itself. Plus she bought me dinner at Panda Express in appreciation...and we all know that's what really matters. Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm glad for reasons beyond being rewarded with Chinese food. It's a rare thing nowadays, but this girl (name being left out for obvious reasons) was able to provide conversation that was genuinely enjoyable. But I better not think about it too much. After all, not one girl was without boyfriend, remember? The next day, I did the JPL story. I was too tired to be enthusiastic about it, but it wasn't bad. I got home at around 6:30 at night, so that was another pretty long day. Weird thing...all three girls I worked with have names that begin with A. Maybe that's a hint at the grade I'm destined to get for all this work. So the day after that was Thursday, which was the screening of The Janitor at the LA Film School. That's the movie I get my leg ripped off in, for those who didn't know. It was pretty awesome. First time I've gotten to see myself on a big screen. Anyway, this is supposed to be about the class. Where do I get off talking about my other activities!? I'm sorry. I have no excuse for that. Continuing on with the complaint...I get back to class and find out that I don't have to edit everyone's project after all, because the teacher got some CNN guys to relieve some of that burden. I was just going to have to do the three projects I was the camera man for. I say "just," but seriously, that's still a lot more work than is required for an average student in that class. I'd better get an A is all I'm saying! Okay, a bit of good luck happened, or so I thought. Some of the editing was off my shoulders, plus they decided on Monday that Calcumania was going to make it on, but only as a last resort because a different talk show idea fell through. I didn't know whether to be insulted or excited that they were going to do it as a last resort. Well, neither. When I found out that it was supposed to be all prepared and set up for Wednesday, I was panicked. Let's see, that's Monday night at 10 that I'm finding this out, so that leaves me and the other guy one day to get all the costumes together and have our lines memorized. We did damned well, considering the haste we had to prepare in. Here's the part that really clenched the biscuit, by which I mean "this part makes me so fucking blinded by anger and frustration, that I want to kick someone's teeth in" (but I won't say whose). Wednesday! It's time! I got to school early to rehearse the script with my partner on this project. He did a good job, really had his shit together. 6pm came around. I grabbed my Lincoln and Professor garb from the trunk of my car, and then ran back to the Media Arts Room to get started. Advanced Calcumania was to be the last one up that night. The dating game show felt like it went on forever. They had to keep retaking it over and over again because of fuckups. Well, finally that was over and the Glendale Makeover thing was on. That one wasn't short, either, let me tell you. One of the other things I only had one day to prepare was all my cues to the director written on the script. Nobody else did that! You know why? Because my shit is more complex. It requires specific shots and also more editing, because I was going to play both the Professor and Abraham Lincoln. My teacher said I couldn't do that, and during rehearsals with the other guy, she'd constantly tell me to speed it up because I was going to lose the audience. Excuse me? I fucking wrote the whole script, and I'll be damned if she's going to have any kind of creative control over my work...especially someone who favors insipid, dumbed-down talk shows over my cleverly written comedy sketch. Get this! After she put so much emphasis on speeding it up, she got annoyed that it was only 6 minutes long. So I said "hey, we'll keep it at the pace it was originally supposed to be at then" and she goes "no, that'll bore the audience." What the fuck? First of all, very few things are more boring than the shitty talk show tapings I had to endure that night. Okay, so Glendale Makeover finally gets through, and I'm told to go next, but I'd only have half an hour, while the other groups got like a whole hour to do their shit. I was ready, but she put on Glendale Idol instead, and said, "Oh, they'll be done pretty soon, it's only a half an hour show." Wait a fucking minute here! Half an hour minus the half an hour left to be in the studio before we were going to get kicked out equals 0 minutes to do my show. I brought this up to her and she said "we actually have till 9:45, so that'll give you 15 minutes." So then Advanced Calcumania was going to have to be the one show that was well rehearsed enough to do perfect all the way through without any extra takes. So I wait, stressing out to the maximum, as the shittiest of the shitty shits is being recorded in the next room. It goes overtime, and leaves me 5 minutes to do my show! 5 fucking minutes!!! Well, we hurry up and sit down, and start rolling right away (a concept none of the other groups seemed to grasp). No mistakes. Perfect all the way through (another concept the other groups weren't able to grasp). Until about 75% of the way through it! It wasn't anything that I or the other guy messed up on, of course. No, it was just that they shut the cameras off on us and said "sorry, but we're being kicked out." The other groups all got at least an hour each. Fuckup after fuckup, take after take. At first, I didn't think 15 minutes would have been enough time, but after getting 75% of the way through the sketch without a single outtake in only 5 measly minutes, those originally planned 15 minutes (excuse me, but if there was even the slightest bit of professionalism, the originally planned schedule should have given me just as much time as any of the other groups) would have probably been enough time for me to finish, amazingly enough. I got royally screwed over by this teacher...and when I kept my artistic integrity by politely disagreeing with her typically inane ideas for my sketch, she had the nerve to condescend me by saying, "I'm the teacher," while I'm the one doing all sorts of extra work for her class. I'm failing my other class because of all the additional shit I'm doing for this one, and I pay for it even further by having my one and only project idea shat upon over and over again. FUCKETY FUCKING FUCK!!!!!!!
Go here to see stills from the Advanced Calcumania sketch.
2002
VERY FRUSTRATING WEEK (By THAD) - So my sociology class assigned a group project, and our group decided to make a video about the homeless. We would interview bums, and we'd give them sandwiches afterwards. We spent a day making sandwiches and prepared to go to Hollywood and get some interviews. I went along with them on that one, but on Wednesday, the day before the actual group presentation was due, they wanted to get more interviews and footage from LA. I had to work on my DVD for DVD Production, so I told them to meet me in the computer lab. They did, and tried to check out a camera, but since they weren't in any type of media class, they weren't allowed to take out equipment. Of course, I had to, being the media student. They told me they would be back in an hour, and I told them that I'd be right there, working on my DVD. They left, and I felt a little nervous about having them leave with over a thousand dollars of equipment that I was now responsible for, but since it would only be about an hour, I wasn't too worried. An hour and a half later, I finished working on my DVD for the day. I was completely done, except for the commentary, which I hadn't learned yet. I asked the teacher how it was done, and he told me to meet him the next day at 3pm, and he'd show me how to make the commentary. So now I was just waiting for my group members to return with the equipment so I could pack up and go on home. I fiddled around on the internet for about half an hour. I looked at the clock and realized that it had been two hours since they left. Okay, maybe they were running late. I killed time by adding stuff to my DVD, like an image gallery of Crazy Man panels. Now it had been three hours, and they still weren't there. There was no one I really knew or could talk to in the lab, and I was stuck there waiting for the fucking camera. I waited another two hours, bored and worried out of my mind, before another class started coming in and told me I would have to leave. I had started working at noon, and now it was 6pm. I asked the guy who checked out equipment if I could keep the stuff overnight, and he said it was okay, as long as I returned it by 1pm the next day. I went home, pretty damn pissed off. When I got home, I saw one of the guys in my sociology group online, and asked him where the hell the camera was. He had taken it home without telling me and said he needed to keep editing overnight. We made plans to meet at noon in the lab so that I could return the equipment on time, and so that he could print the movie to VHS in order to show it to our class, which was at 1pm. Talk about cutting this project close. While being worried sick that night, my dad informed me that The Folksmen had played at the Getty Museum the other day. The Folksmen being Michael McKean, Christopher Guest, and Harry Shearer. If you're one of my more ignorant readers, those are the same guys in Spinal Tap. But DAMMIT, why hadn't I known about it? I had missed the Folksmen when they were on Letterman, I had missed them on MadTV, and now I missed them IN PERSON! Fuckety fucking fuck! The next morning, I was woken up by the doorbell. I came to the door with my trashy bed hair and ripped up sweatpants. There were some guys from the rescue mission asking where my mom was. I had no idea, and the car I use to go to school was gone. I told them that she would have to be back pretty soon since she has the car I needed for school. They said "yeah, and we told her we'd be here to pick up the car." A few weeks previous, our Oldsmobile broke down, and they were there to pick it up. They waited outside and my mom still didn't show for an hour. When she got home, not only did the rescue mission people already leave, thus ruining the chance to get rid of our dead car for free, but she got home so late, that it made ME get to the school later than noon. Fortunately, the guy in my group was also late...that shouldn't be a fortunate thing, but it was in this case. He got there a little while after I did, and I returned the equipment and got my ID back, which they take when you check out equipment from the lab. Anyway, now it was time to export his movie and put it on tape. The computers in the lab refused to play the movie, because it didn't have something called DIVX. The guy rushed home to get his computer so that he could play our project for the class. He got back an hour into the class, and we presented the documentary when we got his computer all set up and ready to go. The teacher almost cried during our sad sad movie about homelessness. That was one of the few positive things that happened...that we had the best presentation. Afterwards, I felt bad that he had to run home, and helped him carry his computer back up toward the parking lot. By the way, it was hot as hell outside and there are 104 stairs to get to the top parking lot...I counted once. After that, I realized it was almost 3pm, and I rushed down to the computer lab to meet my teacher and find out how to make commentary. I waited TWO HOURS and the teacher didn't show up for the appointment we had made. I HATE WAITING!!! I went home, pissed off again, of course. The next day, Friday, was disappointing for other reasons, and I had skipped school because I decided to stop going to my political science and history classes since I knew I was going to fail them anyway. I know it's my own fault, but I'm complaining about it anyway! That night, sitting around online, I found out that I had missed WEIRD AL signing his new album! I keep missing all the good shit! SHIT! Saturday I did more sitting around online, and remembered someone saying that the school's computer lab was open on Saturdays from 9 to 5, and it was only 3:30. I figured I'd go and try to polish up my DVD menus and maybe think of more stuff to add until I could finally get the damned commentary finished...which by the way, still hasn't happened. I get to the school 15 minutes later, and check the labs. CLOSED! Son of a bitch! As I'm about to leave, I see this guy I know, Chris Hollar, with two other people. I had come all the way to the school, so I thought I might as well talk to him instead of going home right away. He was working on a group project for accounting, and told me he hates group projects. I said "yeah, I know how frustrating they can be." He then asked for a ride home, which I gave him. I pull up at his house, and right as he gets out of the car, his friend Nick pulls up behind my car. Nick gets out and says "hey, what are you hanging around this guy for?" "He gave me a ride home," Chris replied. Nick then said "oh, okay, that makes sense then," then he says to me "alright, faggot, get outta here!" I went home and sat around online some more. Then I get an Instant Message from someone saying, "I'm surprised you aren't seeing Spinal Tap right now." NOOOOO!!! IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND! Spinal Tap was playing at the Egyptian and Harry Shearer was going to be there!!! WHY?!? DAMMIT TO HELL! I HATE THIS WEEK! SO MUCH!
2001
THE MOVIE SCREENING (By THAD) - I hung around the college for a couple hours after my class, then took the bus to the theatre at 5pm. The screening didn't start until 7pm, so I was very early. I stood, first in line, at 5:30. Some movie guys said that I could stay and critique the movie with the actors and directors 20 minutes after it was over. Standing for an hour in the cold was a small price to pay for that kind of privilege, so I was really happy about it. I went in and chose a seat to my liking. After a while, more and more people were coming in, asking if the seats next to me were taken. I said yes, even though they weren't, because I like space around me while I'm watching a movie. Anyway, I had to take a leak, so I left my backpack on my seat and when I came back...two guys were in my row...but at least they weren't next to me. I said to them, "If anyone comes and asks if the seats next to you are taken, say yes." They agreed, but when a couple came by and asked if the seats were taken, the freakin' guys said, "no, go ahead". To avoid sitting right next to the couple, I put my backpack in the seat I was sitting in, then moved over one. I hate being near a couple at a fucking movie. I mean, some of them are okay, but most of them kiss or whisper shit during the film. Not even silent whispering, I mean, some people don't know the difference between actual whispering and just talking in a raspy voice. I HATE IT! The movie was good, though. No complaints about that. But, after it was done, the theatre guy who invited me to stay and critique the movie asked me if I was alone or with a group. I told him I was alone. Then he said, "Oh, you don't need to stay then. We have enough people." Since I didn't want to argue, I just left, but what I noticed while leaving was that all the people who were staying after were groups of teenagers or young couples...most of them I had seen arrive at 6:30 to 7:00, not fucking 5:30 (first in line) like ME! So they dismissed me from critiquing the movie just because I was alone! It's a fucking conspiracy I tells ya! They must think that just because I go to a movie by myself, it means I'm too serious of a film critic. I walked the 3 miles home, pissed off that I didn't argue with the guy when I should have, and freezing from the night air. DAMMIT!
GENERAL COMPLAINTS
2008
FUCK YOU, POLITICALLY CORRECT PSA! (By THAD) - I just saw a PSA on Fox that pissed me off so much, I had to jump on the computer and write this the second it ended. It shows two girls shopping for clothes, and one of them says that one of the clothing items she picked out looks gay. Just then, some nosey bitch butts in their conversation and tells them not to use the word "gay" as slang for "bad"...
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
I was by myself in my room, and that’s actually what I yelled aloud at the TV when the PSA was over.
First it was the constant “no on 8” ads before the election, which had the nerve to compare gay marriage to the discrimination of slavery and imprisonment in concentration camps. Are you fucking kidding me? Just because people who like to fuck their own sex didn’t succeed in trying to change the definition of yet another word...
Which brings me to my contempt for this new PSA...
The word "gay" didn’t always mean "homosexual," so then if it’s okay to keep using that word to refer to something homosexual, why then is it not okay to use it as slang for "negative"? What right does anyone have telling me I shouldn’t keep using a certain word to describe something lame or stupid? You describe your fetish as "gay," so I’ll describe something unlikable as "gay," seeing as I find your particular fetish weird and gross. If I was just talking to a friend, and some stranger came up to us and said not to use the word gay for anything negative, I would tell them to fuck off. I don’t understand how some people can continue to hold this sexual abnormality more sacred, and consider more untouchable, than any race or religion. Now, regardless of where you stand on the subject of gay rights, you should be aware that our freedom of speech is slowly fading away. We are entering the age of "Thought Crime." This PSA is not just telling you what you can’t say... it’s telling you what to think. Just wait until people are arrested for using the wrong words, or for having the wrong religion. Fuck that! Fuck being politically correct! Oh, and one more thing...
FUCK YOUR QUEER LITTLE FAGGOT ASS PSA! IT’S FUCKING GAY!!
2005
UNORIGINAL FILMS (By THAD) - Have you noticed that almost everything that's come out in the past 5 years is either a remake, a sequel, based on a comic book, TV show, novel, or a true story? FUCK! Nobody has original ideas anymore! I can't name them all, because the titles alone would take up more than half of this webpage. It's ridiculous. I mean, not all of these movies are necessarily bad. In fact, I've enjoyed some of them greatly. But it's still annoying that they can't come up with anything new. They need to get me in there... I'll fucking direct some shit no one would expect. Fuck the Steven Spielberg Hollywood ending! My movies are way more original. Maybe slightly over the top... or maybe even completely unrealistic sometimes... but hey, doesn't that make the best entertainment? At least it's different! Even the movies that AREN'T based on something look like uninspired pieces of shit. Although I still want to camp out for a whole night to see the movie Stealth. My friends are planning on dressing up for it. I think one of them actually wants to spraypaint a box black and be Stealth. Yeah, I'm sure it'll suck, but it'll probably be better than the new Star Wars movie. With lines like "NOOOOO!!!!!" or "It's because I'm so in love with you... no, it's because I'm so in love with YOU." What shitty fucking dialogue, man! Anyway, back on track here. I need to make more movies and try and get noticed. It seems that a lot of people don't get my work, though, or think it's too extreme, or the jokes just go over their heads. Well, I guess my films will filter out the stupid people then. Maybe that's a good thing, who knows? Alright, I'm done ranting here. I'm gonna pop a blood vessel if I continue. Fuckin' morons.
2001
THE STUPID TEENS THESE DAYS (By THAD) - Yes, I know I'm stupid, too, but I am not nearly as bad as these idiotic, moronic, ignorant, air headed teens and preteens I see at local movie theatres, shopping areas, and certain resaurants. I swear, whenever I see all these prepubescent bitches and bastards hanging around, it makes me very glad to be out of jr. high and high school. I just have to ask myself what the world is coming to when I hear their empty conversations, annoying laughs, and horrible tastes in music. If they kept to themselves, I wouldn't mind as much, but it seems impossible to avoid their kind. The worst part is some of these fucktards even have the nerve to mess with other people. I've been insulted, yelled at, and actually touched by a few of these fucking brats. Too bad it's against the law to curb stomp their ugly faces in, or else a lot of these juvenile shitwits would be nothing but toothless corpses. Don't get me wrong...not every kid 12-16 years of age is a shitfuck. Just like everything else, there is good and bad. The fucked up shitheels that I've been ranting about are in the "bad" category. Haha, I sound like an old man complaining about the youth of today.
? (By Elizabeth) Damn, it's so frustrating when people choose text colors that just don't freakin' show up on the background!!! I mean, come on people, if you've got something that's worth taking time to read, make sure it's legible! I've got better ways to kill off my eyesite than squinting at your webpage or profile. Such as not blinking for twenty minutes... or reading novels in the dark so they don't get taken away... and other situations that simply can't be avoided in every day life. So please, I know I don't deserve to have twenty-twenty vision, but that doesn't mean you have any right to contribute to me losing it.
http://geocities.com/cmthad/?.htm