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The Insensitive MC

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Livejournal For Dummies [Feb. 9th, 2005|11:57 am]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |complacentcomplacent]

I had this awesome post lined up. Really. It was super cool. But I totally erased it. So, whatev. Instead you'll just get some random movie review haiku's. And I'll be back with something fierce-ah in the near future. Swear.

The Grudge
Buffy cleans a house
Some boring ghosts meow at her
This is a remake?

The Village
Don’t go in the woods
Cuz everyone is Amish
Yep. That’s the big twist.

House of Flying Daggers
snore. blah. love. snore. dull.
FIGHT! RAD! SLO-MO! KICK! FLY! NICE!
aaaaaaaand back to nothing.

Sideways
Swingers for yuppies
Watch Pig Vomit get shit-bombed!
Watch Lowell channel Trent!

Life Aquatic
Bill Murray is bored
And is too fat for that suit
Watch the hipsters swoon
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Get the holy drippings and make the sacred gravy [Feb. 2nd, 2005|07:53 am]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |anxiousanxious]

There is such a pile of mashed potatoes on my plate. That I rarely have time to even check my e-mail. Which is mostly an infestation of spam anyway. Consistently urging yours truly to elongate the size of my apparently mediocre member. God.

Way to kill a girl’s ego.

But it should be mentioned. We found a place. On the East Side of Providence, near Brown. The hipster-iest side of the city. A side of the city peppered with gay coffee shops with straight dredlocks hogging window seats and waxing political far too boisterously. Anyway. Two bedrooms. Hardwoods. Clawfoot bathtub. 750. We’ll be in by the end of February.

Nervous, excited, relieved? All of the fucking above. More to come on all of this.

More to come in general. I’ve been lax, but it’ll pick up. I still read all of your entries on a goddamn daily. And they make laugh and smirk and pout and give me fab ideas for yummy recipes. And it’s all good as gravy. For the taters, of course. And the world keeps on chuckin’ curve balls. Cuz who’d a thunk. If you had told me in 1992 that “Lowell” from Wings and “Wanda” from In Living Color would both be nominated for an Oscar in the same year. Whelp. Yeah.

Gravy.
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I Amuse you. Like a clown. [Jan. 14th, 2005|05:11 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |bouncybouncy]

Our new office UPS guy looks like a chubby Ray Liotta.

I want to be all, “I swear to my fucking mother, if you touch her again, YOU'RE DEAD.”

But I realize that this wouldn’t fly in a professional-type environment.

So I suppose I’ll have to curb these carnal quoting desires.

My New Year’s Resolution was to stop recycling some of my many, tiresome catch phrases from the past 2 years. I aim low, ladies and gentleman. And I’m still using the A/B in passing.

You know like, when you have more than one point to make in a given conversation? And you obnoxiously list them in alphabetical order?

Example:

I fear that this season of Alias is going to be as tepid as last because A: The tech guy that has a face shaped like an avocado still looks like a fucking avocado and B: in the same vein, Angela Bassett has exquisite bone structure but will forever be Stella searching for her missing groove.

Yeah that has to stop. ASAP. Oh yeah, might want to work on that superficiality, while I'm at it. Though, frankly, it’s all the same in Celebrityville, USA aaanyhow so I, uh, digress or whatever…

Brakmobeau told my friend that I changed his life. Verbatim, people.

Okay, darling.

Know what this means? I have to put at least a year into this one. Fabtastic.

He still has 100 of my hard-earned dollars. A loan from about 3 weeks ago.

And you know what I want to say to that?



Fuck you pay me.
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Fly Like a Motherfucking Eagle [Jan. 8th, 2005|12:04 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |busy as all hell]

I’m having an insane amount of difficulty opening up my hotmail account to read all of my porn spam. Fact, both hotmail accounts are stagnant. Ergo, I’ll reciprocate any overdue comments as soon as I troubleshoot the entire intarweb.

Missy Elliot has a car bed. An actual friggin’ Ferrari converted into a king size bed. The hood opens up to reveal a ginormous plasma tv. The trunk opens up to reveal a several tiered shelf system that holds like, a million pairs of dumb shoes to fit her big fat brown feet.

What a dingus.

But, hey! At least we have the new season of Alias upon us! Jen Garner flipping and Bentasizing and bad-acting her way down cardboard hallways. Love every absurdly melodramatic second of that show. Oh, and the awkward Vartan-smooching? I feel the tension there. And it feels OH-SO-DELICIOUS. In related news, let’s have a moment of somber silence for the devastating separation of Brad and Jen. And, while doing so, let’s cue the Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong montage.

Anyway. The next two months are going to be this hellish, rapid fire, intermittent blur for yours truly. I’ll be operating on Mario-star invincibility mode all day, everyday. I can hear that godforsaken music on repeat in my head. And it’s every bit as unpleasant as one can imagine. You’ll be seeing me in a new job, in a new apartment, with my new brakmobeau, by March 1st. Any and all updates will surely be infrequent. But I’ll be sure to slather your buddy page with actual happenings in the Life of O sometime soon. For now, you’ll just have to deal with this waste of space. Because time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’…
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More Bah Than Humbug [Dec. 15th, 2004|12:56 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |chipperchipper]

Hey, listen. The next time I'm invited to your shitty wedding, try not to serve the shake-and-bake chicken cordon blech. And try not to slow dance to not one, but two Tim McGraw songs, you fucking rednecks, you. And try not to dress your inebriated bridesmaids in poofy, bedazzled dress disasters that make me want to vomit glitter, like, everywhere. Oh, and while I'm eating your disgusting entree, maybe tell the DJ not to play The Top 50 Hits From The Weather Channel because I'm totally bored and I’m subconsciously waiting for the local 8's. In fact, don’t invite me at all. Because, rest assured, I will wear pants. And I will sneak out an hour after showing up. And I’ll only attend your reception because, really? Who wants to hear vows exchanged by two people they’ll never see nor speak to ever again. I’m such an incorrigible bastard and I hate you. But thanks for the magnet!

Anyway. Maybe there’s the highlight of the past two weeks. The useless yet hilariously awful wedding of two equally useless former co-workers. What else? The property I work for is up for sale. I’m not sweating anything right now. I’m listening to a fuzzy Boston classic rock station because I’m a fool to do your dirty work, oh yeah. Nothing to get hot about these days. We are officially 2 months into a frazzled relationship with Film Beau. Found his profile on Myspace.com and never let him hear the end of it. Printed it out and tucked it under his covers, even. Awkward and papoosed. Fortunately, it was last updated the morning after we met. Lucky fucker. Because the wrath of O is relentless. Other than that, incense, peppermints, all-good. Nerd love is the greatest love of all. Can’t express that enough, really.

I’m not sending out Christmas cards this year. I’m not making mix tapes because I’ve no burner. I may not even call you for some holiday well-wishing. Not that I’m Scroogey, I’m just plum lazy. But I hope all is well and merry and what have you. I’ll be back soon.

The Terminal
Tom? I want to die.
Also, you’re really fat now
Man. The airport’s dull.
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(no subject) [Dec. 3rd, 2004|12:19 am]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |excitedexcited]

What was formerly "Wish Garden"...

a quaint little chinese restaurant 'round the corner...

is now under new management...

it's new name?

...

Double Dragon.

Seriously? I can die now. Because, that? That...

is awesome.
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Things That Go Squish [Nov. 5th, 2004|05:48 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |excitedexcited]

I think in the history of embarrassing situations...

that interrupting an elderly Walgreens employee as she is in the midst of discussing her sister's recently diagnosed cancer with another elderly woman...

butting in all inappropriate-like right between the words "terminal cancer" and "devastating" in order to inquire the whereabouts of the condom section...

and then yoinking the economy 30-pack henceforth...

Yeah.

That might just round out the top five.

Never has the word 'CONDOMS' echoed so loudly before.

---
And, for the record, finally, Eternal Sunshine ripped my fucking heart out and plopped it in a saucer of vanilla bean ice cream. It was splendid and beautiful and exactly what love is. It's about that partner in crime. It's about a wealth of inside jokes and found objects and superficial little memories that make you Cheshire-grin at every found object. I get a nasty case of the warm fuzzies just thinking about it.

This year is slowly slipping from angsty to squishy. And you know. It feels bitchin'.

---
EDITED TO ADD:

o is your daddy: also, he said to me last night "I love going to parties, if there is a party, I'll go! all the time!"
o is your daddy: *sigh* 27.
ill cthulhu you: he sounds like your last bf
ill cthulhu you: andrew wk
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Am3Ric4 RoX!1! [Nov. 4th, 2004|04:29 pm]
The Insensitive MC
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Girl With a Movie Camera [Nov. 2nd, 2004|01:53 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |rushedrushed]

I am Dziga Vertov.

I am A Girl With a Movie Camera. In German. In black and white. And on exhilarating flash forward. I blink and I see pieces of the last couple of weeks flicker by like a lite sneeze-ah. And I can’t comprehend any of it.

Click click - I wake up papoosed in a huge white down comforter. “Buy me a present,” I sing-song in a sleepy voice. I slump right the fuck back into slumber almost immediately. The beau returned an hour later with a pink toothbrush, a silver cigarette case, and The Providence Journal. The front page screamed CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD and I woke up and chortled because, holy shitcakes, I can’t believe the Sox won the Series. My teeth were still stained gray from late evening Yellowtail merlot, and he told me that I cried, flailed, giggled, and belted Etta’s At Last far too boisterously. Can you blame a nigga?

“I got you pink because you’re a girl,” he chirped while gripping the toothbrush, and I stood in the bathroom in my Battle Royale t-shirt, gawking at the side by side pink and blue toothbrushes next to the sink, utterly incredulous at how fast this courtship is traveling. “Phank you for pha phigarette caphe, phat waph phoughtful,” I grumble-mumbled with half a pound of Colgate in my mouth. And, yeah. I am a girl. With a movie camera. And click click – it’s the night before Halloween, and I’m at my favorite bar dressed like Elle Driver.

I looked pretty hot [Right Dandalf? I mean, despite the drunken stumbling and yelling and arm-over-the-shouldering. Right?], but god help me, I’ll never wear an eyepatch to a bar ever again. Ever. It’s bad enough that my depth perception is humiliating, it’s bad enough that I drink far too much Captain in a small amount of time. It’s worse when I slightly adjust my rubber snake and it cracks my girlfriend’s glass of Amaretto. And, yeah. I was wearing a rubber snake. Black mamba in the briefcase? You remember. But it’s hard for me to piece this all together, because it’s all whizzing by like that movie. With the guy and the movie camera. Filming everything. All fast-like. And maybe there’s more, but there’s too much to do. All day, all week. Far too motherfucking much. I’ll be here working overtime. Click clicking along. The shutter speed is making me nauseous. But, whatever. I’m sure I’ll find the pause button soon enough.

[Hooray Sox]
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Things I’ve Learned About Celebrities Since I Started Dating Captain Film Festival [Oct. 27th, 2004|01:19 pm]
The Insensitive MC
[Current Mood |awakeawake]

- Jeremy Sisto, while an excellent actor who improvises much of his dialogue, is the prickliest of pricks to anyone and everyone who is not part of the acting elite. I guess that’s what happens when you play, I dunno, JESUS. Snobby? Yep. Condescending? Sure. Handsome? You fucking bet.

- Eliza Dushku is a more humble creature who actually fraternizes with lowly production assistants and techies! Wowee wow wow! Unfortunately, she too drips with a bit of actorly snobbery, yet not as much as one would assume. Especially considering the fact that she’s a snarly raving cunt who wears lots of surly gray eyeshadow in most of her roles. Except that one where she was a kid and had to kiss the frog and lust after C. Thomas Howell in the last movie he ever looked hot and not, like, totally busted in. Because I think he was hot at one time. Maybe. Ladies?

- Sigourney Weaver is as sweet as homemade apple pie. Frankly, that’s a tad mind blowing. Because the consistent thin-lipped look on her face, to me anyway, always reads, OMG I AM MENSTRUATING, BACK THE FUCK OFF, ESPECIALLY YOU, RUBBER ALIEN THING FROM PLANET SPECIAL EFFECT OMG MIDOL FUCK YOU. Or something. I dunno. Oh, and she's a stone cold fox in person too. Rrrow.

- Steve Buscemi is as batshit and quirky as one would imagine. Yeah, I finally broke down and asked all the questions in the universe about homeboy. He blinked and twitched and totally spazzed and ran away when 6 million fanboys crowded around him asking for autographs. Who can blame the dude, really. When you’re Mr. Pink, you don’t want all the nerds in the universe yelling it in your mouth. Other than that, he was mellow and rad and GOD I love him and am so jealous of the beau.

And this has been your Access Celebrity report. For those who live in Cali and see staaaaahz in sandwich shops and at gas stations on a daily, I'm not gonna lie, I'm totally jealous.

[A better post to come. For now...GO SOX]
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