Sunday, 20 February 2011

Groundbreaking Feminist Sci Fi Weed Theory

Last night was to supposed be "Telepathic Date Night". It's an idea I had for SlimeCapsule. I figured that in times of great desperation it isn't entirely impossible to go in through the back door of a girl's mind to win her over. I bought a ten bag of weed, some atmospheric candles, printed out a 6X10 picture of my "date", and put on some binaural music. After the first joint I remembered Aliens was on TV at 9. I stood my date up. Sorry. Instead I watched Aliens stoned and came to the conclusion that it was the most radical feminist film ever made. I even wrote a review whilst high. Check it out! Spelling mistakes and poor grammar from the original note are included.

Aliens - ultimate female empowerment

Men "discover" Ripley in cryo gen. Adam and Eve?

With great mistrust she helps men to fight Aliens. She gradually builds respect in male dominated environment. Turning point when face hugger is put in her bedroom. She refuses to "get pregnant". Leads to M/F contention. How will she come out of this?


Effemination of Hicks after his injury. He looses his role of male protector to Ripley. He turns to drugs [he injects painkiller after he gets acid blood on his chest]. Doesn't speak for the rest of the film. MOTHER SUPERIOR.

RIPLEY VS QUEEN ALIEN - GENDER BETRAYAL. Mistrust of foreigners (aliens) indicitive of human beings?

LAYERS AND LAYERS OF DESTRUCTION. Alien>human>robot>alien. Very good theory.

So there you are: the worst piece of writing i've done for a while, and I even skipped out on a hot telepathic date for it. Idiot. SlimeCapsule is coming along marvellously by the way. Should be done in the next month!

Friday, 4 February 2011

Reality is Trivivial

Trying to get my mind round making another fanzine at the moment. It's not hard: filling fanzines with middle of the road crud is the standard. At the moment I'm trying to let go of my inhibitions and write what I really think about. It's a cleasing process I think. Once I get rid of the weirdness running thru my mind maybe I can lead a normal life. Maybe when I stop fantasising about the mean spirited Chinese lady at work, maybe when I stop going to watch rom coms by myself, maybe when I stop walking for miles into the middle of nowhere by myself because I can't wait for the end of the world. These feelings come and go.

Right now I've got a whole bunch of shit being typed but it's all thoroughly MIDDLE OF THE FLIPPIN' ROAD. A couple of years ago I briefly fell in love with a girl who worked in a butchers. She stunk.

The Pork Queen

Slater Wilcox

I have worked with some total shitheads in the past, real horrid cunts. The guy in the bakery with no front teeth and a moustache who used to mutter “kinky” every time a major babe walked past in boots. Then there was the guy in the warehouse who preferred to sleep with women on their periods as it “felt better”. The guy in the pub with a penchant for the “suck it and see” t shirts. And the guy in the lorry who yelled “NICE NIPPPLES” at a 50 year old lady on a cold day in St Austell.

I trollied the 20 cases of wine round the back of the butcher's shop. The door opened to the scent of raw meat and a very attractive Irish girl. It stank, but she was beautiful. I became delirious. I imagined her black hair smelling of pork as I spanked her with a 10oz rib eye steak. If she'd have taken her clothes off, I would have eaten them. However, my nose was dripping and the guy I worked with kept insisting that I was gay; I felt like I had the charisma of a clogged toilet. Nothing happened between me and the Pork Queen.

Thursday, 3 February 2011

When did your name change from a noun into a charm?

Anyone seen "How do you know" the new Paul Rudd film? I did last Sunday night. Hungover and grotesque, feeling like a middle of the road rom com would be the only thing that would pull me through the grimy dullness, I decided to take the plunge and attend a slushy romantic film all on my lonesome. Sure enough the only other people there were new couples and fat, lonesome nerds who also loved Paul Rudd. It made me feel better, like I wasn't kook. The cinema is free from judgement and I find it immensely relaxing; a dark room where you can fullfil your darkest desires by watching a rom com by yourself. In watching this Paul Rudd film I finally understood why they chose to name another of his films "I love you, man." I goddamn love him, man.

I sat there soothing my dry, hungover mouth with ice cold fanta. Drinking 8.2% cider the night before had annihilated my brain and I had puked, been sick as a dog; my mind felt like a clogged gutter in Autumn, full of stinkin' brown slime. At first I couldn't get my head around what was actually happening in "How do you know". Nothing had made sense all day so how was I to understand the purest and simplest thing of them all - trashy american love [starring Paul Rudd]. The title of the movie reassured me that there was no simple answer to this fuckin' shit rom com.

It was only after 2/3 f my fanta that everything started to fall into place. That bitch [Reese Whitherspoon] loved that bitch [Paul Rudd]. Owen Wilson was there as just humorous filler, like a nervous fart in an exam; funny but distracting. Jack Nicholson shouted at Paul Rudd for a while, then Paul and Reese got on a bus, destination: Forever Love.

I left the cinema on that sub zero evening feeling like true love might exsist somewhere in this cruel world and that it wasn't just a construct of a multimillion dollar film industry made to pacify suckers for Paul Rudd. Never the less: I love you, man.