“I can giggle through out this fucking thing. Because…I can go home, tell my wife I’d totally do “_______” with you…And I’ll get laid tonight. Seriously, that’s the kind of fucking date you have tonight. You’ll go, you’ll check out that psychic chick, wonder about those two joints and bedding Bella night [sic]. And you’ll totally bring up doing one of those two…or maybe that redheard, with your girl. And SHE WILL be into it too. Yeah, that’s right. I’m a man ad I’m using this shit. BECAUSE IT WORKS! And I’m not too shy to say it. Because you know this shit works too!

The future of your dick is on the line here. GO and it will be yours. This is better than the single’s bar because there’s not 9 sticks per _____. You could arrive at a bar with this. And teenagers, you go with your girl…this might be a good night for you too. You know, you don’t have to tell your guy friends you saw it. I’m doing that for ya. So that next time hanging out, that…”Yeah, I’ve had sex” gleam will be showing.

For a guy- that’s what this movie can be. For a girl, this film is deeply meaningful in a once ina lifetime kind o way. Use that. Seriously.” - Harry Knowles, from his review of The Twilight Saga: Eclipse

if you think this makes no sense because you didn’t read the whole review, you’d be wrong. it’s a good thing Harry Knowles is there to give the fanboys the key to a woman’s  ______. 

after hours and hours of reading film blogs like SlashFilm, Ain’t It Cool, and First Showing, I have decided to write a musical using nothing but reader comments. that’s right. it will be a dramatic reading of threads, except, it will be dramatic singing! huzzah!

it is endlessly entertaining and frustrating at the same time to read some of the inanity and pointless arguments that occur in response to movie news. now, i like movies, i wouldn’t be a film major if i didn’t. but here is a message from me to the people who repeatedly say stupid things on the internet in regards to movies: IT’S NOT REAL. NONE OF IT IS REAL. HAVE YOU EVER MADE A MOVIE?? TRY IT. GET OFF YOUR FUCKING COUCH AND GO DO SOMETHING THAT MATTERS.

there’s a title in there somewhere, i just know it.

got back yesterday to find almost every flyer or poster i am required to hang up had been torn down and was laying on the floor in the hallway. 

angrily sent this e-mail to the entire building:

subject line- If you think tearing down posters is fun…

Body- let me know and I will give you some you can hang up and tear down in your room for a good time. otherwise leave the hallway signs alone.

i think the only time some people in the building see me is when i am hostile and pissed off. this e-mail doesn’t help I’m sure.

i have some very insightful friends. and when we get together we like to wax philosophical about life, which usually ends up being about relationships and dating and all the impossibilities therein. while there are probably more accredited individuals with theories on today’s dating issues, we tend to think that because we are living it, we are the real experts. our main focus when we discuss the decline of the dating scene and exclusivity is the role of text messaging. which of course is really the new instant messaging, but is even more aggravating because it doesn’t require two people to be plugged into an internet connection at the same time. all you need is a cell phone (which, let’s face it, 10 year olds have now) and a text messaging plan (again, 10 year olds).

our problem stems from the fact that text messages are both non-committal and cryptic and yet they are so often the root of a potential relationship. so you get someone’s number or they get yours. after some face to face flirtation, it becomes okay and exciting to send a text here or there, or at 3 AM. but when these text conversations or flirtations bear no weight to your face to face relationship or don’t work to move it along, what are you really doing? wasting your time. sure a text can show that someone was thinking about you, and that’s why they’re fun because they can be unexpected. but in reality of your day to day life, frivolous texting is only holding you back. not to mention the chance that you or your frivolous texting partners are probably frivolously texting other options. which brings me to our point that everyone seems to constantly be looking for something better or something else to come along. hence, the non-committal thing. why frivolously text one person when i can be frivolously texting three people at once if only to make myself feel better when im lonely and drunk at the bar? sure, i know nothing will probably come of it because texting is our way of hiding from human interaction, but in the moment, it feels good.

unfortunately i’ve learned multiple times that texting someone does not mean you are even on track to having a real life relationship. in my experience it seems like i’ve replaced the need for human interaction with empty and often poorly spelled texts from guys who really don’t know me that well and probably never will. but is this the way that dating is going? a booty call becomes a booty text becomes multiple booty texts so that at least you have options? i remain flabbergasted by people in committed relationships. 

my carrie bradshaw/meredith grey voiceover is done now, thanks for listening. friends dont let friends send frivolous texts. or they do so that later they can dissect them and write about them on their blogs.

1. Sandra Bullock is a class act. I love that she has been honored for hard work and I hope to see her branch out even more.

2. Kathryn Bigelow as first female to win best director is a blessing and a curse: she will now be forever remembered as the first, and haters will forever say “it was just because she is a woman.” WHEN CAN YOU JUST BE A DESERVING HUMAN BEING??

3. I always, without fail, picture all the beautiful, tender love making that will happen sometime shortly after the oscar ceremony between oscar winners and their significant others. And now that I think about it, oscar losers and their significant others. Much different kind of sex, I’m guessing.