Donald Trump is still running for President.
It really makes me worry for my life. Yes, mostly just mine. I start daydreaming about the outcome of this election and how long it will take the global politics to seep into my daily life. It only took the Nazis a decade to infiltrate the entire system (with ridiculous rumors about homosexuality, and they actually convinced a military general to marry a prostitute), but I don't think it will take that long this time around. It's been 80 years. We've come a long way with weapons, technology, military police. The internet will both protect and kill us in this situation, but if we just keep thinking about it as a meme, it's going to kill us so much faster.
Everything is falling apart. Slowly, so we don't really notice, like when the lining of your dress starts breaking away from the fabric and you're like, nah nah I can still wear this at least 2 more times. Let me get drunk in this one more time and fall down the stairs, really tear it, then I can throw it away.
I say everything, but my life is going just fine. More or less. And I don't want that to change! Not on such a huge scale. I'm already a millennial, a victim of 30 years of unchecked capitalism and rampant consumerism, and all I want is to continue to want and get things. Really, it's that simple. Stop trying to complicate everything by boycotting Oreos and building a wall. That's not going to work. What capitalism is missing is a level of respect between owner and worker. There's nothing wrong with capitalism, but there is something wrong with removing the human element and disrespecting the very people that are working to make sure your money-making system is working. People fantasize about being that Trump Tower Billionaire, but really all they want is a little extra money to pay their bills and take a vacation and BUY more of what you're already making money off of. Just respect their work ethic, fuck. Make them feel like billionaires. Pay them a little more. Because, wow, when you give us more money, guess what we're going to do?
Spend it.
I shamelessly gave my money to Bryan Singer, and I've honestly never stopped giving money to the X-Men franchise. I don't know why the reviews panned that movie. Every inch of that movie screamed MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND without too many American flags. Maybe people were offended by Sansa's terrible American accent? But what's wrong with a British Jean Gray? And Fassbender, McAvoy, fucking Oscar were killing it. It didn't even feel like a movie, really, more like a bunch of rich kids cosplaying the shit out of their weekend. And the amazing deaths in the beginning? I lost count of how many people were squished by the collapsing pyramid, but the sound effects were hilarious.
It was better than Civil War, so fuck you.
Although Cap/Bucky is better than Professor X/Magneto
But a crying Michael Fassbender trumps all.
There's that word again.
Trump.
Seriously, I'm frightened. Will he take away my summer blockbusters? My right as a human being to go out after 5pm without a male escort? Can I wear short shorts? What if I'm not allowed to bring my Snuggie to the theater anymore? Will he take away Coke Icees? Or is Coke more powerful than the American Presidency? Does Trump own stock in Coke? What about Pepsi?
I met with my friend Laura yesterday. She may offer me a nice side gig as her personal assistant a few hours a week, which would be extra cash toward my Germany spend fund. All the brats and sneakers I can buy. I am going to keep a tally of how many tuna and cucumber sandwiches I eat in London, too, don't worry. Her and I used to work together on her TV show, but our schedules are whacky now, and without Channel Austin deadlines down our throats neither of us can be motivated to finish anything. She has five more episodes to write, and then we can start filming. But I also have all of my own projects I'm working on. And my thumb drive broke, taking all of my vacation photos, writing samples, and my updated resume with it. So I'm fucked, but surprisingly calm about it?
I do have a deadline though. And both Laura and I have created a system where we will keep each other in check weekly. Along with text messages throughout the week, we owe each other something creative every Thursday. Even if it's just like a page of text or an outline, it'll be something. Plus, we both have Final Cut now so I can email her scenes. My homework right now is creating a fake trailer for Drive (I'm going for a Bryan/Ryan romance because who doesn't love Bryan Cranston? and he's just so sad in that movie all the time), and I have until Piss gets back from Jersey to finish it. I spliced some scenes last night, I need to pick out some more Ryan Gosling ones, but I got distracted watching Big Tits' head explode in slow motion. All the bits. And then I watched him stomp that guy's head in. The gore got me, so I stopped because I was clearly not thinking about romance anymore.
Although we all get our heads blown off every once in awhile.
Which brings me to what I'm avoiding talking about the most because I hate when boys start distracting me from my life. And, no joke, Roshi just walked into my house uninvited (she does this all the time; it's beautiful), but again, it's another distraction to stop me, but I'm going to force it out just so it's out and I can stop carrying it around with me...
If you remember that DJ I said wanted to fuck me - Kitchen Kyle - oh, he definitely wanted to fuck. We've definitely fucked. It took him two whole movies to make a move, but then he stuck it right in. And now we text silly videos and Japanese pop music back and forth. We watch anime together, which in and of itself is strange, because I only recently decided to get back into anime when I started realizing how much it influenced by storytelling aesthetic. All these scripts I'm reading and writing, they all have this weird undertone of anime, and so CONVENIENT that as I'm watching my own old DVDs and my nerd bro Danny is hooking me up with new shows every week, this cute skinhead-looking (british skinhead, not a neo-Nazi) white boy has Rurouni Kenshin on VHS. He called out of work on Thursday to hang out with me all day (and I mean ALL day, 11am til I left at 9pm), bought me breakfast, we watched anime all afternoon, it's bizarre. Unexpected, and now I find myself waiting on text messages like a little bitch. I'm trying to roll with it, it's totally casual (right?), and I keep telling myself to just enjoy the attention, the sex, he's respectful, and I can't keep overthinking like girls always do.
But when you send me text messages like "you're really gorgeous and funny and I'm lucky to know you" in-between anime songs, how can I not???
UGH
BOYS
This is where I answer thefridayfive:
1. If you could, would you be a movie star or a rock star?
Movie. It'd be more fun for me.
2. Have you ever been in the media (TV, Radio, Papers)?
I was on a stupid news segment about the brand new touch screen coke machines, and I was so pissed. No one else would do it. But I did get a hot date and some good dick from a firefighter out of it, so.
3. Do you know anyone who's been on a reality TV show?
Not yet!
4. Have you ever met anyone famous?
I made Taylor Kitsch a smoothie before I knew it was him. I just thought he looked familiar because he was a regular customer, and I embarrassed myself convincing him that using water as a base was disgusting (and he paid extra for the protein add-in!), but when I asked him his name and he said "Taylor" my whole world came crashing down. I had just watched him die in that terrible season of True Detective like two days before and cried like a baby, and here he was standing right there, listening to me blab on about fucking fruit.
I basically had a panic attack making his smoothie, and when I handed it to him I stuttered that he looked like Gambit.
But seriously. Those cheekbones? For real. For real.
He still comes in sometimes, always wearing his motorcycle gear, and it's too much too handle.
5. Who would play you in a movie?
Drew Barrymore.
Everything is falling apart. Slowly, so we don't really notice, like when the lining of your dress starts breaking away from the fabric and you're like, nah nah I can still wear this at least 2 more times. Let me get drunk in this one more time and fall down the stairs, really tear it, then I can throw it away.
I say everything, but my life is going just fine. More or less. And I don't want that to change! Not on such a huge scale. I'm already a millennial, a victim of 30 years of unchecked capitalism and rampant consumerism, and all I want is to continue to want and get things. Really, it's that simple. Stop trying to complicate everything by boycotting Oreos and building a wall. That's not going to work. What capitalism is missing is a level of respect between owner and worker. There's nothing wrong with capitalism, but there is something wrong with removing the human element and disrespecting the very people that are working to make sure your money-making system is working. People fantasize about being that Trump Tower Billionaire, but really all they want is a little extra money to pay their bills and take a vacation and BUY more of what you're already making money off of. Just respect their work ethic, fuck. Make them feel like billionaires. Pay them a little more. Because, wow, when you give us more money, guess what we're going to do?
Spend it.
I shamelessly gave my money to Bryan Singer, and I've honestly never stopped giving money to the X-Men franchise. I don't know why the reviews panned that movie. Every inch of that movie screamed MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND without too many American flags. Maybe people were offended by Sansa's terrible American accent? But what's wrong with a British Jean Gray? And Fassbender, McAvoy, fucking Oscar were killing it. It didn't even feel like a movie, really, more like a bunch of rich kids cosplaying the shit out of their weekend. And the amazing deaths in the beginning? I lost count of how many people were squished by the collapsing pyramid, but the sound effects were hilarious.
It was better than Civil War, so fuck you.
Although Cap/Bucky is better than Professor X/Magneto
But a crying Michael Fassbender trumps all.
There's that word again.
Trump.
Seriously, I'm frightened. Will he take away my summer blockbusters? My right as a human being to go out after 5pm without a male escort? Can I wear short shorts? What if I'm not allowed to bring my Snuggie to the theater anymore? Will he take away Coke Icees? Or is Coke more powerful than the American Presidency? Does Trump own stock in Coke? What about Pepsi?
I met with my friend Laura yesterday. She may offer me a nice side gig as her personal assistant a few hours a week, which would be extra cash toward my Germany spend fund. All the brats and sneakers I can buy. I am going to keep a tally of how many tuna and cucumber sandwiches I eat in London, too, don't worry. Her and I used to work together on her TV show, but our schedules are whacky now, and without Channel Austin deadlines down our throats neither of us can be motivated to finish anything. She has five more episodes to write, and then we can start filming. But I also have all of my own projects I'm working on. And my thumb drive broke, taking all of my vacation photos, writing samples, and my updated resume with it. So I'm fucked, but surprisingly calm about it?
I do have a deadline though. And both Laura and I have created a system where we will keep each other in check weekly. Along with text messages throughout the week, we owe each other something creative every Thursday. Even if it's just like a page of text or an outline, it'll be something. Plus, we both have Final Cut now so I can email her scenes. My homework right now is creating a fake trailer for Drive (I'm going for a Bryan/Ryan romance because who doesn't love Bryan Cranston? and he's just so sad in that movie all the time), and I have until Piss gets back from Jersey to finish it. I spliced some scenes last night, I need to pick out some more Ryan Gosling ones, but I got distracted watching Big Tits' head explode in slow motion. All the bits. And then I watched him stomp that guy's head in. The gore got me, so I stopped because I was clearly not thinking about romance anymore.
Although we all get our heads blown off every once in awhile.
Which brings me to what I'm avoiding talking about the most because I hate when boys start distracting me from my life. And, no joke, Roshi just walked into my house uninvited (she does this all the time; it's beautiful), but again, it's another distraction to stop me, but I'm going to force it out just so it's out and I can stop carrying it around with me...
If you remember that DJ I said wanted to fuck me - Kitchen Kyle - oh, he definitely wanted to fuck. We've definitely fucked. It took him two whole movies to make a move, but then he stuck it right in. And now we text silly videos and Japanese pop music back and forth. We watch anime together, which in and of itself is strange, because I only recently decided to get back into anime when I started realizing how much it influenced by storytelling aesthetic. All these scripts I'm reading and writing, they all have this weird undertone of anime, and so CONVENIENT that as I'm watching my own old DVDs and my nerd bro Danny is hooking me up with new shows every week, this cute skinhead-looking (british skinhead, not a neo-Nazi) white boy has Rurouni Kenshin on VHS. He called out of work on Thursday to hang out with me all day (and I mean ALL day, 11am til I left at 9pm), bought me breakfast, we watched anime all afternoon, it's bizarre. Unexpected, and now I find myself waiting on text messages like a little bitch. I'm trying to roll with it, it's totally casual (right?), and I keep telling myself to just enjoy the attention, the sex, he's respectful, and I can't keep overthinking like girls always do.
But when you send me text messages like "you're really gorgeous and funny and I'm lucky to know you" in-between anime songs, how can I not???
UGH
BOYS
This is where I answer thefridayfive:
1. If you could, would you be a movie star or a rock star?
Movie. It'd be more fun for me.
2. Have you ever been in the media (TV, Radio, Papers)?
I was on a stupid news segment about the brand new touch screen coke machines, and I was so pissed. No one else would do it. But I did get a hot date and some good dick from a firefighter out of it, so.
3. Do you know anyone who's been on a reality TV show?
Not yet!
4. Have you ever met anyone famous?
I made Taylor Kitsch a smoothie before I knew it was him. I just thought he looked familiar because he was a regular customer, and I embarrassed myself convincing him that using water as a base was disgusting (and he paid extra for the protein add-in!), but when I asked him his name and he said "Taylor" my whole world came crashing down. I had just watched him die in that terrible season of True Detective like two days before and cried like a baby, and here he was standing right there, listening to me blab on about fucking fruit.
I basically had a panic attack making his smoothie, and when I handed it to him I stuttered that he looked like Gambit.
But seriously. Those cheekbones? For real. For real.
He still comes in sometimes, always wearing his motorcycle gear, and it's too much too handle.
5. Who would play you in a movie?
Drew Barrymore.