Horror Film Characters Are Fucks

Really, what the fuck is wrong with people in horror films? No, no, other than everything?

I'll give it to movies. They really know how to hold one's attention--at least in spurts--for a solid 2 hours. However, in the genre of horror, much is left to be desired. Namely, everything. But to be more specific, intelligence. I'm not going to waste your time with some overly analytical synopsis of any movies in the genre, nor am I going to analyze the genre itself. I'm just going to say something that would all save us a lot of time, money, labor, and frustration. There is one way for all problems in horror films to be solved.

Here it is...

Stop being retarded you horror film character fucks. When a dude is creeping on you from the minute you move into your new, turn of the century, most likely dilapidated house, leave. Yeah. Just get out, man. You wouldn't hang around very long ifyou thought a convicted rapist was roaming your house, so why would you be content with going about your daily routine with random shit popping out at you every time you open a shower curtain or close a medicine cabinet. The fucking thing's probably a murderer or a rapist itself, only this time it has supernatural powers. And it had to do something super-fucked up to become a trapped soul in the first place. Probably some crazy shit, too, like rape a cat while plotting a jewel heist, the money from which would fund a plane-ticket, a suitcase, toiletries, a roll of duct-tape, a knife, and a small bottle of lube as part of a master plan to rape all of the Republican congresswomen. Yeah, a fucking beastiality obsessed psycho rapist-murderer with supernatural powers formerly bent on raping members of Congress. And no, not Roofies. Supernatural powers. Like, it can pin you down with energy fields and skullfuck you with ectoplasm. Sounds fun, right? Like something you want to spend your Sunday afternoon reading a nice Mitch Albom novel around? Fuck no. Get the fuck out of the house, stop wasting my money, and eat shit. Oh, and how the fuck do all of these creepy ass houses and shit stay intact and livable? Aren't there agencies that shut that shit down after a while? Like, don't neighbors smell something weird when a house's walls are literally stuffed Stove-Top style with corpses? And wouldn't neighbors also say something when the big, gimpy dude who always rode to school on a bus that was a little bit shorter than the others kids' starts wearing skin masks around while performing rain-dances with a chainsaw? Fuck yes they would. And that's why horror films blow. They are stupid, impossible, and just a cyclical series of dramatic orchestra crescendos and quick movements. And, have you ever seen the "ectoplasm" in A Haunting in Connecticut? Nope. Doesn't happen. I think all that ectoplasm talk was just to make Stoners like me laugh when they talked about how sticky it was, how it came out of some dudes throat, and how it got all up in some bitches eyes and nose. That's why horror films suck; they can't be taken seriously. Period.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton

Ectoplasm:

A skullfucking from beyond.

Drugs and Money

"Dolla...Dolla...Bills, Ya'll."

Before you feed me some typical, sentence interrupting response in the vein of "You're a wigger" or "You're penis is way to small for you to be acting like you're black" or "I'm a pretentious whore who has way too much self-confidence given my looks and reputation," let me get a few more words in. There are three things you should know about me:

One: I like drugs.

Two: I like money.

Three: I don't care what you think, asshole.

Since you've come to my blog to have your ovaries rocked by funny stories, intriguing analyses of the human condition, and my stalwart air of course yet cushiony machismo and overt sexuality, I figured I'd say "blow me" for once and write about something else that's as awesome as I.

"'Drugs and Money?' Are you going to talk about how you're a pharmacy major and pharmacists make lots of money and handle lots of drugs?! *giggle-snort*"

No. No, I'm not. Though it is true, and I do indeed have a hefty appreciation and affinity for green of all varieties, textures, and weights, I thought I'd write about something else fucking awesome, the HBO series "Eastbound & Down." In case you've never been able to experience the woundrous spectacle that is "Eastbound & Down," let me give you a little taste of what the deal is. Danny McBride plays a former--and once dominant-- MLB pitcher named Kenny Powers, who, after his career goes off the deep end, is forced to return to his home town and take a job teaching Phys. Ed. at his former middle school. Here, he is forced to encounter his ex-girl friend, April Buchannon, and her happy-go-lucky fiance, Principal Terrence Cutler.

Now, instead of giving you some bullshit review about how the show is raunchy, yet retains its dignity in its simplicity and heart, I'm just gonna lay some quotes down on your ass.

"I don’t mean to break up the fun here, but I just saw two boys raping a
sixth grader…Just kidding."

"I’m the man with the ball. I’m the man who can throw it faster than fuck. So that is why I’m better than everyone else in the world. Kiss my ass and suck my dick, everyone."

"Listen here, you beautiful bitch. I'm about to fuck you up with some truth."

"I got the fame, the money, the jewels, the cash, the Denali, gettin' drunk on the reg', good times on the reg', yachts on the reg', sex on the reg'...”

"[Visa] Gold might get you tickets to the Jonas Brothers; [Visa] Black will get all three of them sucking your dick!"

"If at first you don’t succeed, then maybe you just suck."

"The fastest way to a woman’s heart is through her bra."

"This is a real job. It aint like teachin kids, I can’t just get fucked up"

[to Principal Cutler when he tellsKenny he's a triathlete]: "I play a real sport for real men, not trying to be the best at fucking exercising."

"I’m gonna buttfuck this party.

"I've got an arm like a cannon, a cock like a python, and the mind of a scientist."

"How about I finger you with my penis?"

"Fundamentals are just a crutch for the talentless."

"You're fucking out!"

Ok. I'm tired of writing quotes. Just watch the fucking show.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton

Just have a seat, Mohammed_187921. Just...have a seat.

Well. My blog has finally reached 200 hits. Thank You to all those who took time out of their day to give my little corner of cyberspace some TLC. She greatly appreciates it.

Anyway, my computer recently broke. Nothing would come on the screen and would only display some jank-ass checkerboard image when hooked up to an external monitor. Awesome. I've fully realized in my ownership of my Dell Inspiron 1420 that Tech support done via phone is a coy mistress. Though seemingly the more expedited way of troubleshooting computer, talking to an Indian/Middle-Eastern native can prove to be very tricky when it comes to trying to understand what they are saying. Because of this, I opted to use Dell's Online Chat. Worst mistake I ever made.

When I logged on to Dell's Online Chat, I was greeted by "Mohammed_187921" as he called himself. He seemed nice and very interested in me and my problems. Mohammed_187921 also seemed very thankful that he met me at that juncture in his life and definitely wasted no time in trying to make me feel comfortable in talking to him:

2:11:05 PM Mohammed_187921
Thank you for contacting Dell Hardware Support. My name is Mohammed and my rep ID number is 187921 . How may I help you today?

2:12:02 PM Jordan Pelton.
Yeah
2:12:08 PM Jordan Pelton
my laptop screen comes up black
2:12:15 PM Jordan Pelton
ive restarted numerous times
2:12:28 PM Jordan Pelton
and have tried a variety of troubleshooting measures
2:12:55 PM Jordan Pelton
i actually was just disconnected from another rep online

2:13:06 PM Mohammed_187921
Okay.
2:14:11 PM Mohammed_187921
Please allow me 2-3 minutes while I check with the previous case log and help you accordingly.
2:16:47 PM Mohammed_187921
Thank you for staying connected.

And, in fact, I was very impressed. He also began to take a keen interest in my personal affairs which made me feel that much more at ease. For a man I had just met, I really felt I had known Mohammed_187921 my entire life:

2:17:32 PM Mohammed_187921
Jordan, what happened when you connected the external screen to the Inspiron 1420?

2:17:37 PM Jordan Pelton
nothing
2:17:47 PM Jordan Pelton
it came up on the monitor i used
2:18:04 PM Jordan Pelton
1: Auto Detect (analog input)
2:18:23 PM Jordan Pelton
Cannot display (something)

2:18:37 PM Mohammed_187921
So, the monitor that you connected, you were able to see the display - correct?

He really made me feel like I was someone special. I was so at ease and felt like I needed to let him know how special he was to me, too:

2:20:46 PM Jordan Pelton
thank you

I really felt like I could trust Mohammed_187921. He knew this. He soon got me to start experimenting:

2:20:08 PM Mohammed_187921
You will have to connect an external monitor and then press + to stream the video on the external screen. Make sure that the external screen is connected properly.

2:20:31 PM Jordan Pelton
let me try

2:20:43 PM Mohammed_187921
Sure.

2:24:57 PM Jordan Pelton
okay
2:25:01 PM Jordan Pelton
an image came up
2:25:07 PM Jordan Pelton
but it was horribly distorted

The only thing that was really distorted was my mental state. But that wasn't enough. Mohammed_187921 wanted to make sure he had me wrapped around his finger before he took things to the next level:

2:33:26 PM Mohammed_187921
We will now run a test on the system.

2:33:33 PM Jordan Pelton
cool

2:33:36 PM Mohammed_187921
Please shut the laptop down.
2:33:41 PM Mohammed_187921
:)

2:33:48 PM Jordan Pelton
done

I should have known something was wrong. I knew I should'nt have started talking to him. But he just made me feel so amazing, that he really cared. And maybe he did. But not about me, only about himself. Bastard. I started to think something was amiss when he started sending me emoticons. I really wanted to get out, but something about him--perhaps his charisma, or his will--just kept me connected to him. I began to question him:

2:35:20 PM Jordan Pelton
should i do that?

2:35:37 PM Mohammed_187921
No issues, I will stay connected while you run the test on the system.

But it wasn't me running the test. Just him. He then took things to the next level is asking me personal information:

2:42:56 PM Mohammed_187921
In the mean while, may I know the name of the person on whose name the system is registered?
2:46:57 PM Mohammed_187921
May I have the shipping address please?
2:47:58 PM Mohammed_187921
May I have the contact numbers as well - please?

Now the red flares of sexual predatorism went off. I tried to back away:

2:48:28 PM Jordan Pelton
i have no idea

However, Mohammed_187921 used his own rescources:

2:50:27 PM Mohammed_187921
Michael pelton is the person on whose name the system is registered

I panicked.

2:52:40 PM Mohammed_187921
:)

And with that, the conversation between Mohammed_187921 and I came to a close. I think he got worried that I was getting so inquisitve toward the end of our time together, and rightly so. Still, I wake up every morning, scared. Scared that Mohammed_187921 will be there, standing over me, stealing my innocence once again.

My computer got fixed though. Sweet Deal.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton

Ummm...anyone got a soapbox?

Here at The University, students spend countless hours and sleepless nights pondering answers and seeking explanations to their burning questions and concerns about the school. Luckily, the administration has coordinated a heroic effort to help these students rest at ease: "The Coffeehouse with President." Once a quarter, the much hyped, campus-wide event draws about 17 people who toss out some of the most heated topics with which any university has ever dealt ("Why is Professor Johns getting three alumni magazines? That's ridiculous!"), all while those in attendance dine upon pseudo-handcrafted baked goods, store bought lemonade, and stale coffee. Yum. President does his best to answer these questions as long-windedly as possible and, if it's not in his area of expertise, he hands it off to another member of the administration who does an equally good job answering a Yes-or-No question in about 15 minutes. Apparently, I'm not the only one who knows that the longer you take to explain something, the more people will believe what you just said.

I went to my second one of these gatherings last night with Jeff, a fellow fraternity member. Jeff is known for his ability to find loop-holes in anything and everything. He's the kind of guy that stirs the pot not because he doesn't want the soup to scald, but because it can and should be stirred. He doesn't like soup though, so that analogy was poor. My bad. Anyway, Jeff and I always sit in amazement as the members of the administration dance around questions that actually mean something, might affect people's college lives, or have answers said people would not want to hear. Tonight, a random kid asked if President had anything to say about Greek life. Infamously in the Greek community at the University, his response always boils down to the phrase "I'm not anti-Greek." Speaking from experience, he's sure as hell isn't pro-Greek either. Sure enough, President went on a tangent about how the purpose of the Greek community has changed from when he was in school (The Greek Community is pointless), we are known as booze house (we give the campus a bad name), and, even so, he is not "anti-Greek (hmmm, never heard that before)."

One thing struck me though, and that was when he said, in response to claims that Greeks are treated unfairly especially when it comes to alcohol, "Greeks can't have a different standard." This set me on fire. However, by the time I was about to challenge his statement, the only people left were those balls deep in President and just think he's an ethical, cute old man who is an avid jogger. Aww.

I, however, see through his shit. If I did have a question tonight, it would have gone something like this:

"Yeah, I have a question. Dr. President, you mentioned earlier that Greeks 'can't have a different standard.' That is horse shit. You know we do, and, in fact, it is that we are held--unfairly--to a higher, nonsensical standard."

Here, he would somehow try to qualify what he said, and try to spin the standard to be a good thing, or something we should relish in or be proud of. That's when I chime back:

"But, you know that is completely false. You even said that the alcohol problem lies in the fact the underagers are served alcohol in our house, which coincidentally is an untrue statement. Even if it wasn't, you wouldn't know because that's not what you, your administration, and rules are about. They are all about living some impossible, perfectly moral fantasy you have built in your head, the only place that idea could ever exist. Every time we at Sigma Pi were "caught partying," a term I use loosely, it was for under three cases of beer (not hard alcohol). Even if we were serving underagers, which we were not, you, again, wouldn't know, because the uebermensch security officers your administration hired don't check I.D.'s; they just see some beer and assume there is a party.

You don't think that's true, that your officers and administrators don't use and exhibit the discretion and professionalism you try to act like they do in their jobs? That's funny, because last Halloween, one empty--yes, empty--beer can was found on our drinking fountain right next to our trash can. Furthermore, the can was claimed by an alumnus, who obviously does not go to the school. However, security wrote a report, and we were put on social probation, the same punishment one would receive for throwing a 50 case party with 200 people. Back to your idea that we 'can't be held to a different standard.' We are. We got caught with that beer can, and the entire fraternity which has existed for over 95 years was put in jeopardy. However, if that can was found in the dorms, nothing happens. Surely, the residents of the hall don't get punished, and definitely not the R.A.'s. If anyone does get punished, it is an individual. Fraternity house: everyone. Dorm: someone. If that isn't a double standard, I don't know what is."

Then I'd sit down. What his response would be, I do not know. It'd probably be long-winded and end with me being escorted off campus by police. Who knows, maybe someday I'll get some balls and ask.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton