As you have probably guessed by the title, this movie is about a prehistoric shark that looks like a dinosaur. Here is an image of it for those of you who are curious but too lazy to Google it:

HOLY FUCK

It looks like the geniuses at Bob’s Liquor and Motion Graphics put together some Shark-Whale-Tyrannosaurus Rex hybrid and gave it the terrifying name of Dinoshark (or, as they mention in the movie, “Prehisaurus”. I can’t make this shit up).

Anyway, here’s a quick summary of what goes on in this movie. I put a lot of research into this so it will be relative as fuck: Main Mexican (I think he was Mexican… or trying hard to be but failed) guy returns to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico to take care of someone’s boat while that person is away smuggling pot into the United States. Failed Mexican meets up with crappy acting friends, one who ends up being eaten by Dinoshark soon after. Failed Mexican and hot chick friend find out that it’s some strange dino-shark thingy that ate their friend so they become determined to destroy it. The next sixty minutes consist of them going after it, retards blocking their way, failing to kill it,  and almost getting eaten. Now, of course, Dinoshark is hungry (because it has been frozen for 150 million years, more on that later) so it eats the fuck out of many unsuspecting tourists while it vacations in lovely Mexico. Oddly enough, this huge monster can swim like a saint without making a single sound, so when it eats someone no one else around even notices. This is what makes Dinoshark so terrifying… you’ll never know he’s coming even though he’s the size of a freight bus, his huge top fin peaks above water, and he is killing everyone around you. Holy shit.

At the very ass end of the movie, Failed Mexican tries to kill it by simultaneously jumping off a jet-ski and throwing a grenade into its side. This, however awesome it may be, fails to kill it so his hot chick friend shoots a tiny harpoon into its eye. This doesn’t make Dinoshark go blind… it kills him instantly. Then credits roll.

The best parts of the movie are when it’s so outrageous that it’s funny:

• When the Dinoshark jumps straight up out of the water and snatches a helicopter, dragging it down with him (of course, it explodes on impact with water).
• When Dinoshark nips at people and they explode and their limbs go flying off.
• When Dinoshark eats entire fucking boats.
• When Dinoshark FLIES (yup).
• When these actors try to act.
• The fact that someone actually spent time writing this movie and thought it was good enough to produce.

Oh, and Dinoshark got here by having its babies frozen in a glacier for over 150 million years before the glacier breaks apart and the ice quickly melts underwater releasing the babies. I blame this on global warming**. This goes to show that if we don’t act now, and stop global warming, we will have Dinosharks and 150 degree temps to deal with (scientific fact).

Told ya, it flies. Physics, lol

* Sarcasm is noted in italics

** Global warming is no laughing matter. Lol

This is a video post. Click on the title to view.

Here is an awesome song off of Photek’s new EP entitled “Avalanche” that just came out on Feb. 28th. If you know me personally then you know that I am a little obsessed with his music and he is definitely my favorite drum & bass artist. He’s experimenting with dubstep, now. Dude can’t go wrong. Give it a listen. If you like it, you can get the EP from here: Photek.fm

To me it’s better than paying $10,000 for a few people to stare at my dead body, only to bury me six feet under ground in an over-priced box, that some necrophiliac will rob five years later to rape my corpse.

Just my personal preference. Mind sharing yours?

Fast forward to today. I am 26 years old and all I write in is a blog online. I lose.

LULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLz

“This might seem weird, but you really, really remind me of the best friend I’ve ever had. My friend’s name was [insert random name]. You look the same, you act the same, you have the same mannerisms, and you exhibit the same depth of humanity. When I see you, I see [that name]. But ten years ago, [that friend] died in a boating accident. That accident still feels like it happened yesterday. I’ve never gotten over it. And because of that, all I can think about whenever I see you is this dead friend of mine. It blocks out everything else in my consciousness, including your first name. I always want to call you [that friend's name]. It’s the only name my brain will accept.

“Also, I am an alcoholic.”

The best response to being arrested for carrying an unlicensed handgun into a nightclub and accidentally shooting yourself in the leg, thereby jeopardizing your pro football career:

“First of all, you people probably don’t know anyone who’s been shot. I, however, know lots of people who’ve been shot. In fact, I know lots of people who claim they want to shoot me, and some of these people are technically my friends. So that’s why I carry a gun. Second, you people probably trust the government, and you probably trust it because your personal experience with law enforcement has been positive. I’ve had the opposite experience all my life. I’m afraid of the government. I’m afraid of the world, and you can’t give me one valid reason why I shouldn’t be. So that’s why I did not apply for a gun license. Third, I shot myself in the leg, which is both painful and humiliating. What else do I need to go through in order to satiate your desire to see me chastised? The penalty for carrying an unlicensed weapon is insane. How can carrying an unlicensed firearm be worse than firing a licensed one? I broke the law, but the law I broke is a bad law. Would you be satisfied if the penalty for unlawful gun possession was getting shot in the leg? Because that already fucking happened!”

The best response to a police officer who’s just asked the question “Have you been drinking tonight?”:

“That’s a great question, and I totally understand why you’re asking it. I can see where you’re coming from, sir. I realize my behavior seems a little erratic. I smell vaguely of alcohol, I’m in a motor vehicle, and it’s three o’clock in the morning. It’s a unique circumstance. But I’m not intoxicated. I’m distraught. I’m a hyper-emotional person who can’t accept the inherent unfairness of the universe. Have you ever read Arthur Schopenhauer? You know, that dead German pessimist? He once said that the vanity of existence is revealed in the form that existence assumes: in the infiniteness of time and space contrasted with the finiteness of the individual in both; in the fleeting present as the sole form in which actuality exists; in the contingency and relativity of all things; in continual becoming without being; in continual desire without satisfaction; in the continual frustration of striving of which life consists. Crazy, right? I don’t really get what he’s saying. But I do know this, officer: That’s how I feel all the time. And to make matters worse, I’m an insomniac. I haven’t slept more than two hours in any given night since I was sixteen. That’s why I’m awake right now, wandering the roadways of quasi-reality, living my wretched, vampiric existence. I suppose you could say I was suicidal, but too depressed to kill myself. And then, when I saw the rolling blue lights of your squad car in my rearview mirror, I realized that nothing I could say or do would reflect positively on my condition. The game was over. I’ve lost. Why fight it? I pulled over to the side of the road, depressed the parking brake, turned off my vehicle, and imbibed one full shot of Bombay gin, which I happen to keep in the glove box of my car, precisely for this type of situation. That is the alcohol you smell. In fact, it’s still coating the inside of my mouth. Which also means that if you give me a Breathalyzer right now, the remnants of the alcohol will still be there, so I’ll fail the test, even though I’m not intoxicated. So to answer your original question – yes. I have been drinking. I’ve had exactly one drink tonight, thirty seconds ago, in response to the hopelessness of existence. Do I still need a lawyer?”

The best response to being caught in an illicit homosexual relationship after spending much of your political career pushing antigay legislation and campaigning on a family values platform:

“I will concede that I am more confused than the average person. I’ve spent my entire life denying who I truly was. But my motive for that denial was political, even before I was a politician. I always believed that I could serve the greater good by advancing myself into a position of power, and – in order to make that a reality – the compromise I made was to attack the social mores that were extensions of everything I feared about myself. I felt extremely guilty for doing this, and I felt as though I deserved to be punished. My religious upbringing dictated retribution. So by publicly criticizing the gay community, I felt like I was silently punishing myself. Now, I was totally aware that this was hypocritical, and that hypocrisy consumed me. It was all I ever thought about. It became so pervasive within my consciousness that I found myself acting upon my own suppressed desires. I became romantically involved with someone of my own gender, completely aware that this could destroy me politically. That was part of the attraction. Sadly, I enjoyed feeling self-destructive. When that relationship became more intense, I began to accept that I was gay. And that’s why I kept pushing for laws that hurt the gay community. Political duplicity was the only way I could confront my own personal demons. I deeply apologize for hurting other people, but the only person I was trying to hurt was myself.

“Also, I am an alcoholic.”

Perhaps I unconsciously assumed I would learn something about myself through this process, although I have no idea what that could possibly be. Maybe it was just the desire to watch myself live.

Pundits like to claim that a game like The Sims taps into the human preoccupation with voyeurism, but it’s really the complete opposite. I don’t care about peeping into anyone else’s keyhole; I only want to see into Tina’s.

I designed my digital self as accurately as possible: fair skin, untamed hair, monochrome clothing. Outlining my character’s personality traits was a little more complicated, because nobody (myself included) truly knows how they act.

I’ve never met anyone I’d classify as self-aware: It’s been my experience that most extroverted people think they’re introverts, and many introverted people make a similarly wrong-headed juxtaposition about being extroverts. Maybe that’s why extroverts won’t shut up (because they always fear they’re not talking enough) while introverts just sit on the couch and do nothing (because they assume everybody is waiting for them to be quiet). People just have no clue about their genuine nature. I have countless friends who describe themselves as “cynical,” and they’re all wrong. True cynics would never classify themselves as such, because it would mean that they know their view of the world is unjustly negative; despite their best efforts at being grumpy, a self-described cynic is secretly optimistic about normal human nature. Individuals who are truly cynical will always insist they’re pragmatic. The same goes for anyone who claims to be “creative.” If you define your personality as creative, it only means you understand what is perceived to be creative by the world at large, so you’re really just following a rote creative template. That’s the opposite of creativity.

Everybody is wrong about everything, just about all the time.

ANYWAY, I eventually created a Tina in my own image and dropped her into 6 Sim Lane, a $15,000 home on the outskirts of some underdeveloped suburb of SimCity. For about fifteen minutes, I wandered about the empty residential lots of Sim Village, trying to start conversations with inanimate objects. A friend of mine, who was an avid fan of the game, couldn’t help but notice my ineptitude and immediately tried to show me how the game was played (and – inadvertently – how existence works, although I doubt he would have explained it that way).

My friend displayed amazing dexterity at The Sims, effortlessly building a home and furnishing it with a ton of household goods. He then instructed me to find a job and to make friends with other Sim citizens, especially the male ones (this was somewhat predictable, as He profoundly enjoyed asking me if I have a boyfriend).

However, I immediately had dozens of questions for my friend about my new life: If I don’t yet have a job, how could I afford this residence? Who put all that food in my fridge? Elves, perhaps? Can I trust them? Why don’t I need a car? Where did I go to college? Don’t I have any old friends I could call for moral support? “This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.” Well, how did I get here?

These questions did not interest Him. “You just live here,” he said. “That’s the way it is.” But where did I get all this money? “You just have money.” But where did I come from? “Nobody knows. You’re just here.” Am I one of the 55 million Americans living without health insurance? “Be quiet! You won’t get sick.” This went on for several minutes, finally ending in a stalemate when my friend had to leave. However, something struck me about this dialogue: It was uncharacteristic for Him to be so unwilling to tell harmless lies. But, somehow, things are different when life is constructed on a sixteen-inch screen; in the world of The Sims, my friend won’t color outside the lines of perception. The rules become fixed.

Fabricating a Sim-human’s back-story would be pointless. Those facts aren’t available to anyone. Clearly, video technology cages imagination; it offers interesting information to use, but it implies that all peripheral information is irrelevant and off-limits. Computers make us advance faster, but they also make us think like computers.

(to be continued)…

This is one of the things that I hate most about the technology we have now days. It has made people careless and lazy.

If you have little to no knowledge of what you are being asked about then telling someone to “Google” the answer isn’t such a bad thing. But when you know plenty about the subject at hand, stop being such an ignorant, lazy fuck and just give your own answer and/or opinion. It only takes a few minutes. It’s not that hard. The world isn’t going to end just because you took a little bit of time to actually use your brain. It’s not as complicated as it seems.

If you have the knowledge then take advantage of it. Why store it if you do not plan to use it? Or, better yet, just keep sending everyone to Google in your efforts to, one day, become completely useless.

I love a lot of the technology we have today, but it has also made things too easy on us. May as well let our computers do all of our thinking and talking.

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We’re all going to die, anyway.

I intend to deserve it.