Tom Cruise Requests Your Presence
Hello, my sweet kittens. All of 1.3 of you! I thought that sounded more interesting than 1.5, which has just been done to death.
Today has been an annoying insubstantial day full of a lot of vexing things that are leading absolutely fucking nowhere. Oh yes, they call that "modern living". Kerchoo! And kerBLAM.
That's the sound of my tortured soul hitting a concrete wall. Ah, metaphors!
Anyway, I'm writing to discharge, unwind, unload blah blah fucking blah. Everybody needs a little pick-me up, right? Yes, and they call it Marijuana. No, just kidding. I don't want the entire state of Oregon to get into trouble after all (FACT: my brother and my good friend both confirm that the leisure activity of choice for the town of Eugene, OR is getting high in the basement. And this is a bad thing because?). Actually, I think pot is best smoked once in a blue moon, b/c drugs are addictive things that can lead to other drugs, naturally. Too bad pot is also really fun, although I haven't smoked any in ages, God knows. One could say I'm a little conflicted on the topic. The Nancy Reagan side of me says NO. The other side says, gee, well, once in awhile ain't gonna hurt no one, officer. Truth is, they are illegal for a reason. Although I'm no fascist, no sirree bob.
Now that I've ruined my chances of ever b/c president (of course, all you have to say is, "I didn't inhale" -- possibly the dumbest thing anyone has said, ever, although I liked Mr. Clinton, I did), let's turn to other topics. Like job hunting and having little to do during the day and looking for anything TO do so you don't get bored, like doing the dishes a lot and cleaning up the floor and baking brownies and trying to ensure your anal-retentive brother doesn't notice you, like, ate an entire box of crackers. And trying to move your depressed ass in the direction of sending out more resumes. I've b/c wildly unpicky -- I even looked at the application for police officer today. Huh, maybe I could be a fascist. Except I don't think I could ever be a cop except in fantasies involving me eventually working for Her Majesty's Secret Service and replacing James Bond. Does the man have syphillis or what, people? When is the last time you saw Bond whip out a condom, luvey? I mean, really. Plus I didn't like the Connery Bond, he used to hit women in some of those pictures. No one seemed to complain, 'cause of course they must DESERVE it! Ugh. No, give me Roger Moore any day of the week. Timothy Dalton was boring, that dude who played Bond once didn't resonate enough to make any sort of impression, and Pierce Brosnan plays Bond like a killing machine. I like Mr. Brosnan, but we need a new Bond, people.
And she should be...me. Heh, heh, heh. I have heard that Gerald Butler is in the running (he'd be a very humane Bond, I hereby offer my seal of approval), also I think Hugh Jackman (ABSOLUTELY NO PROBLEM!), and who else...oh yes, Ben Affleck (that vomiting sound is me discarding my dinner -- God, people, just say no again). I'm sure there are others. Maybe Clive Owens (what a very British name)? He'd be a hard-core, Connery-like Bond. Not sure if I want to go there with that. He scared the shit out of me in that movie with Julia Roberts and Natalie Portman and what's-his-face, the pretty one. It'll come to me in a second. Maybe not. Closer, yeah, that's the name. I mean, he was HARDCORE! Geepers. What a strange film that was. The moral of the story is: absolutely farking nothing! Except love is depressing, and "Alice", aka Ms. Portman, was the most truthful one of the bunch. I think. Strippers always have hearts of gold in the movies, except hers was a bit damaged.
But enough about Bond and movies starring people with more money than me or you. Let's talk about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, and the mice still dying in my brother's basement. Bet you didn't expect me to marry those two topics! But wow, that's the joy of writing, I guess. Excuse me, time to pop my meds. OK, done. Anyway, Holmes is now carrying Cruise's child, and Scientologists everywhere wait eagerly with outstretched hands for the moment THE CHOSEN ONE is taken away in a groovy basket surrounded by copies of Dianetics. Years later, after Oprah is finally converted due to Cruise's relentlessness, the child goes forward to host her own talk show. The show generally begins with requests for donations! As if! Go figure!
Ah, whatever. I wonder if Mr. Cruise wants to be Bond, a really short, intense Bond? I would not be surprised, actually. I also wonder if Mr. Cruise likes breakfast cereal and coffee, or if ingesting those things is against the principles of Scientology. Does anyone know?
Goodnight, my dears.
Today has been an annoying insubstantial day full of a lot of vexing things that are leading absolutely fucking nowhere. Oh yes, they call that "modern living". Kerchoo! And kerBLAM.
That's the sound of my tortured soul hitting a concrete wall. Ah, metaphors!
Anyway, I'm writing to discharge, unwind, unload blah blah fucking blah. Everybody needs a little pick-me up, right? Yes, and they call it Marijuana. No, just kidding. I don't want the entire state of Oregon to get into trouble after all (FACT: my brother and my good friend both confirm that the leisure activity of choice for the town of Eugene, OR is getting high in the basement. And this is a bad thing because?). Actually, I think pot is best smoked once in a blue moon, b/c drugs are addictive things that can lead to other drugs, naturally. Too bad pot is also really fun, although I haven't smoked any in ages, God knows. One could say I'm a little conflicted on the topic. The Nancy Reagan side of me says NO. The other side says, gee, well, once in awhile ain't gonna hurt no one, officer. Truth is, they are illegal for a reason. Although I'm no fascist, no sirree bob.
Now that I've ruined my chances of ever b/c president (of course, all you have to say is, "I didn't inhale" -- possibly the dumbest thing anyone has said, ever, although I liked Mr. Clinton, I did), let's turn to other topics. Like job hunting and having little to do during the day and looking for anything TO do so you don't get bored, like doing the dishes a lot and cleaning up the floor and baking brownies and trying to ensure your anal-retentive brother doesn't notice you, like, ate an entire box of crackers. And trying to move your depressed ass in the direction of sending out more resumes. I've b/c wildly unpicky -- I even looked at the application for police officer today. Huh, maybe I could be a fascist. Except I don't think I could ever be a cop except in fantasies involving me eventually working for Her Majesty's Secret Service and replacing James Bond. Does the man have syphillis or what, people? When is the last time you saw Bond whip out a condom, luvey? I mean, really. Plus I didn't like the Connery Bond, he used to hit women in some of those pictures. No one seemed to complain, 'cause of course they must DESERVE it! Ugh. No, give me Roger Moore any day of the week. Timothy Dalton was boring, that dude who played Bond once didn't resonate enough to make any sort of impression, and Pierce Brosnan plays Bond like a killing machine. I like Mr. Brosnan, but we need a new Bond, people.
And she should be...me. Heh, heh, heh. I have heard that Gerald Butler is in the running (he'd be a very humane Bond, I hereby offer my seal of approval), also I think Hugh Jackman (ABSOLUTELY NO PROBLEM!), and who else...oh yes, Ben Affleck (that vomiting sound is me discarding my dinner -- God, people, just say no again). I'm sure there are others. Maybe Clive Owens (what a very British name)? He'd be a hard-core, Connery-like Bond. Not sure if I want to go there with that. He scared the shit out of me in that movie with Julia Roberts and Natalie Portman and what's-his-face, the pretty one. It'll come to me in a second. Maybe not. Closer, yeah, that's the name. I mean, he was HARDCORE! Geepers. What a strange film that was. The moral of the story is: absolutely farking nothing! Except love is depressing, and "Alice", aka Ms. Portman, was the most truthful one of the bunch. I think. Strippers always have hearts of gold in the movies, except hers was a bit damaged.
But enough about Bond and movies starring people with more money than me or you. Let's talk about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, and the mice still dying in my brother's basement. Bet you didn't expect me to marry those two topics! But wow, that's the joy of writing, I guess. Excuse me, time to pop my meds. OK, done. Anyway, Holmes is now carrying Cruise's child, and Scientologists everywhere wait eagerly with outstretched hands for the moment THE CHOSEN ONE is taken away in a groovy basket surrounded by copies of Dianetics. Years later, after Oprah is finally converted due to Cruise's relentlessness, the child goes forward to host her own talk show. The show generally begins with requests for donations! As if! Go figure!
Ah, whatever. I wonder if Mr. Cruise wants to be Bond, a really short, intense Bond? I would not be surprised, actually. I also wonder if Mr. Cruise likes breakfast cereal and coffee, or if ingesting those things is against the principles of Scientology. Does anyone know?
Goodnight, my dears.
posted by lakeofthelongsun72 at 4:21 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home