picaresque method of storytelling
Dec. 29th, 2004 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pseydtonneThe older I get, the more I like techno. When I was a kid, I just couldn't stand it. I couldn't be in the same room as the stuff. Now I pipe some version of it or other onto my laptop. I rarely buy any -- I prefer the streams other people create. When I want an album, it's not techno.
I just watched Party Monsters. It stars McCauley Culkin and Seth Green. If it has Seth Green, I'll watch it. Can't be helped. In this case, the reward was intense: it's a great time of a movie about the club kids NYC scene of the Eighties and its stars. I got wrapped into it. Some great music in that movie.
While I was in Utica, I saw Aviator. I didn't even know about it until it became the compromise flick of the evening for Christmas night. I didn't know it was a Scorsese flick until the closing credits rolled. DiCaprio is turning into a good actor, capable of strong movements and emotion. This is good, because the script sucks. All of the actors are fine: Alec Baldwin is as always a fine bad guy (see Clerks Animated for the best version of him as a bad guy), even Gwen Stefani is perfectly suited to her task as the child-girlfriend (seeing that I loathe her as a musician, I'm glad to see she is employable in other aspects of entertainment). However, there is the classic slam-ending of a Scorsese movie and how it challenges you.
Utica's suburbs now have a big-screen cineplex, just like everywhere else. Right across the parking lot is a Cold Stone Creamery. Utica is turning into a part of the rest of America. So, who the fuck can afford to go to these places when all the jobs seem to be at these places?
I have a new trip toy. New to me anyway. I got it at a Christmas party at [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]'s. It's a green rubbery bolus with dozens of tubular tendrils. It rolls so well between the fingers and from palm to palm. It has a scent somewhere between crayons, green apples and addiction.
I IM'd Maggie three weeks ago for the first time since the breakup. I told her the decisions I'd made. She was glad. I IM'd her about three hours ago. She asked me not to talk to her for a while. It's only fair: I'd asked the same of her when I needed to get over her. She'll find me when she's ready.
I have this bed all to myself. So why have I been sleeping on her side of it since I sent her home?
-anyone wanna crash here some night? Dante
I just watched Party Monsters. It stars McCauley Culkin and Seth Green. If it has Seth Green, I'll watch it. Can't be helped. In this case, the reward was intense: it's a great time of a movie about the club kids NYC scene of the Eighties and its stars. I got wrapped into it. Some great music in that movie.
While I was in Utica, I saw Aviator. I didn't even know about it until it became the compromise flick of the evening for Christmas night. I didn't know it was a Scorsese flick until the closing credits rolled. DiCaprio is turning into a good actor, capable of strong movements and emotion. This is good, because the script sucks. All of the actors are fine: Alec Baldwin is as always a fine bad guy (see Clerks Animated for the best version of him as a bad guy), even Gwen Stefani is perfectly suited to her task as the child-girlfriend (seeing that I loathe her as a musician, I'm glad to see she is employable in other aspects of entertainment). However, there is the classic slam-ending of a Scorsese movie and how it challenges you.
Utica's suburbs now have a big-screen cineplex, just like everywhere else. Right across the parking lot is a Cold Stone Creamery. Utica is turning into a part of the rest of America. So, who the fuck can afford to go to these places when all the jobs seem to be at these places?
I have a new trip toy. New to me anyway. I got it at a Christmas party at [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]'s. It's a green rubbery bolus with dozens of tubular tendrils. It rolls so well between the fingers and from palm to palm. It has a scent somewhere between crayons, green apples and addiction.
I IM'd Maggie three weeks ago for the first time since the breakup. I told her the decisions I'd made. She was glad. I IM'd her about three hours ago. She asked me not to talk to her for a while. It's only fair: I'd asked the same of her when I needed to get over her. She'll find me when she's ready.
I have this bed all to myself. So why have I been sleeping on her side of it since I sent her home?
-anyone wanna crash here some night? Dante
