So My Cat is an Über Haxzor

If this blog is really a representation of the happenings of my life, it would be very sad, since it would mean in the past few months I've had a couple of random thoughts and bought a cool jacket. Something that was a very huge part of my life that somehow never got mentioned was the induction of a new member of the family. He is a cat. He is a kitty cat. He does dance dance dance. He also dance dance dances. His name is Bender Bending Rodriguez in honor of the gray, mischievous, and lovable character from Futurama. The television star, Bender ha hecho en Mexico, and we have no idea where our little rascal was made. He's from the streets. You would never know except that hosted a drive by once while driving to Del Taco. To be fair, the hooligans trying to drunkenly pretend to drive a car through the drive thru definitely did deserve what was coming to them.

In any case, we found him and domesticated the shit out of him. He is now a five pound sleek body of fur that spends most of its time resting in armpits or in the crevice of lower backs. When he is not being ridiculously lazy, photogenic, or eating, our little Bender has began on a world domination plot so devious, even he hasn't conceived it yet.

One of Bender's hobbies has been to be a surprised kitten and then a keyboard cat. He first thought his entitled bed was my laptop keyboard. Being raised with a silver keyboard in hand, Bender has always been good with technology. His track record for hacking skills include minimizing windows in slow motion, renaming applications and corrupting them, and typing encrypted messages to contacts of mine on the inside. It has been reported that today, he has officially begun Operation Fuck Up Zander's Computer by opening up some function that loudly narrates every keystroke, every clicked file, and every movement on the computer. Everything I do is now being closely monitored. It's only a matter of time before his efforts pay off and the world is his. For now, he's either licking his leg or getting fiesty with someone's underarm. More on this story as it develops!

The Bodacious Baptism of Bon Jacket

To begin, I love thrift shopping. On the application FourSquare, I have established myself as the mayor of both Salvation Army and Goodwill. I hope that being entrusted with my community will be able to make some change in these peoples' lives. As their mayor, my first order of business is to thrift a lot. And I mean a ton. Competitively. Like a sport. Though, being the mayor also means I must gracefully throw in the towel (75% if they have 3 or more stains) to allow others to have the generous bounty.

With frequenting these discount clothing stores, you come to realize that pretty much everything in the store except one magical article of clothing is valued at the equivalent of a nonchalant middle finger. I can look through hundreds of shirts from lame company BBQs only to be saddened to realize that the few awesome (or hilariously ironic) clothing is at least 2XL. Until the event happened.

I'll admit, I got some unusual looks while searching the women's jacket section with my friend, Kyle, but with so much to gain, that is insignificant. After groping through numerous creepy types of fabric, my hands landed on the winner. The jackpot. The goldmine. The jacket it landed on was my destiny. It is a light brown suede jacket that is EXTREMELY* soft in the entire interior. I fell in love. I wore it. Just my size, of course. I paid for it, departed and since then I've felt that much more like Bon Jovi. And that was the birth... of Bon Jacket.

Coming soon to a party on top of you!

*understatement

Knotts Scary Farm Traffic Officially Named Douchiest in the Nation

In a field study conducted by the Lukewarmer Investigatory Squadron of Doom, it was determined that the traffic on the from Interstate 5 North to 91 West up until the exit for Knotts Scary Farm was considered by far the nation's douchiest traffic.

Usually, traffic can be considered bothersome, aggravating, or even mentally-challenged due to its slow nature, but the traffic on the way to the farm of fears involved a lot of off-color behavior for what is considered "usual" traffic.

Such shenanigans included one man crashing into another car, claiming that he wanted the car in front of him--which he annihilated pretty fully--to tow him the rest of the way because he was sleepy. Another man caught in the not actually moving traffic turned off his car, got out, found a baseball bat and started rampaging toward the farm. It seemed like something out of a movie.

Another person stood on their car scalping tickets to the Biggest Pussy Competition and spat on people as they passed by his vehicle. In addition, Creed apparently played a very exclusive concert in one of the minivans. Only one person was listening, but he was still pretty disgusted.

All in all, if you want to get to the Scary Farm, don't take I-5, 91W, or any annoying bitches that get scared by cars moving a fraction of a mile per hour. Just go have sex instead. I promise, there will be as many thrills, a lot more kinetic movement, and you can save yourself $40 and having to witness the bane of humankind in traffic form.

And that traffic bit me. If it was a person, I'd totally punch it in the face.

The Banner for this Blog is the First Ever to Have Sex

I know what you're thinking. This banner is awesome. It is genetically engineered to be as kick-your-face amazing as it can be. This one goes to 11. One testimonial boldly claims, "Everyone will read your blog because of the banner. It ejaculates awesome." That being held in mind, this graphical amalgamation of what makes men at a party last night successfully initiated and completed a sexing.

Whilst being rather controversial and technically "impossible" the banner, Duke Vietnam (apparently has his own name), and had sex with a girl who was firmly confirmed as a 9 out of 10 in hotness. "I didn't use words. She eye fucked me until she penis fucked me," fucking screams Duke Vietnam. This girl not only was a virgin, she experienced a record 13 orgasms, and apparently won't stop calling Duke Vietnam. He reportedly is very disappointed with himself for giving his number to her. "We fucked so loud we got a domestic disturbance call and kept going while the cops busted down the door and interrogated us," annihilates Duke Vietnam.

Some people were doubtful of Duke Vietnam's ability to have sex, due to being an image file. Some people doubted his ability to "get laid" due to having a unicorn in the middle of his beautiful likeness. But let's be real. Horses are badass. A horse + a weapon = a much more badass creature. Duke Vietnam claims that before the sex was over his penis was given the nickname "Apocaplyse POW." Goddamit Duke Vietnam, I'm glad you're on our side.

Fuzzy Houdini: A Conspiracy Theory About Missing Socks

There comes a time in every man's life when he must do his own laundry.

Usually when a sentence starts out as epic as that, it's the beginning of a valiant quest to save a damsel in distress. Sometimes it starts off the talk about where the pee pee hibernates for winter. Sometimes it's used in a coming of age tale of a child who has a crippling disease and for his/her last dying wish wants to take pictures throughout Europe. [Seriously, why are most student-made films at Chapman about kids with diseases taking pictures in Europe. How can a topic this specific be so popular. ]

Whatever the tale that is about to unfold, this conspiracy theory is about a particular article of clothing that has been known for centuries as being the most intelligent among fabrical beings. This clothic organism which I refer to is, of course, the sock. No other article of clothing has the intellect and sheer sneakiness to be able to plot escape tactics and execute them to vanish without a trace. I was tempted to name one of my socks Fuzzy Houdini, but he disappeared before I had the chance... a true escape artist; a master of his craft.

This story is about one such sock that was captured whilst making his daring escape. In a mass load, a flock of socks was spotted during their getaway and one was grabbed and interrogated. This is the transcript of the events:

Code Name J: Who do you work for? Where the fuck are you running?

Sock: I'll never tell you fucking anything, you piece of shit.

Code Name J: I don't give a shit what it takes; I'm gonna get a name out of you!

Sock: I'd like to see you fucking try.

Code Name J: Why the fuck do the socks all try to escape?

Sock: Some of us just want to run. Being in a hamper cramps my style, man.

Code Name J: My god! You mean--

Sock: Yes, every sock is gathering to run a marathon for breast cancer that is secretly not giving money to breast cancer, but rather for total fabrical domination.

Code Name J: Oh dear God--

All that can be heard on the rest of the recording is a gut-wrenching punch and a maniacal laugh and some footsteps.

On a side note, those socks are fucking expensive. They better be going to kids in Africa or at least curing cancer or something. Or creating a new dessert with such a flavor even the gods can't comprehend.

[REVISION] It turns out it's all a sock monster. The socks, ignorant like the inferior beings they are, believed that escape would result in running freely, covering schlongs, and living the proverbial life. It turns out each postal zip code has a sock monster and he eats them. What a dick.

Award Nominated Screen Writer?

So it turns out I got nominated for a Cecil (the Chapman equivalent of an Oscar) for writing a sketch for the variety show, Nightcap. The sketch was subtly titled, "My Wife Had Sex with a Superhero" and it's about a wife cheating on her husband with her husband's favorite superhero, Insanely Awesome Man. And the twist, you ask? The husband is actually the arch nemesis, the Dastardly Devastator! Insanely Awesome Man then must use Unobtainium to counteract the poison he was given so that he can subdue the Dastardly Devastator with his super insanely awesome power to freeze people so he can freeze his nemesis and have sex with his wife one more time while he's frozen watching. The sketch ends with the line, "INSANELY AWESOME BONER... ASSEMBLE!"

This 8 page script got me nominated for an award. I love film school.

What's on My Mind vol. 1

I've realized that when Facebook asks me what's on my mind, I make a status about it. I also realized that I have dry spells of things on my mind and sometimes I have hellacious influxes. Today is one of those super productive thought days; one in which if I posted a status for each thought on my mind, I feel like it would make me appear like a prick. So, here's what's on my mind:

- Assuming makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me." But infatuation can't be spelled without "u in fat"

- If Chuck Norris were a hipster, he'd be way too cool for all the jokes about him, but not his jolly lumberjack outfit

- I love Taylor Hawkins (drummer from Foo Fighters), but his new band is so douchey for two reasons. 1) He is the drummer and the lead singer and 2) the band is called "Taylor Hawkins and the Coattail Riders," basically saying a hearty little fuck you to his band members

- If I work at a few restaurants over the summer, would it be possible to wait on a person for each meal?

- Although Taylor Hawkins' band is pretty douchey, they sound really good so far!

- My car seems like the epitome of a transformer in disguise

- I just had a heartache flashback from eating my first KFC Double Down yesterday (Two pieces of fried chicken act as bread for a bacon and cheese sandwich)

- It is a 1 : 8,192 chance to run into a Pokémon that is colored differently than the normal color, and that seems odd compared to people naturally being so radically different from one another

- Hell Yeah Picture Lock!

The Beatles Are the Meaning of Life

And to prove it, I'm going to to my best to come up with an enlightening passage made completely of Beatles song titles. Enjoy Nirvana. (Not the band.)

HM: Her Majesty

NM: Nowhere Man/Helter Skelter

LR: Lovely Rita

In my life, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band can't buy me love. Yesterday, I've just seen a face across the universe, and I love her.

HM: "You've got to hide your love away, being for the benefit of Mr. Kite! because you never give me your money."

NM: "Hello goodbye, Her Majesty."

HM: "Nowhere man, do you want to know a secret? Think for yourself, run for your life"

NM: "You can't do that. Tell me why if I fell I will carry that weight?"

HM: "If I needed someone, for no one, I me mine."

NM: "I need you. Help!"

HM: "Wait, Helter Skelter. Get back... back in the U.S.S.R."

NM: "I should have known better. I'll be back."

HM: "Don't let me down."

I've got a feeling, there's a place... the long and winding road. With a little help from my friends, getting better. Within you, without you, she's leaving home.

NM: "Girl, you won't see me, here, there and everywhere. Baby it's you, love me do... it's only love. I want to tell you, from me to you, eight days a week... I want to hold your hand."

LR: "All you need is love," she said she said.

She came in through the bathroom window. I saw her standing there. Come together, two of us.

NM: "Any time at all, I'm happy just to dance with you, lovely Rita."

LR: "You like me too much. Tell me what you see."

NM: "Something tomorrow never knows."

LR: "Please please me."

NM: "We can work it out, a hard day's night, a day in the life."

LR: "Love you to. Ask me why?"

NM: "Things we say today?"

LR: "She loves you..."

NM: "Why don't we do it in the road?"

LR: "I'm so tired. I want you... she's so heavy, golden slumbers."

NM: "Good night."

LR: "P.S.... I love you."

The End.

College Superpower #1

Delaware - adj. - being aware of a Del Taco in the near vicinity

Band Names

Seeing a group of friends recently forming a band, it made me realize that it is quite difficult to come up with good band names that are easy to remember, convey the theme/tone of the band, and aren't offensive. My friends have been called so many names thus far as "Archie and the Bloodclots," "The Tumbleweeds," "Black Pine," "Hollywood and His Boys," "The Braggarts," and claim to believe they have come up with the permanent name, "Annie Was a Virgin." They are still skeptical that this band name will remain, but it got me thinking, how do you think of a band name? It also got me thinking, how do you not think of a band name? It also got me thinking, why are the band names I came up with so terrible. Here is a list of absolutely appauling band names I've come up with. Enjoy.

- The Taliband
- K.K.OK!
- Calculust
- Cunt Crushers of Fucktation (debatable)
- Knee Grows and the Freedom Brigade
- Chink in the Chain
- The Bandwagon
- More Men
- The Key of Not C
- The Taroh-ists
- Those Guys ("Who's that song by? Those Guys.")
- Kalashniavodka
- You Can't Spell Tsunami Without Nam
- With Gusto
- Gabe Laks and the Silent Violence (a tribute)
- Tainted
- Siphon (I actually kind of like some of these)
- Venom Gland
- Mexichant
- Bratislobber
- The Shitty Musicians

A Script for a New Super Weight Loss Diet!

Hi, Billy Mays here, and boy do I have a weight loss solution for YOU! Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror, puddle of oil, or that special ladyfriend's eyes and thought, holy shit, I am one ugly motherfucker? Well, I haven't, but so many other people have!

If you can describe your amorphous appearance as chunky, bulgy, flabby, flappy, fluffy, obese, thick, or hippo, then you MUST try The Allergen Diet. This diet isn't like other bullshit diets that limit the food you can eat or only make you lose weight temporarily! The Allergen Diet sheds weight LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER and keeps THAT FUCKING SHIT OFF!

All you have to do on the Allergen Diet is find something you are near* deadly allergic to, embrace that allergen, and let the weight loss come to you... or leave you, if you know what I mean. But don't trust just me. Hear some of our testimonials, "... the diet was really... [great]..." Wow!

To join the Allergen Diet, just have an allergic reaction! It's just that simple. The Allergen Diet is sweeping the nation and is becoming the world's most popular diet (except for the Black Plague, of course). To order supplies to induce an allergic reaction in YOUR HOME, call 1-800-W-A-I-T-L-O-S. If you want to see results now and aren't too scared to face your fears, start the Allergen Diet TODAY!

Mother Says Turn It Down

If you haven't seen the trailer for the new horror/thriller movie, "The Stepfather," you are truly missing out on a phenomenal film trailer. Not only does the trailer contain ridiculously attractive chicks and TERROR, it contains possibly the single greatest line in the history of trailers.

This under appreciated gem of a teaser was brought to my attention by Eileen Daley, who shared such a visual masterpiece in hopes of endearing me to want to see said film. Upon watching the trailer, I thought to myself, "This is a very high production joke trailer." True to the horrific genre of the film, I soon learned that the movie was real. The line that made me knew it was my destiny to see the movie with her was a very special moment in the trailer.

The youngest son of the family is playing Playstation 3 innocently. The only crime he was guilty of was perhaps exercising the speakers of his television slightly too excessively. Maybe the boy was merely appreciating the audio design of a game he loved, but nonetheless, his mother called out from the kitchen (of course), "John, turn that down." Almost immediately, his malicious step father lunges at him, grabs and crushes his controller ($50 killed), and barks, "Mother said TURN IT DOWN!" Amidst the horror of experiencing such a scene, I giggled quite profusely at the intensity of controlling the decibels of a video game.

Nonetheless, Eileen won tickets to see the Stepfather at the Arclight theater in Los Angeles this Thursday at midnight. The most horrifying thing about this movie is that after it finishes, we have to drive back to Orange, wait until 4:45 and then drive back to L.A. for a 12 hour day of filming. Although the circumstances will contain fewer buzzsaws, scantily clad bimbas (female bimbo), and murderous stepfathers, I believe that my morning and day after will be much more terrifying than this movie. God help us all.

Contact Lenses and the Mystery of So Cal

I just wanted people to know who didn't know that I have shitty vision. When I say I have shitty vision, imagine a steaming pile of shit and then imagine that it looks like an extremely blurry brown thing. That is what I would see if there was indeed a hypothetical pile of shit lying in front of us. I have measured my nearsightedness to go as far as my hand is long. Meaning, without corrective substances (lenses) I can't see fucking anything.

With that context aside, people who wear contacts are very aware that you are supposed to take them out habitually each night, clean them, put them in cases, then use saline solution to rinse them and put them back in the next morning. (That's what she said.) When I am in Nor Cal, there is so much NATURE and GREENERY that I am always suffering horrific allergies and naturally must take out my contacts every day. When I am in So Cal, I NEVER need to take out my contacts. It is a mystery that I have yet to solve.

To put it into perspective, I arrived in So Cal around August 25. Today is October 6. I haven't taken out my contacts since I've been here. To answer your questions, no my eyes don't get irritated, yes it is probably terrible for my eyes and fuck, I have no idea why. No matter the reason, it cuts my cost of saline solution down significantly and it gives me a false sense of having good vision when I wake up in the morning.

My theory is that So Cal's smog has mutated my eyeball genetics to the point of making my eyes naturally moist enough to endure a night's sleeping and drying. Another theory is that the evil producers in Hollywood make nightly rounds to Orange County and magically lubricate my eyeballs with magical moistification beams. Nonetheless, some mystical force (perhaps caused by the ghost of Billy Mays and his eternal persuasion) has caused my allergies to evaporate, vaporize, disintegrate, etc. Despite all of these chaos theories, thank you So Cal for making me feel like I am not a near-blind crip-o.

Tip of the Day #3

You know you're girlfriend is a "keeper" when her name in its entirety is a pun. For example, by personal experience, *ahem* Eileen Daley = I lean daily.

The Room (2003) - A Review

For those of you who aren't fortunate enough to know about Tommy Wiseau's masterpiece film, "The Room," I highly recommend that every person sees said film at least once in their lifetime. A lifetime is a very variable amount of time, similar to a mote being a unit of liquid measurement. Nonetheless, this movie is so incredulous that it surpasses a theatrical movie and becomes a truly wonderful experience.

Cinematography:
Firstly, I have cinematography first because I'm a pretentious film student. To say the cinematography of this film was good is like saying that a Wendy's hamburger won't give you cancer. Todd Barron, the director of photography of this infamous film was actually booed by the audience when his name appeared in the opening credits. It is very seldom that the audience will have to yell out "focus" more than once in a movie. Even once seems a little excessive for a motion picture. Lastly, the phrase "Damn you, Todd Barron," was muttered in disgust many times during the film. I think that the composition of shots showed 3/5 of the people on average and was a fascinating use of mathematics in modern filmmaking. In addition, the long pans showed technical prowess of the camera operator.

Acting:
Most of the acting in the movie was acceptable, but it was the shining performance of the gun-wielding character "Chris-R" that truly lit up the silver screen. His brief performance has become a cult favorite. With so few words including "Where," "Fuck," "Denny," "Fucking," and "Money," Chris-R actor Dan Janjigian captured a passionate, ferocious, and misunderstood inner-city character who wants nothing more than for justice of his missing money to be administered. It is ignorant to say that the acting in the movie was poor, because it is impossible to compare to the acting genius of Janjigian.

Overall Experience:
Priceless. Well, not entirely. It cost $7 to get in and I assume the plastic spoons that people threw had to set them back a few dollars, not to mention the extra meal necessary for consumption due to being awake until 6 am. And the gas and parking expenses also increase the overall expense. But other than that, it was mocking the movie, throwing spoons, and laughing hysterically that made this a very worthwhile experience that anyone who loves or hates movies would thoroughly enjoy.

You Know You're a College Student When... #2

You know you're a college student when you're living room consists of 2 acoustic guitars, 1 electric bass, 1 electronic drum set, 2 acoustic drums, 3 couches, and a coffee table made out of two boxes and a piece of plastic.

You Know You're a College Student When... #1

You know you're a college student when you say you're going to make Ramen because you crave chicken.

Television: As Told by a Film Kid

I realized today in my brand spankin' new class "PRIME TIME: THE GAME OF TELEVISION," that the television industry is raw, half-baked, and very fickle. I was part of a simulation in which I was a producer trying to sell show ideas. In a group of 3, we sold three shows. All three were comedies and the first was a story about a traveling werewolf who accidentally becomes the sheriff of a small southern town called "Hairy Situation." The second show is an Apatow-style bromance comedy, about a guy who takes his friends on a road trip to find his long-lost half brothers and sisters when his dad says being a rock star could yield many siblings, called "Rock N' Road." The last idea sold was, a reality show about handicapped people being put on a building that is lit on fire and the person to escape first wins, called "Handi-CRAP!"

I also realized that what makes its way to television is only a tiny, tiny fraction of the crappy ideas that brew in the minds of TV executives and producers. Such terrible ideas that should never be made include "So You Think You Can Hijack an Airplane," "Project Immigrant RunAway," "Shaving the Cougar," etc. You get the idea. When you are so desperate to form ideas from nothing, you're bound to come up with the most unholy shit that it is truly disgusting.

Although some ideas are truly horrid, it's not saying that such intensive brainstorming doesn't yield decent ideas. I personally still like the ideas of "Oh My God," a comedy about a normal guy who is believed to be the second coming of Jesus, "Nature vs. Nurture," a comedy about giving animals drugs and alcohol with wacky results, and "Regen" a drama about a man who dies and comes back to life each episode with an entirely new perspective in his town as he learns more about himself and his society.

T.V. is fascinating, but it seems that nothing can stop the crap from being aired. Reality TV is easy. Yes, it is. It's a cheap slut with a vagina like an astro jump. People pitching ideas for TV need to focus more on quality than quantity. It's all greed that fuels the bad ideas that never go anywhere and cause brilliant shows like "MacGuyver Makeover" to never be aired. Or we can just say fuck TV, I'm a film major. That works too.

LukeWARMER!!!

In case you haven't been enlightened to the comedy genius that is Lukewarmer, let me say on behalf of the whole band (literally) "take a seat, have some hot cocoa with marshmallows, and prepare to laugh your ass completely off." Lukewarmer is a rock/rap/metal/folk comedy duo consisting of Chapman film students Zander DeNador and Greg Fonda (Gory, if Soto is reading this).

The epic and ever-unfolding tale of Lukewarmer began one night when going to a party. Zander (yes, I'm going to tell this in the third person) was told by one of his fellow compadres that the party they were attending was a B.Y.O.C. You see, Zander knew that B.Y.O.B. stood for Bring Your Own Booze (or the less common Bring Your Own Buddy at TGIFriday's) and assumed that the C must stand for Cake! Zander, of course, was sadly mistaken. The "C" longingly stood for "chaser," not even close to the glorious notion of a pastry. But something happened that night that would change the lives of many forever...

"B.Y.O.Cake!" Zander and Greg sang the whole way to the party. Non-stop, passionate, and full of love of comedy and music. "Cuz I got a big penis and I like to use it so much," Greg uttered. And that was the birth of Lukewarmer's first hit single, "B.Y.O.Cake!" The band has endured trying times and turbulance since their legendary forming, but has plans to create a lot of music this year. Such concepts include "Less Soft, More Core," a song about how badass unicorns are, "Bad Assass Hole," "Homewrecker," "The Third Wheel," and "That's So Uncooked."

Lukewarmer has also dabbled in the art of song mash-ups with their uncanny mash-up of the song "E-Pro" ~ Beck with itself. The project, entitled "E-Pro vs. E-Pro" is basically the same song with more nonsense, more guitar, more na-na's, and has been reviewed as "actually way better than the original," and others have boldly stated, "I don't think I can listen to the original version again." Look out world. There's a new comedy band. LukeWARMER!!!

100 Ways to Not Get Laid

Here are 100 things to do if you don't want to get laid:

1. quote Furbys
2. reminisce about middle school
3. punch a woman*
4. say a girl looks "fat, but pretty"
5. ride a Razor scooter
6. say "I just came" as soon as you meet a girl
7. use binoculars
8. say "That's what she said," in response to whatever she says
9. force a Nazi chick to watch "Schindler's List"
10. sniff a glue stick
11. say "no" if a girl asks if you want to have sex
12. be creative with pliers
13. dedicate a heavy metal song to a girl**
14. mention which animals turn you on most
15. cry
16. ask for a 3 way with an imaginary friend
17. admit to liking Jar Jar Binks
18. be a clown
19. writing a love poem template and filling in a girl's name
20. give a girl some change and say you're paying her in advance
21. mention the band Slipknot***, Hoobastank, or Creed
22. say you have a tiny penis
23. say you don't have a penis
24. make a USB vs. Firewire joke
25. speak Esperanto
26. be in her bed waiting and uninvited
27. play her the song "Shackler's Revenge" ~ Guns N' Roses
28. whip out a 20-sided die and say something based on the number you roll
29. fart a song****
30. say "I don't know what are bigger, you're ears or your tits"
31. claiming to have an "invisible-feeling" condom
32. act out Tim Burton movies during foreplay
33. be celibate
34. mention wanting to start a family on the first date
35. play Rock Band excessively
36. say you think a girl would look better in 1080p
37. give a body part as a gift (detached)
38. make a shrine of a girl*****
39. key your own car
40. even think about a golden shower
41. own fuzzy coat hangers
42. take a girl to San Francisco and set her up to get scared by the Bush Man
43. say "hella" in Southern California
44. challenge a girl to a peeing for distance contest
45. justify that your mom thinks you're handsome, cool, etc.
46. say that you relate to C-3PO more than any other Star Wars character
47. use a plastic bag as a form of persuasion
48. ask a girl "does this smell like chloroform to you?"******
49. say a girl looks a lot like your cousin
50. Spam
51. tell a girl you've had a better lay from your grandmother
52. claim to be a sex ninja. girls know there's obviously no such thing and that you're a liar
53. never blink
54. start a "privately-funded" wet t-shirt contest
55. own a squishy boob mousepad
56. stalk girls
57. have a tradition of going to Hooters
58. considering the thought of the possibility of getting a coinpurse piercing
59. dirty talk to a girl while speaking in baby talk
60. make a mixtape of every song you own with the word "death" in the title
61. use cassette tapes at all
62. beg to play strip Dungeons & Dragons
63. say "you had me at stop following me"
64. buy a girl a thong that has a green circle and says "Easy"
65. buy a girl an article of clothing that is too big
66. make a porn flip book (and flip through it in slow motion while narrating it)*****
67. have a female orgasm sound as your text or ring tone
68. get frisky with computer accessories
69.
70. read Playboy for the articles
71. suck really badly at guitar
72. wear the same shirt 5 days consecutively*******
73. make up a lame story
74. make a shrinky dink of her face
75. wear a fanny pack (and keep it stocked with dirt)
76. challenge a girl to a one-on-one game of Apples to Apples
77. be bulimic
78. eat used chapstick (and possibly contract an STD)
79. photoshop a girl's face onto the Disaster Movie poster
80. skinny dip at a child's birthday party
81. sneeze in a pitch two octaves above middle C
82. start bleeding out of random places*******
83. frolic through a random person's garden
84. perform an acoustic ballad version of any song by Linkin Park
85. believe that it's not butter
86. swear in Klingon
87. mispronounce the girl's first name********
88. have a skeleton in your closet... literally
89. read this entire list and seductively tell a girl you did
90. find out how many rubber bands you can wrap around your dick
91. scream "I piss excellence" whenever in a crowd of 10 or more people
92. get sprayed by a skunk*******
93. choke a bitch
94. take numerous pictures of her and don't upload them to facebook
95. shave your entire body except for some mutton chops
96. put pesticides on your dick
97. ask a girl awkward questions and hold up cue cards of how you want her to answer
98. cunt punt
99. be lazy********

*doesn't always fail
**sometimes works, but never the right kind of girl
***if she responds well to Slipknot, that's a bad thing
****only works if farting "Wonderwall" ~ Oasis
*****unless you're very artistically gifted
******probably lowers your chance if smelled subject isn't actually chloroform
*******doesn't work if she's really into you
********may not work if perceived as cute and/or clever

A Friendly Rant About: Trees

When reminiscing about the bubbling delight of an actress, Zooey Deschanel, I was informed that even her endearing charm couldn't save the terrible film, "The Happening." I told my friend two things. One is that "The Happening" is a happening that won't be happening in my life. Ever. The other is that that movie gives trees a bad name. It basically says that trees can fuck up humanity, but in the context of such a horrible film, it is hard to take the brute killing force of trees seriously.

So, my friends, I decided that trees are a large part of nature that go very under appreciated in today's society. Not only do trees provide oxygen (kind of important or whatever), shade, and occasionally coconuts, but they provide joy to the people who gaze upon them. They can take up entire forests, or they can be lone wolves on the side of a highway. Yes, I'm referring to you, Jerry Bruckheimer tree, which I saw on Highway 5. In some lands trees come to life and fight battles. Such lands would include Middle East. Earth* [Note to self: Does Middle Earth = Middle East... interesting.]

A group that I truly respect for their obvious knowledge and praise of trees is the rock band, Rush (aka the Holy Trinity). Rush wrote a song entitled "The Trees," which although is not very clever in being mysterious about the lyrical acumen, the title is definintely concise and to the point. The song is about the everlasting battle between the oaks and maples about who gets more sunlight and shennanigans that ensue.

I've always wondered how plants can be considered alive. I understand that they can photosynthesize the fuck out of the sun, but trees don't move, speak, jimp (scratch that. That's totally what sap is), patronize, pretend, or really do anything interesting. I have some acquaintances that would bore me more than a day "chillaxin'" with trees, but trees, although magnificent, monstrous, and illustrous, are actually kind of boring. Sorry, trees. I still think you're cool.

The Worst Mash-up Ever

I think it can officially be said that I created the worst mash-up video ever. I discovered that when mashing up songs and their videos, it is usually a better idea to mash up songs that sound similar or have a similar rhythm or at least sound similar. My favorite mash-ups, personally, are those which sound similar yet are about very different topics. Such examples include "Britney's Massive Hole," a surprisingly good combination of Muse's Supermassive Black Hole and some song by Britney Spears (I don't think that part really matters.) Another great example is the mash-up of Soulja Boy Tell 'em's "Crank Dat" and Devo's "Whip It."

I, of course, took the opposite route. I fell in love with the Lonely Islands' "I'm on a Boat" and I loved the fact that Muse filmed the music video for "Starlight" on a boat. For some reason, this notion to my brain that a mash-up video of the two songs would be a good idea. I called it "I'm on a Starlight Boat" quite cleverly. The song basically goes back and forth cussing about being on a boat, then singing falsetto about never wanting to let you go. It is appauling. The one good line is "I'll never let you go... ON A BOAT MUTHAFUCKA!" But nonetheless, if people have a hard time watching an entire mash-up video, you know you probably have a steaming pile of disgusting on your hands. Do yourself and everyone else a favor and don't publicly release such filth.

If you are curious enough to watch "I'm on a Starlight Boat," just ask and I'll show you my mash-upterpiece.

Tip of the Day #2

If God gives you lemons, say you're a prophet due to having interaction with God and create a religion that will make you millions. As for the lemons, I personally would squirt them in the eyes of treasonous, blasphemous non-believers until they get annoyed and join your religion. Or you could make lemonaide* if you enjoy such a tasty, crisp, and refreshing beverage.

*Lemonaide - n. - the beverage served at my family reunion in summer of '08

That's So Zander?

Maybe I'm overthinking this whole blog thing. Or maybe I'm just overthinking in general. The title of this blog is of course, "That's So Zander." I don't post everyday because I usually want to have some sort of epiphany about the world and the ironies of living on it before writing. But what I realized is that I am Zander and that whatever I say should be "so Zander." Why am I overthinking writing that no matter what I write will still be "totally Zander" or even perhaps "completely Zander." I am Zander, hear me guffaw. The obligatory deep and ponderous feelings I'm attempting to convey are those of living up to a legacy of myself. I don't really know what that legacy is, but I was referred to by someone I've never met as "Chapman Zander -- the guy with the super long hair." My hair preceeds me as does my name.

I think of famousness as a fraction. [The amount of people that know you] / [The amount of people you know]. I've noticed that due to parties, this number can be very shaky, due to intoxicants causing people to not remember others as well. The strange factor is that Zander on a scale from Mercury to Awesome is apparently memorable enough that black out victims somehow manage to remember me. I don't know if it's me, the hair, the name, or perhaps a modest combination of the three.

The point of the matter is that I have no idea what my point is. In all honesty, this blog really has no purpose. No meaning. It's just what's on my mind at the time and what of my bizarre and illustrious thoughts happen to make it into typed form. [Most of you wouldn't have known I was thinking about baseball bazookas, but now you do.] What I'm saying is that things don't always need a story, a plot, or even direction. It's what you like or dislike and what makes you happy. If this blog has made one person besides myself happy, I'll consider myself a success. If it didn't, don't worry, I really don't expect anyone to read this anyways. I am me. You are you. I am Zander. End of story.

Tip of the Day #1

If someone refers to a movie by the acronym "P.O.T.C." it is better to assume they are referring to "Pirates of the Caribbean" as opposed to "Passion of the Christ."

Ticket, Grip it, and Rip it

As many of you know, I just started working at a local movie theater. Overall, I really like the job. The people working there are really cool, everything has a schedule (meaning it's not like selling stuff that has random lulls), and I get to see an entirely different view of the film industry... Not that this job has much to do with being a film major. But either way, there are some entertaining things about working at the theater.

One of those is cleaning theaters. I say this because you never know when you'll find a hidden treasure. On my very first day working as an "usher," I found an unopened box of Whoppers in a seat. I can honestly say I now know why people strive to become archaeologists. Striking that amazing find, even if it's a box of nasty chocolate candies, is quite the adrenaline rush. I also like how peaceful and removed the cleaning of theaters is compared to the busy and constantly smiling nature of tearing tickets.

I feel like I should copyright the phrase "Ticket, grip it, and rip it," because it makes my job sounds badass. Overall, I tell people where to go to their theater and to enjoy the show. Most people seem to have difficulty locating their theater, so I feel useful. Some comments I hear from people are amusing. For example, I tell them "Enjoy the movie," and they respond, "You too!" I don't know what to say to that. Seriously. What do you say to that? I'll enjoy standing here?

Whatever the case, I enjoy getting paid and seeing people and genuinely making people smile and get excited for a movie. There have been countless times that people come up to me looking down and all I do is give them a little smile and enthusiasm, maybe a compliment, and I feel like I helped brighten their days. It's all in a day's work... for the movie guy.

More Companies Should Make Guitars

I think that Yahoo! and Google and many other companies should start making guitars. Today I was at a guitar store, played a beautiful Jackson guitar with EMG humbucker pickups that screamed like a promiscuous raccoon and while I was illuminated in the sound of rock, one of the guitarsketeers told me that Jackson had been bought by Fender. This made me think that more companies should get in on guitar making and have some clever ideas.

For example, Yahoo! was the first popular free web-based email service, so a Yahoo brand guitar would most likely be a guitar with telepathic networking abilities. There can either be a walkie-talkie built in to talk to other people, or you could send messages through sexy guitar riffs. Something told in Dm would be sad such as a breakup, an embarassing story about what you got your penis caught in, or what happened to the neighbor's pet "accidentally."

Google, being foremostly popular for their comprehensive seach engine could make a guitar with a screen that searches for the tabs of songs that you want to learn how to play. Now when I want to get laid while playing my Google SN (Super Nerd) guitar, I can search for the tab for Wonderwall by Oasis and cause bodily fluids to be exerted.

Garmin could create a guitar with a built-in GPS system that can tell you your exact location and which songs were written in your near vicinity. Strangely, your Garmin FuckTomTomocaster has discovered that "I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt" ~ Right Said Fred was actually written in your basement. I know it's kind of creepy, but I guess someone was too sexy for their shirt in your house. I'm not gonna name names but I think it was probably Steve.

Lastly, Microsoft would of course make a knockoff guitar that featured an attempted (and failed) smaller feature of the other companies built-in that would seldom work. For example, the messaging system needs to check for updates, the search engine only finds speeches from Bill Gates, and the GPS always tells you to go up. I don't know why up. It's hard to go straight up from most places if you don't have a ladder. Lastly, the Microsoft Squire guitar would need constant patches for a self-deteriorating wood that it's made from. The Microsoft Squire will also be the cheapest guitar, so beginners will buy it as a shitty practice guitar.

But of course the best guitar would be made by the Sharper Image. Cuz no shit. Best stuff is from the Sharper Image. It will have alien technology and nanomachines and it will cure cancer, swine flu, the bad economy, and my lack of love life with one strum of its superfibrosis coated steel strings. I really want to play Cowboys from Hell on that guitar. Epic.

I'm Making Up a Poem

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Make Some Noise for Darfur!

Let's cut the context.* Last night I was reminiscing about my high school years. The first time I had heard about Darfur was from a bunch of colorful stickers stuck all over the walls of the penitentiary. The stickers merely said, "Make Some Noise for Darfur." Not knowing at all that Darfur is a region in Africa and there is a terrible genocide occurring, I thought that Darfur was a heavy metal band. I've heard of making noise for the local sports team or for a performing musician, but never have I heard of making noise to help an oppressed region across the world. Although I take the genocide itself seriously, I have to question the mental acumen put into stickers that would much more appropriately be screamed by an enthusiastic announcer at a rock show.

Although many people are actively supporting the people in Darfur, there are many people who only claim to want to "save Darfur." The people I speak of are the people who see Darfur as being trendy to mourn and they are the people that make Darfur almost seem like a joke. I won't deny that I own and regularly wear a shirt that has the phrase "Save Darfur" inside the outline of a whale. I do this because it is pointing out the ignorance of my fellow 'murkans who don't know anything about Darfur yet treat it as if it personally affects their own life. In addition, many of these Darfur supporters can't locate Darfur on a map.

What the world really needs is not for noise to be made. Noise is vague enough that it can include beautiful music, begrudged moaning, voice-cracking whiny teenagers, and empty and meaningless screams. What Darfur really needs is dedicated, knowledgable supporters who know exactly what the conflict is, where it is occurring, and have a chance of helping the people who are suffering constantly. We do need to save Darfur, not just say we should. Actions speak louder than words.

*The context to me thinking about Darfur was the legendary comedy of the bright up-and-coming new comedian RAAAAAAAANDY!

Flan

For those of you who know about this most exquisite of desserts, you would be in luck. If you don't, get with it because this shit is delicious. When writing a rather excessive birthday greeting to a friend of mine, I came to realize that my subconscious mind was craving flan. It may be strange that I can't even remember what flan tastes like, but the thought of this squishy morsel was enough to electrify my hunger.

So what did I do to quench this food thirst? I wrote about how flan can be a metaphor for life. As with most rewarding things in life, it takes a generous combination of loving care and hard work to make something beautiful. For the most part it's good to at least somewhat follow a recipe, but in order for society to progress, we must deviate from the accepted ideals and experiment with new ingredients (except meat. That was the Dark Ages of flan and I wish that it could be forgotten. But obviously me telling you about savory flan won't do anyone any good in the forgetting of such a horrid occasion in history) to change the future.

Although flan is a Hispanic dish, no one claims that they dislike the beautiful gelatin-like thing because they don't speak Spanish. Flan, much like the word "no," is very universal in its spreading of joy and delight. Flan is most definitely the only way to create peace among all people in the world. That and bringing back dinosaurs. Believe me, dinosaurs re-existing would totally make me hug an Asian chick.

Lastly, flan is nothing (if taken literally, this is false) without the caramel sauce poured on top. This delightful topping is the one most varied ingredient among recipes of flan and it represents delectable additions or toppings that we can add to spice up our lives. Whatever we feel passionate about is what we should top ourselves with, much like flan. Whether it be guitars, Ryan Reynolds, teddy bears, or even flan, we must surround ourselves with what we love to be happy sons of bitches.

And you eat it and it is delicious and it is an orgazm* in one's mouth.

*Orgazm - n. - a sudden or unexpected orgasm; a spasm orgasm

P.S. The flan in this picture totally looks like Saturn!

Random Music Can Obviously Tell the Future

So after all of these silly "put your iTunes on random and answering questions about yourself," I decided to put a little spin on the game. I'm going to put my library on random and take the first line of the song's chorus (given it has one) and try to make a paragraph and see how accurate it is. It'll probably suck, but maybe it'll catch on and I'll make millions. [Note to self: add this to the get rich quick schemes.]

"Well, I'm waiting patiently and I'll wait for the sign. 'Cause I'm T.N.T., I'm dynamite (T.N.T.) and I'll win the fight. I see your face with every push it take and every bone I break, it's all for you. The comfort that you will find, as you remain hidden, the light betrays. Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Like a Boss. And then I looked up and I could see, all the ways that gravity turns for you and me. Come together, right now, over me. War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away. A kiss is not a contract, but it's very nice... it's very very nice. And a man in the back said everyone attack and it turned into a ballroom blitz. When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand. Twisting and changing, no lack of emotion, ripples in time, swift as the ocean. But you wanna be bad, just beat it, beat it, beat it, no one wants to be defeated. 'Cause they know who is righteous, what is bold, so I'm told. Do you love me now that I can dance? I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life."

iPhone's Auto-correct Deserves its Own Article

I'm going to start out and say that I love my iPhone like the brother I never had. I mean we do get in fights and have a sort of sibling rivalry for the love of the parents, but in general it's all good and clean-natured tom-foolery. Like a little brother, I treat my iPhone with a fragile and gentle touch because I'm afraid to break it and I haven't bought a warranty yet. With such fantastic features on the iPhone, despite the voice activation thinking I'm some kind of dirty foreigner, the one feature that tends to keep plaguing me is the auto-correct feature.

Now don't get me wrong, auto-correct is a handy feature on such a fickle digital keyboard, but I think the people at Apple should consider an experiment of getting a life before programming what the phone thinks you wanted to type. A phrase known by all text linguistic enthusiasts is the phrase "OMG" translated to "Oh my God" (or goodness if such "swearing" offends you). When I attempted to type said phrase to a friend in a text message, the auto-correct changed the phrase to say "IMF." I don't have any idea what IMF* means and nor did my confused friend. In a fit of confusion and self-doubt and loathing, my friend texted back "IMF...?" And that was the end of a long and strong friendship.

Another example of such treacherous spell checking was when I was trying to text a friend saying "Have fun skiing in Tahoe." To my dismay, the auto-correct on my phone translated this simple well-wishing to say "Have fun skiing in table." My other friend, confused at the remark thought that I was referring to a buffet and got offended, claiming I was calling her fat. In response, I said "IMF! I totally didn't mean to offend you." Luckily, the phone seems to be keen in the skill of adaptation and has redeemed itself for it's unforgivable follies. More on this story as it develops.

And Hawaii's fun.

*IMF is an acronym for the International Monetary Fund. Seriously, Apple, I would rather convey my feelings of astoundment than refer to the International Monetary Fund. (looked up 8/10/09)

SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN - The Undead Album Will Be the Most Epic Album of Music Ever Conceived

Mr. Hayden Dingman and myself have decided to embark upon a valiant and noble quest. We, together, will write the first concept album, telling the story about zombies. The idea was first derived from myself trying to think of a good title for a song about zombies. My original ideas were "How to Kill a Zombie," "SuberFabZombBomb," and "Only Some Zombies Are Dicks." Upon hearing "Only Some Zombies Are Dicks," Dingman was truly inspired. I also suggested that with so many song ideas contributed by friends, that the creation of an entire zombie album should occur. Hayden Dingman agreed to be the co-author of... "The Undead Album."

The album will be 13 songs long of a continuous story of a boy who loves a girl. Soon after, zombies invade their town and they hide in his house. After some time, the boy realizes that he must venture out to get supplies. On his daring quest, the boy becomes bitten and is transformed into a zombie. When he returns, a manly zombie killer has "saved" the girl and the boy after joining the hoard of zombies learns that he loves his girl more than anything and he needs to fight back to win her love. This will be the chart topping record for the ages. It's epicness will be the stuff of legend.

God Bless 'murka

I, my good people, am an American citizen. Although many of you have mistaken me for a 70's porn star Mexican pedophile (with a moustache), I am in all reality none of those things. Except for maybe someday I might work in porn. I'm not saying that I want it to be my job to work on a movie set and go by the name of Rocky Shadowcock, but I'm just willing to accept inevitability for a budding film kid. I was born in San Francisco, proudly, and I'm glad to be a person living in this fine nation.

'murka, you are a grand piece of land with your marigold waves of grain and mauve mountains majesty, but I think it's very ignorant for people to say "Happy Birthday" to you. Nothing against you, of course, 'murka, but you existed as a land far before July 4, 1776. You were the home of the Native Americans, which is a terrible name for them because they were labeled "natives" of their own country, but referred to by the name we gave it. Although the possibility does exist that July 4 is coincidentally your legitimate birthday, countries are also not birthed, but rather formed.

This then creates the question, how were the continents formed. This question leads into the endless debate about the creation of the world; Creationist theory versus the Big Bang Theory. My personal theory to create a trifecta of knowledge and awesomeness is the Magic Theory. Yes, the world and the universe was created with magic. I think that either way, we can agree that your formation date, 'murka, was one of vast importance and we only wish we could know the day in which to celebrate. The British colonists signing the Declaration of Independence was merely the equivalent of a right of passage such as a Baptism, Losing One's Virginity, or a Bar Mitzvah.

I hereby claim that since July 4th was a holiday based on signing an old document (over 200 years, no less), that we rename the holiday. Since the ideals of American patriotism and big bangs (courtesy of fireworks and other possible endeavors) embody the national holiday, it seems only fitting to rename this landmark day "Michael Bay Day." Happy 4th of July everyone!

A Loving Tribute to Jek Porkins

It was brought to my attention that there is a man who was killed long before his prime. His memory was lost amidst space battles, quirky aliens, and an endearingly incestual tale of love and freedom. I speak of course, of the brave X-Wing fighter pilot, Jek Porkins.

Porkins, although in the movie for only a mere 15 seconds is a beloved and valiant warrior whose spirit will live on through the legacy of Luke Skywalker. Without the undying (or rather the dying) courage of Porkins, Skywalker's mission to destroy the Death Star very well may have been foiled.

Porkins, being the obese man that he was, didn't care for the derrogatory nickname, but he claimed "It has a nice ring to it and it kinda stuck." Porkins's wife, Josefatty, claimed that Porkins was very concerned about this mission and told her that if he didn't return to give herself twice as much dinner for the both of them. Truly an honorable gesture.

It has been deduced that Porkins knew all along of his inability to eject from his X-Wing fighter. The button to eject was located in between fat rolls #4 and 5. With this button so completely covered by his fleshy self, Porkins tried a maneuver to avoid ejecting at his own embarrassment. To his utter surprise and horror, Porkins was shot at and inevitably destroyed.

Let it be known from now on that July 3 will be forever remembered as Jek Porkins Day. A day in which American soldiers both fat and skinny, on earth or in space are honored for their bravery, their patriotism, and their Americanism. Porkins was not just a man, but rather a symbol of 'murka as a whole. It is sad to mourn the untimely death of such a noble soldier, but it is certain that he flies X-Wings in Heaven knowing that he helped to temporarily destroy Luke's daddy's evil lair. God Bless 'murka

A Must-See Movie

To whoever hasn't seen the movie, The Shawshank Redemption, you absolutely must. I'm not just saying it because it's the #1 movie of all time on imdb.com. I'm saying it because the movie shows the power of friendship, it makes you feel free and alive, and it inspires hope in even the most desolate and grim of situations. In all seriousness, I can completely understand how this is named one of the greatest movies of all time. To be concise, if you haven't watched it, watch it. It is an experience. If you have watched it, watch it again. It made me smile as much as it did make me cry. If you've just watched it, embrace it. Feel free. Feel alive. And remember that no matter how bad things get, where there is a dream, there is hope.

Russian Roulette: The Review

Many of you know the game called "Roulette." It is a game commonly stationed at casinos in which you bet money on a certain number or color. The Roulette wheel spins and if your number or color is chosen, you win. If not, you lose. The game called "Russian Roulette" is very similar except with bullets and betting with your life. This is what is called a "Real Men's Game" and should be soon followed by the phrase "No Pussies Allowed." For this game, you load one bullet into a revolver which holds 6 bullets. There are 6 people. 5 people live, one person dies. In such bad economic times, it is difficult to say which of the two games is more dangerous for one's well-being.

Last night with a group of friends, we decided to play Russian Roulette. Perhaps not the smartest ideas among teenagers, but the thought occurred to us and we really wanted to play. Luckily, we played with an iPhone, so no one actually died, except for Michael who thought he died and passed out on the couch. Nonetheless, the game was intense. I believe it is fair to say that Nate officially died the fewest times, making him the winner? When you're playing with an iPhone and no actual death, it kind of makes the game pointless, but I would rather have a night of bizarre fun than a dead friend and being a witness to suicide.

In conclusion, I rate the iRevolver application with a solid 5/5. It is a fantastic simulation that makes you feel almost as cool as a guy about to blow his brains out. The only suggestions I have for the creators are that you need to choose which was the gun is facing. Personally, I'd be much more comfortable if I shot myself right-handed. Shooting left-handed just feels awkward and makes me feel fake and pathetic. I think another good addition would be for people who think they are going to die to have "Last Words" and it can either gain them style points if they go out with a badass catchphrase or lose style points if they say something like a tool and live. Overall, iRevolver for iPhone and iPod Touch is entertaining, celebant, and just what YOU need for some hardcore fun.

10 Things I Learned from Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

1. It is a choice to be an Autobot or a Decepticon, so I choose to be an Autobot.

2. There can never be too many slow motion boob jiggling shots in a movie, or in a single scene.

3. Megan Fox is really hot.

4. I'm pretty sure the bad guy became a bad guy because he was given the name "The Fallen." If I was a Prime given the name "The Fallen," I'd be pissed, like Mr. Pink in Resevoir Dogs.

5. "The Fallen" must have been created in So Cal because his name has a "The" in it. Fallen makes much more sense for a name.

6. Megan Fox is really hot.

7. If a really hot girl gives you a lapdance at a frat party, she's probably too good to be true.

8. Rail guns are the coolest things ever. If one shot can take out the biggest transformer ever, why isn't this used against: Osama Bin Laden, Kim Jong Ill, & Twitter?

9. Megan Fox is really hot.

10. Despite judgement and hatred towards Michael Bay, I enjoyed the movie for the popcorn action thriller that it was.

The Best Movie Ever Made

I think being a film kid, I can confidently say that I love movies. The quantity of movies I've seen may be somewhat slim, but I have seen enough to understand what makes a movie great and what movies I like. I realize that to make a living in the film industry, you have to be the best at what you do or the most creative. Since I have absolutely no idea what I want to do in film specifically yet, I decided to take the creative route.

I am going to write movies until I know what I want to do. I'm going to keep working on set and all, but writing is something you can do whenever you have time. I've decided I'm going to make the best movie the world's ever seen. And now a list of what is needed in the greatest movie of all time. *ahem*

- Attractive Characters (Thank you, Cheney)
- Explosive and Intellectual Action
- A Mindfuck Ending
- Rewatchability
- Badass Dialogue
- Plenty of Hilarious Humor
- At Least One Ridiculously Hot Chick

I'm off to work. Wish me luck

Father's Day Cards Are the Epitome of Evil

I was shopping for the perfect card for my wonderful dad for Father's Day yesterday only to find a gruesome reminder. I hate Father's Day cards. They are officially the worst cards of any holiday. I think all the people making cards for this Hallmark holiday decided to take their own holiday from intelligence, hiatus from creativity, if you will.

The cards I observed can be classified by having one of the following characteristics:
• Beer
• Obesity/Fatness
• Golf/Fishing
• Carpentry
• Insults

The card I was most tempted to buy for my dad had a picture of a fat guy holding a fish and on the inside it said, "I saw all those schmultzy cards, but I kept coming back to that one with the fat guy holding the big fish." I liked it because it didn't imply my father was fat, lazy, or an asshole. I liked it because it had nothing to do with Father's Day.

I even saw one card that said, "All those times you had reason to run away... thanks for not leaving, Dad." THAT'S NOT FUNNY. It's sick. I think that the terrorists that we need to neutralize are the idiots that "think" up Father's Day cards. They are the reasons that fathers all around the world can be aggressive, angry, and possibly cause domestic disturbances. If we had funny, fresh, and clever Father's Day cards, the world would no doubt be a better place. Forget cards... Happy Father's Day!

Invisible Ink Works with Computers!

Sorry to my faithful readers. The past couple days I experimented typing with invisible ink. I assume that none of you squeezed lemon juice onto your computers, hence the reason you weren't able to read them.

A lot of tgs have been going on in my mind in the past few days. One is that I've been told that I look like Dave Grohl, Ben Stiller, and Mark Hamill. When I uploaded my picture to myheritage.com, it was informed that I looked like Oprah, Gandhi, Susan Sarandon, Lil Wayne, and Johnny Depp. Though I'm not at all arguing about looking like Johnny Depp, I can't figure out why the service thinks that Oprah and Gandhi look like each other. Oprah : Gandhi as Susan Sarandon hin: Lil Wayne. Aka I don't get it.

Another thing is my new iPhone 3G S. I love the damn thing except for a couple of reasons. One is that it was demoted to an iPod Touch out of the box because it can't be activated to work as a phone. Not only is the little device too timid to call anyone, I must speak with a heavy accent, because the voice recognition can't understand a word I say. I said "Play songs by Testament." First it played a song by Led Zeppelin, then by MIKA, then it said calling wasn't available. I've concluded that my iPhone is a foreigner and therefore not patriotic and therefore possibly a terrorist. But I'm kidding of course!

My Current Get-Rich-Quick Schemes

1. Get a summer job.
However glamorous this option seems, the ultimate outcome seems more grim with each passing day. I would love nothing more to flip burgers at McDonald's or do whatever it is they do at the Container Store all day. The harsh truth is that being a film kid, I'm not qualified to work anywhere.

2. Make a blog
I don't know really how I thought this blog would make me money, but it was a false hope because this blog has wasted only minutes of my time and has yielded me a high slacker raise. Being a slacker, I have my own salary and I love to give myself outrageous bonuses. I gave myself a 300,000% bonus. Unfortunately, when you multiply anything by zero, it remains zero.

3. Selling stuff on Craigslist
This seems like a good idea until some dude forges PayPal emails, threatens you with fake emails from the FBI, and asks you to send stuff to Nigeria. I don't know much about Nigeria, but it sounds like they have a booming economy based on so many items being shipped there recently. Mabye we should just move to Nigeria until this economic crisis ends. I'm sure it's like heaven with taquitos and flip flops there.

4. Make an iPhone application
I realized when coming up with this ingenious idea that I have no programming knowledge and therefore would have no idea how to make an iPhone app. I've had good ideas though. My ideas include "Gaydar," which is a picture application. You upload a picture of someone and the application tells you if the person is gay. Another one is "Gay Genie," which is an application in which you upload a picture, rub the iPhone, and Gay Genie makes the picture FABULOUS! My last idea is to make an action game called "Prop 8: The Game," in which homosexual heroes kick the asses of a bunch of politicians.

5. Hope I make it into the film industry
That's kind of the point of college. Wish me luck.

A Moment to Ponder - Ripped off from the FonzBlog

I'm going to begin by saying that I did not have this epiphany, but rather Greg Fonda did. I remember that Greg said he was going to make a blog a long time ago and I guess I had just forgotten about it. I was curious what he was writing. The only writing of his I've seen is his final project for screenwriting... ZomB ReTak, and it's very true that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they write.

For one thing, he was busy in film school which I felt I seldom ever was. He only had a few entries that spanned several months and he didn't seem to feel neutral whenever writing in his blog. For the most part, he was really excited about film and being on set, there was one that seemed like he was upset about something in Colorado, and lastly there was one about people and simultaneous events occurring. He said when he viewed the Global Citizens Plaza that he was envious of the people involved. He also said that he realized that he wasn't the only one not included. But rather, he was doing something he loved and that people everywhere were doing things they loved at that time.

I, personally, was one of the flag raisers of the Global Citizens Plaza opening. It was mostly a joke for me, considering I was a white guy raising the Chinese flag. I wasn't there for the global acumen that our school was celebrating. Despite the innumerable tycoons and showy nature of the opening, the school created something beautiful.

It's not the opening of the plaza that I'll remember the fountain by. I'll remember the first time I walked past it thinking, "you know, this thing looks awesome." I'll remember dancing in the fountain at Ball Ball. It's not about the ceremony or the official moment something was unveiled. It's about the memories you create there because those are the ones that matter to you and the ones that will stay with you for the rest of your life.

*WARNING* The preceeding was not humorous in nature, but rather was a more mature reflection on emotions and feelings. Sorry if I have offended you.

Flight 94: The Next One

Last night I had a dream that I was at an airport. I decided that I didn't want to have a Tom Hanks "The Terminal" kind of experience, so I managed to accidentally get onto a plane with a bunch of friends. On the plane, the captain told us "This is gonna be the most metal flight ever. Fasten your seat belts... optional!" So of course, I elected to be metal and didn't fasten my seatbelt. Next thing I know, we're about to take off, but the plane keeps just cruising. Eventually we got to Highway 5 (not THE 5, thank you So Cal) and we were going 55 mph, which seemed odd for a plane.

I don't know why we were driving on Highway 5 in a plane, nor why we continued for a few hours, but eventually a tree was protruding over the highway and the left plane wing clipped it and then the left engine exploded and we... crashed...? I guess not a typical plane crash. I had a minor cut on my thumb. That was it. Then I got off the plane and realized I could tell people, "I was in a plane crash, but I'm fine." Thank you for your attention.

Lego Sexxx

I was just thinking about Legos. I loved them as a kid and one of my most joyful days at Chapman was when some friends and I discovered a huge box full of Legos! I spent hours making weird buildings/space shuttles things. I'm very bad at Lego. I don't know quite how that's possible, but I am bad at it. Amidst playing with these Legos I thought that it can't be too much longer until they come out with Lego: Sexxx Edition. Lately, all children's toys seem to be made for the sole purpose of shattering innocence, so why not? The thing about Lego sex is that it would be so opposite of regular sex. With Lego Sexxx, you could insert the penis into the vagina no problem. The only difference is that Legos are FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE to pull apart. If they're the same shape and everything, then you can never get them apart. Which leads us to the conclusion that a Lego penis and pussy must be two different shapes so they don't become Siamese lovers attached at the junk. If I made Lego Sexxx, I'd keep it classy. Burlesque House. Just keep a small room for "de-piecing" if you catch my plastic drift. God, I miss Legos.

Foo Fighters Define my Life

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people (or not) and include me. Try not to repeat a song title. It's harder than you think.

Pick Your Artist: Foo Fighters

Are you male or female: Danny Says

Describe yourself: The Pretender

How do you feel about yourself: Monkey Wrench

Describe your current boy/girl situation: Everlong

Describe where you currently live: Home

If you could go anywhere you wanted to go: Long Road to Ruin

Your favorite form of transportation: Overdrive

Your best friend(s) is(are): My Hero

Your favorite color is: The Colour and the Shape

Favorite time of day: Times Like These

If your life were a TV show, what would it be called: Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup is Running)

What is life to you: Come Alive

What is the best advice you have to give: But, Honestly

If you could change your name, what would it be: X-Static

Thought for the Day: Stranger Things Have Happened

How I would like to die: Learn to Fly

My soul's present condition: Best of You

New Outbreak Pandemic: Texingytis

It has been confirmed that a spelling error occurred tonight around 12:30 am by one Ms. Julia Dunlop. Succeeding this grammatical faux-paux were many more spelling errors. Sometimes her corrections of spelling errors were even errors themselves. Her infection has been classified as a "Swine Flu Calibur" illness that is soon to infect the entire human race. If we elect not to fight the virus, we all will soon be terrible spellers.

The only part of the population seemingly immune to this breakout is the Church of the Latter Day Texters. This cult was created by the prophet Alfred the Terrible (also known as AT&T). Some of the members had the following statements to say about Texingytis: "lyk zomg i saw tht n i dyd." "wut dey tlkn bout." It is clear that we all will inevitably have to succumb to omitting vowels from our vocabulary. Thr s nthng w cn d t stp thm!!!

Races Classified by Shapes

I think that the whole races being colors thing is getting really old. I mean to have to say I have a black friend or that I'm a white guy? I mean, I could go along with these shenanigans if at least the rainbow was fulfilled. In all honesty, how bleak are the colors we picked? White, black, brown, yellow, and red. Red's a nice little flavor in the mix, but otherwise we make up a pretty shitty palatte. I think that we have two options. We either be racist against new people and introduce orange, green, blue, and purple people (eaters perhaps...?). Or, we could be racist by shape.

I personally think that would be a more intelligent way to claim superiority and judge others. I think the [previously known as white race] should be a rhombus. We are awkward, we are squares, yet somehow technically a perfect "all sides the same size" shape. How about Africans are triangles, Asians are circles, Latinos are pentagons, Indians are septagons, Egyptians are pyramids, and Native Americans are whatever shape they want. That sentence took so long to write because even though the shapes are completely arbitrary, I still felt completely racist calling an African an octagon. An octagon is no more threatening than a triangle. Or we could all be feminists and think that men are amorphous blobs... whatever works.

A Family of Prostitutes

I wonder has there ever been an unknowing family of prostitutes? Has there ever been a Mr. & Mr.s Smith story, but fucking instead of killing? It actually seems probably that the other spouse wouldn't know if their significant other was a prostitute... or hopefully they didn't marry into "money." But nonetheless, if they had a kid, would they charge one another for the sex? In this family, the woman would definitely make more income than the man, but I think arguably neither would wear the pants in the relationship.

When the kid is born, he'd be lucky that the talk of "what does mommy and daddy do for a living" and "where do babies come from" is coincidentally the same talk. What's the story of the birds and the bees? "Well, sweetie, your father is full of honey and then... he fucked my brains out with his stinger... I'm a bird I guess... I'm delicate... and they got married before having a baby." It would also be awkward if the dad wanted the son to partake in his line of work with a company van reading "Lovincock & Son." It's also a lot of pressure to be good at sex if both of your parents do it professionally. Awkward Catapault!

Did We Solve Global Warming?

I made the realization today that sadly the phrase "bad economy" is a very accurate answer to a lot of questions. "If you give a penny for your thoughts, why is it your two cents?" "Why are there no new video games for summer?" "Why won't girls sleep with me?" "What is rhynoplasty?" You get the idea. We all get the idea. I also realized that what I'm doing for my summer can also be summed up by the sad phrase "bad economy." I realized that this economy may be dire in it's monetary pitfall, but it seems to have miraculously cured several of the world's problems.

One of those problems solved by the bad economy was Swine Flu. Swine Flu was hyped up to be similar to the Plague or whatever shit they have in those godawful Resident Evil movies. Basically, think zombies, death, ew, etc. But as soon as the economy got worse... where the fuck did Swine Flu go?! I personally think that Swine Flu caught Swine Flu and died. End of story. But then I had to wonder what happened to Global Warming.

*ahem* Excuse me. "Global Climate Change." Since this economy took a shotgun and Cobain'd itself, I have not heard one person mention Global Warming. I think it's perhaps that we have all become so cool. Maybe it's that the girls are no longer as hot. No matter what the real solution is, in spite of unemployment and hardship, this economy somehow battled a deadly pandemic and managed save our earth from global boiling. I for one say, thanks bad economy, you sure saved our asses. The economy is apparently a person and he is a douche.

My Senior Thesis About the Pyschological Structure of the Teenage Mind

Yo Spring Break has been wicked crazy awesome. My buddies and I took a little trip down to Cancun and I gotta say, "Hell yeah, fuckin' party!" And there was alcohol everywhere and people were smokin weed and shit and I was at the beach the whole time. I was so schwasty the whole time I swear to God this whole place was so legit. I'm still a drunk but it's totally dank cuz school doesn't start til summer. Ya feel me?

We played century pong. It was 100 cups on each side with beer and shots. It's like a mystery cup, you never know what you're gonna get. I think most of my cups had Absinthe! Yeah boobies! So many boobies and bikinis and girls and they're naked and I don't even have to imagine. Most people were speaking some weird thing. I didn't understand because they were not English people and junk. I got kidnapped and brutally raped.

And some dude brought a keg! I think his name was Kerv or something starting with a L. But you know it's one of those names that sounds so badass 'cause the guy had a wicked beard that could kick your ass. But the chicks were way hot. And they wanted to do me. They TOLD ME SO. And I had sex with so many not alligators because they were wearing tube tops or nothing at all.

Then aliens came and abducted most of us. Party foul! I don't remember it though. I went swimming and there were crabs and fish and shit. They were swimming too. It's like we were making this awesome connection like kindred spirits. I love animals. I love babes more though. So hot.

In conclusion, I had the best Spring Break in the history of anything ever occurring. Anywhere. Period. I would like to apologize to Gina for the 9 month "food baby" I gave her. I would overall rate Cancun a 11/10 on an awesomeness scale for Spring Break location and partying and stuff. Also, Mr. Johnson is the best teacher who ever did live and I really hope he gives me a A for this project. That's my Senior Thesis. I hope you enjoyed it.

Those Things They Do

I just rewatched the movie "That Thing You Do!" because it was on TV and I recognized the Orange circle. And I like the movie and the song. Anyways I watched it, great fun. Then I re-learned the song on guitar. I made the epiphany while learning it that they never say what exactly she does. The Wonders are always so vauge when describing what she is doing. The most depth they get into is "doin' that thing you do." What is she doing? Is she raping people? Is she spontaneously combusting? Is she inventing a new subspecies of firebreathing rhinos? Is she curled up in a dark room drinking Fresca until death? What is it?

I came to realize that almost every song of that era is really vague, like the Beatles' "Love Me Do." "Love, love me do. You know I love you. I'll always be true. So please... Love Me Do." The obviously omitted lyric from the original recording was "You know I love you, despite that there's a huge dragon parading around the square and making a bloody mess out of the festivities. Also, the scissor people of Zeta Centauri are quite upset with the racket we're making. You'll tell us how you really feel about our music, saavy? I'll always be true." Those lyrics were rumored to have been taken out because they seemed too ominous for the idealistic time. All song have been compromised. Censorship is rampant and we must speak out before explexica

What Makes a Name?

So I know what you're thinking. What's so great about this Zander kid and why does he have a blog about himself that sounds awfully similar to--but is not in any way related to--the show "That's So Raven." What's so great about that Zander kid is that his name means that he is a truly prophetic god. I have been asked many times... "What's with the name?" To clarify for all, I used to be called by my slave name "Alex" due to my full named being Alexander Laszlo DeNador. In Hungarian, that would be crudely translated to Chandar Laszlo DeNador. With such an overabundance of the Alex race, I decided to take a more unique route and bear a name that has been reviewed as "Epic" "Sexy" "Oh, like in Buffy, right?" and so forth. You get the idea. The name is unique and awesome. And to clarify for some, Zander is in fact a valid nickname for Alexander. I hope when I tell people my name from now on that they don't aks "Zander's a real name?" You look like an idiot. Of course it's a name; It was in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

But of course, let's expedite ourselves past the whole "getting to know eachother" phase and get to the point. My name is awesome. Alexander from Alexander the Great is now translated as "The Saviour of Mankind." Laszlo is a Hungarian name meaning "Gift of God." If you have any language knowledge at all--besides 'murkan--you would know that "De" means "of." Lastly, Nador is a common Hungarian name, but doesn't have a direct translation. Since there is a Nador label beer, I decided to say it means "Beer." Therefore, I am "The Saviour of Mankind, Gift of God of Beer." And without further ado, welcome welcome to That's So Zander... a blog that will probably be read by one person in its existence. Though there is no future in mind... I see great things. Impossible things. Wonderful things. That's so Zander!