DANIEL VACCERELLI IS CHECKING OUT YOUR ASS

In Medical News

So, I’d been feeling really run down, more than normal, and I’d been drinking a bit less so it didn’t make sense. Naturally I assumed I had insomnia cancer or something, and finally caved and went to the doctor. After a brief inspection of all the working pieces and a few questions, it turns out I’ve been dehydrated for years.

Apparently, and I know this sounds crazy, but you’re supposed to drink water, just plain water, every day. Not just a steady diet of coffee, alcohol, and mexican sodas. Just straight up boring-ass water. 

…YEAH WELL SHUT UP MAN I ONLY DRINK WATER WHEN I’M HUNGOVER LEAVE ME ALONE 

The Helljesus Complex

  • Me: ...yeah, it was scattered all to Helljesus and back.
  • Ariel: ...Helljesus?
  • Ariel: He must be a dick.
  • Ariel: All of the martyrdom, none of the cool powers.
  • Me: Yeah, but he makes a mean reuben, and his parties are awesome.

Anonymous asked: Why do you think you have trouble with relationships?

Because I’m a god damn human being and life is difficult and you’re trapped in your own head all of the time and when you try to let yourself out of that trap at other people they’re like “whoa, buddy, I just decorated my cage, and you’re getting your shit all over mine” and then things are confusing and horrible and sometimes they’re nice and then suddenly you die.

Anonymous asked: What are your favorite Tarantino movies?

Number 1 is Django Unchained, which I simply enjoy more than all his other movies. 2 is True Romance, 3 is Jackie Brown, 4 is Kill Bill Part 2, and 5 is probably Reservoir Dogs. I enjoy how Tarantino is obsessed with making movies that he’d enjoy. When I was younger, it used to grate on me, but now I’m like, fuck it, let the goofy bastard make his arthouse grindhouse goofball movies.

I wish Roger Avery (one of his pals, also the guy who apparently wrote the best lines in Pulp Fiction) would make more movies, though. “The Rules Of Attraction” and “Killing Zoe” were great. 

Anonymous asked: Why do you hate Godard so much? This isn't the first time you've mentioned hating him.

I’m one of those crazy people who doesn’t like boring movies about nothing where nothing happens. I mean, at least Wim Wenders movies have a point. At least “Rubber” was so god damn weird it was enjoyable. At least “The Unbelievable Truth” was about something. Every time someone talks about how “visionary” Contempt was I want to smack them in the face and sit them down for some Fellini. Italian New Wave cinema is infinitely better than French New Wave, anyway. Structurally, stylistically and most importantly they’re not speaking surrender monkey barf-talk aka French. 

Probably Not A Real State

  • Me: Sounds dumb and superstitious.
  • Weiskopf: It's not superstitious!
  • Me: Whatever, you're from Hawaii. You probably believe mountains have fire demons.

Also, all of the Crazy 88 have improperly cut suit cuffs. Too much sleeve is exposed. Which I guess if you’re making cheap black suits for action sequences makes sense but it’s bugging me.

I’m watching Kill Bill Part I and the two things I’ve noticed are Uma Thurman has amazing, radiant eyes (they remind me of this certain tall gal I know), and holy shit like seven fucking songs play during the Crazy 88 fight scene.

ghasteur asked: how do you feel about molière?

That he should have written some noir.

The Joy Circuit

  • Me: There comes a point when you realize "social justice" is just "political correctness" with a slapdash paint job and a superiority complex.
  • Me: But the real problem comes when they try to legislate comedy.
  • Me: Comedy is the most transgressive of arts.
  • Me: You know what happens when the counterculture eradicates offensiveness and problematic attitudes from art?
  • Me: Art becomes the diametric opposite.
  • Me: Art becomes...Republican.
  • Me: Conservative shock comedy. Regressive modern art.
  • Me: It's like Jenny Holzer's worst nightmare.

Is it really that weird I hate Godard but like Truffaut? And let’s be honest, if we’re talking frogs, Jean-Pierre Melville buries them both. 

Help old flame move all her stuff out of her giant berkeley loft into a moving box (she’s going to go work for NPR, good on her), get all sweaty and overheated in the unbearable fucking east bay heat, have a fun ol’ time in the shower, get a sandwich and some gin, and god damn, it ain’t even five o’clock. The fuck am I supposed to do with the rest of my day? I work too damned early tomorrow to do much. I guess it’s time to catch up on my reading.