I’ve been hearing the same seven seconds of DVD menu music from Kelly’s room all night, so this is what it must be like to be a really obsessive rap producer or a schizophrenic on the edge of total breakdown.
I have a lot of nights in this shadowy house born down the motherfucker street we live on,
listening to my little sister fuck some big ex-con his greasy fingers working like they did in her cunt, trying to slip into some new form of imprisonment she sounds like a brimming explosion and he leans too fast into her while mother’s cigarettes drip acid onto the couch
we live down motherfucker street, just up from the library and the liquor store, each full of information, cross street bad times for all involved, my mother has a face like razor wire and sad poetry shakespeare choked and left hacked to pieces in a dumpster she scowls and spits round cigarettes making beer out of loose change listening to my sister’s constant strangers
we live up motherfucker street, just down from an overpass and strip mall strip club and undeserving highwaymen looting visual inspections outside rusty maintenance, I’m trying to get out every day of my life saying hey motherfucker I’ve been on one street every day for my whole life, purgatory born fresh from the womb
hacked to pieces in wet paper my father comes home from the factory slapping mother with his neat apologies slouching sandwiches in his chair screaming sports names at the ceiling while sissy’s strangers shout the same team players black eyed and harmless my broken glass mother weaves dinner in the kitchen poisoning us all with her glances big brother little sister baby on the way, dad’s fists ever-present just like his accusations she’s saying this motherfucker street just ain’t what it used to be children just ain’t what it used to be
Two different friends announced they were having a kid, three announced engagements, one announced he was moving far out of the city and buying a house. Me, I’m drinking beer on a couch. The earth spins on. At least that’s what the scientists tell me. The spiders tell me a different story, but since when have you ever trusted spiders?
Two civilizations of Matt compete for Matt-ness across a spaciotemporal post-apocalyptic world in which there is only one name, and to be deemed the “Other Matt” is the designation of outcasts. One Matt, a lone scavenger armed with bread knives, and another Matt, a scruffy rifleman running low on bullets, are forced into similar lots when both lose their platoons to indiscriminate shelling. Will they survive with each other’s help or battle to the death over the stigma of Otherness? WHO KNOWS?!
Lack of Christopher Eccleston (though John Hurt was redeeming)
Actually Tennant was nowhere near as bad as I expected but fuck him for creating this vortexian juvenile fandom that’s almost as psychotic as people who make crossover gifs for Sherlock
THE WHOLE FUCKING PART ABOUT UNDOING THE ENTIRETY OF THE STORY ARC OF NEW WHO THUS INVALIDATING BASICALLY EVERY EPISODE THAT MENTIONED THE TIME WAR OR ANYTHING INVOLVING THE TRAGEDY THAT HAS DEFINED THE NEW DOCTORS
Billie Piper phoned it in, huh. So did Matt Smith, for his sins.
Needed more Peter Capaldi. That’s just me.
The plot! SUCH BULLSHIT. GAH.
Reasons the Day Of The Doctor was good —
JOHN HURT. JOHN HURT. JOHN HURT. JOHN HURT. JOHN HURT. JOHN HURT. JOHN…HURT!
Saw my SF doppelgänger today (reported to me by Claire, Danny, Will, Peter, Torie, and others over the years) and it was mad creepy. Wearing business casual, slouching on the other side of the platform at Church station. Christ, he looked a lot like me. Freaky.
The happy go lucky drunk neighbor who is always bringing home weirdly attractive girls despite the apparent off-color statements made just to piss off said attractive ladies? Punctuated with quips about your father’s whoring days? BRING IT.
Every other episode we try to assassinate you, and fail.
Why would you make fun of Morrissey?! I thought you were on the team, Fraction! He's so sad already and he's getting old and he's so gorgeous and I'd leave my wife for him even at this age and I lost my virginity to a Smiths song too and <melts into sobbing mess>
because he is terrible and getting my v-card punched to that terrible record was terrible
“I’d lived a detached and carefully controlled existence — all detailed planning, trying to stay safe, trying to reconstruct the events and the people who’d gone before — a sixteen-month life of dusty facts, static stories, and silent archeology. But today changed everything. The world around me had transformed into a hot liquid thing, alive and twisting with real events happening now and with unknowable possibility fingers stretching towards the future. For me, the perspective shift was huge; a change in the nature of time, a rush of things happening that couldn’t be slowed or re-examined or re-translated or pondered over at a later date because — because now I was part of the picture, I was involved.”—Steven Hall (The Raw Shark Texts)
Somewhere not too deep in my heart I’m looking forward to getting older so I can stop wearing overly sharp “hey girls fuck me because I’m super dapper” suits and start wearing “I don’t give a shit because I’m either a grouchy dad or too old to give a fuck” suits. YEAH IT’S A STUPID THING BUT THIS IS MY STUPID BLOG AND I HAVE A STUPID LIFE. IN YOUR FACE, SOCIAL CONTRACT! IN YOUR FAAAAAAAACCCEEEEE
There’s a DJ in this weird little Richmond cafe for some reason and he’s playing the silliest scratches of hip-hop classics and I kind of love it more than I love life and the blood in my veins and silly postmodern genre novels, at least in this moment, which is all moments, as I am human and my apparatus only experiences the present, no matter how I strive to perceive otherwise. In this, we see all truth and imperfections in the same cold light — we are as transient as our sensations. Also, “Ante Up” is still the shit.
And what a bizarre, glorious, highly offensive, volatile, geeky, quip-filled, violent, occasionally perverse, often awkward, insidious, humiliating, inebriated adventure it’s been knowing this wonderful girl.
“It isn’t just the past we remember, it’s the future too. Fifty per cent of memory is devoted not to what has already happened, but to what will happen next. Appointments, anniversaries, meetings, all the rolling engagements and plans, all the hopes and dreams and ambitions which make up any human life – we remember what we did and also what we will do. Only the knife edge of the present is ‘hard’ to any degree. Past and future are things of the mind, and a mind can be changed.”—"The Raw Shark Texts" by Steven Hall