One scene in Adaptation had a cigarette machine in the background. Distracted my attention from the dialogue some. Decent flick by the way. Some have cried foul confusion. I tend to understand confusing movies. Cause I'm nuts.

Glad to see Nick Cage is back to making films of quality and taking on challenging roles. Birdy, Raising Arizona, and Wild At Heart put him on track, I thought, to be special. Even roles in Peggy Sue Got Married and Moonstruck were fine, although I'm not particularily a fan of either of those movies. Leaving Las Vegas seemed to solidify him in list of actors I would always respect. Which of course garnered him critical acclaim and a shiny seat in Hollywood. Then the big budget action crap marched on in, as well as some sprinklings of trite romantic claptrap. I sort of enjoyed The Rock and Face/Off. But still, Nicky baby, stick to the good stuff. Trust me, the good stuff is easier on your liver, you know what I'm sayin?

No one knows what I'm sayin.

Why do people go to their high school reunion? What kind of information would you gather from that event that is so necessary for you to continue living? And why on this stinky orb would you want the experience televised? Was invaded by the commercial that promoted the new reality show chronicling the events around one class of 1992's reunion. Dorky dumb.

The only tug that might entice me back to the Midwest to see my former classmates, would be to try and fuck some of those chicks that didn't give me any play back in the day. Actually there is really only one I'd want to bend over, and she was in a grade below me. She might not even look boneable anymore anyway.

I would tell any teacher or principal there to eat dung. I would heckle and jeer during any superstition chantings. Twas a lutheran place of learning you see. I'd sit bare assed in the punch shouting "hail satan!". Fucking place actually cost money, charging a tuition for that brainwashing. Gets no juice from me.

They have sent me alumni letters begging for contributions to the organisation of lutheran schools in St.Louis. They stopped when I replied with a note telling them to sniff my pouch. Filling up my mailbox with junk. Back the fuck up cross tards.

She's fat now. He's bald now. She married a twit. His kids are ugly. Christ, they finally got out of jail. These are nuggets of knowledge about people I don't need crowding my memory banks. People looking for sympathy as they unfold the diseased life experience since I last saw them. Or even, the impressive business belching achievements. Yeah lovely Rolex, how many people did you have to piss on to get it?

Absolutely no need for validation either. I will admit I was affected by being shunned when I was a teen. I fought hard and desperately tried to hide the fact that I was not normal. That I wasn't low income. That I wasn't a freaky geek. Didn't have many friends. And the chicks didn't think I was cute. Soon after escaping high school I embraced my geek freak side. Began liking myself. I think I am a fairly dope individual now, full of potential that most of those tards used up in high school. No need for them to think so. Couldn't care less what their perceptions are. Fuck em.

Wastes of space don't become any more valuable when they grow up. People are reliable like that. Once a shit is set in motion, it will remain a shit in motion, until an outside force gets it caught in it's shoe. These people would be vinegars not wine.