Subject: Thanks for sucking so hard
Yo, what up? Actually, scratch that, I don’t give a shit. You’re an asshole. But! I guess I wanted to thank you for that, bc without you being an asshole to all three of your writing-group ex’s, I wouldn’t have the best girlfriend in the entire world right now. Can you guess who it is? Can you? Hint: It’s the one that you were a total dickhead to.
Wait, no, that doesn’t narrow it down at all.
But, anyway, if you hadn’t treated her like shit then we wouldn’t have got to know each other so well, and we probably wouldn’t be together right now. I mean, I’d hope that the version of us in the alternate universe where you just broke up with her nicely like a real person we would still have got together eventually, because I am so fucking happy right now and I want all parallel universe version of me to be this happy.
Just to make it clear: You are a total cockwomble, and you have no right to claim any sort of ‘oh but it was ok that i behaved like a fucknugget bc something good came out of it’.
We are just very happy together, and it’s not even been 2 weeks but we are already so much better at this relationship shit than you ever were with either of us.
And so, in conclusion: Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.
Surprise! After nine years of being a depressed robot, I finally am having something close to normal human feelings again!
I do not like it. Make them go away.
Because I have a crush on someone! One of the really, really bad ones where it hurts in my chest all the time. And we’re both autistic! If she was alistic I would be pretty sure that she likes me, too, but I can’t be sure, because we don’t follow alistic patterns of behaviour!
Plus, y’know, I really really like her, and I’m so afraid that if I ask her out and she says no that it will screw that up, even though a great deal of my angst is over the actual NOT KNOWING, and if I got turned down and we could both continue as if nothing happened then I would be FINE. VERY QUICKLY. But people get weird about you having unreciprocated feelings for them, so ARGH. If I could NOT HAVE FEELINGS ANY MORE THAT WOULD BE GREAT. (Except there’s that part of my brain pointing out that I’m focusing on all the bad things and if everything went right just this once we could both be really happy! I DON’T THINK I WANT TO BE HAPPY IF BEING HAPPY HURTS THIS MUCH!!)
It’s cool. It’s cool. I’m just gonna go have a panic attack. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Gah.
Tags: Because sexuality lives to confuse me, feelings, orientation, sexual orientation, sexuality, too many feelings
I seriously considered beginning this with “dear sir”, or “dear angry man”, but frankly you don’t deserve that level of respect from me.
Let’s start with this: even if my car door had touched yours (and it didn’t), even if I had the recklessness to alow my car door to MARK yours in any way (which it couldn’t because it was two whole inches away) you do not have the right to speak to me that way. You would, in the second instance, have the right to be angry, but I will still demand to be treated with respect over an accident.
But that’s a moot point because my car door was nowhere near your “beautiful new paint” on your giant, red, penis car.
So you don’t get to storm over and shout at me that I should “LEARN TO BE MORE CAREFUL” and “LEARN SOME RESPECT”. At that point my car door DID touch yours, because you leaned over me, the lady on crutches, to grab my door and moved it so that it WAS touching your car.
So now you’ve done the thing that I didn’t do, that you are shouting at me for almost doing. Wow.
I’m kinda feel sorry for you. I mean, no man in his 50s with a working cock and the ability to pleasure his wife buys a red phallic monstrosity. You might as well stick a pair of teeny tiny balls on the back to replace the pair that you clearly do not have.
I feel kinda sorry for you because no man you gets that angry over a young person ALMOST MAYBE POSSIBLY IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE touching your useless oversized vehicle (that’s totally not compensating for anything at all) can have much else in his life. I’ve been the daughter of a man who was angry about everything, and guess what: I didn’t exactly like him. I bet your kids hate you, and only speak to you to ask for money.
Besides which, if you value things over people (as I explained, I have to open the door wide to GET OUT MY CRUTCHES) that much, you must have a really miserable life. The kind of life where you always did what you were “supposed” to do, and now your kids are grown, and you’re looking at retirement, and you’ve done nothing with your life.
Maybe I should feel sorry for you. Maybe I should be please that your actions have provoked me to be extra kind to every person I encounter for the rest of the day.
But, frankly, go fuck yourself with a rusty pole. I hope you get tetanus.
Ps your wife did not at all look like she was considering divorcing you over your dickhead behaviour. Good luck with that.
Pps you live in Brighton (don’t think I didn’t see your residents parking permit) you DO NOT NEED A GIANT SHINY PICKUP TRUCK. Or maybe you do, since it’s a big red warning to everyone who sees you in it that you’re an insecure ass hole.
Ppps I feel better now. Maybe just fuck yourself with a clean pole. Sideways.
Bloody hell, I hate insomnia.
Tweeting about it earlier reminded me of the stupidest thing anyone’s ever said to me re: the brain party that is not sleeping for days on end.
It was when I was working for the NHS, and on the worst sleep-deprivation-bender I’ve ever been on in my life. At this point it was four days and counting (on day six my boss walked into my office where I was sitting, unable to move, staring at the wall without blinking. She put me in the armchair in the staff room, went to the pharmacy, and then drugged me into sleeping in a cubicle. Apparently when I was staring at the wall my eyes were twitching so fast it looked like my eyeballs were vibrating. Insomnia is a potentially life-threatening medical condition, kids! Don’t let yourself get stressed out to the point that you don’t sleep for almost a week, okay?) and I ran into a nurse that I kind-of knew because it was 8am and I was standing at the coffee vending machine buying a cup, knocking it back like a delicious caffeinated shot, and buying another one. I drank four before she stopped me, and we chatted about why I was one step away from stealing a cannula and injecting coffee straight into my veins.
Which was when she said the stupidest thing anyone has ever said to me about insomnia:
“Oh, I wish I could get that, you must get so many things done with the extra time!”
I’m pretty sure I just stared at her until she left, because those are the words of someone who thinks that sleep deprivation is staying up all night partying. Or pulling an all-nighter to write an essay. Things that you might do several nights in a row, but you certainly wouldn’t expect yourself to be a functioning human the next day. Like, maybe for the first night I have the energy or brain power to do shit (mostly I read, or knit, or meditate, or do yoga or listen to audiobooks- you know, things that might HELP ME SLEEP), but by night two pretty much all I’m good for is staring at the ceiling and trying to set it on fire with the power of my hatred for the universe.
Obviously this is for the really bad bouts of insomnia, the ones where I literally do not sleep a single minute for more than two nights which is not a common form of insomnia, even for me. Mostly insomnia is “interrupted sleep” where you just don’t get more than a few hours spread over the whole night, usually for much longer than the more extreme version (you know, the one that can kill you). And you don’t get much free time to do shit with that version, you’re mostly wishing & hoping & thinking & praying about sleep.
Insomnia bad & unproductive.
Sleep good, but equally unproductive.
Pick sleep. #teamsleepTags: health, insomnia, sleep
(This started off as a comment on Fred’s Jurassic World review on The Movie Notebook… I now realise that it got totally out of hand so I am posting it here instead. Some of this will not makes sense unless you’ve read his review, so maybe do that first. Since he wrote an actual “review” and I just shouted at a computer screen for two entire pages… #sorrynotsorry)
That’s is, that’s your warning.
Before I go on to fucking shred the film, it should be stated that I enjoyed it enough for my first post-film comment to be: “My new life goal is to be a dinosaur fight choreographer.” And for a film that had as many goddamn problems as Jurassic World did that’s saying something.
1. The dialogue & character interactions felt like someone wrote a particularly unspecific algorithym for an action movie script plugged in the character names and relationships, and then added the words “dinos” “Raptors” etc in at strategic points. It was fucking terrible to the point that my sister who doesn’t often read for fun and doesn’t really like to think critically about media went on a rant about it. I cannot stress how badly written the humans in it were. Like, Claire is set up to be a highly capable executive-type character who thinks more about spreadsheets and stocks than other people (my kind of woman, let’s be fair), who is then thrown into a situation COMPLETLEY OUTSIDE any life experience she had probably ever had and proceeds to be thoroughly badass at THAT TOO. To the point that she literally saves the life of the “hero” and then comes up with and executes the plan that saves the day. Owen, on the other hand, is the emotional one: he connects with dangerous fucking animals through body language and tone and he cares about his raptors as much as he cares about other people. So it is thoroughly out of character for Claire to be the one crying over a dead dino- fuck that, it’s Owen who should be shedding a single manly tear over the death of creatures that he respects.
1a. The dinosaurs had better and more consistent characterisation and emotional arcs than any of the human characters. I am ALL HERE FOR THAT SHIT. The next one better be all dinos, all the time. Fuck those humans. DINOSAURS IN SPACE. Ahem.
1b. CLAIRE. I LOVE HER. She spends most of the film having her life choices invalidated (“When, not if” FUCK OFF), being belittled (“that’s why you and I never had a second date”) and pretty much all-around being shat on for being good at her goddamn job (too many to quote) to the point that after she SAVES THE “HERO”s life and he kisses her someone sitting behind me went “SHE DOESN’T DESERVE HIM” (fuck you too, sir). SHE’S THE ONE WHO FIGURED OUT HOW TO BEAT THE BIG BAD DINO, OKAY? SHE PUT HERSELF INFRONT OF A T-REX AND SAVED THE DAY. Owen was pretty much useless compared to her and- And, I just- I can’t- I love her, okay? You deserved better, Claire. Especially better shoes.
1c. The real romance in this film was Owen/Blue and no one is going to convince me otherwise. I bet he has a RAPTOR SQUAD 4 LYFE tattoo somewhere embarrassing.
2. REPRESENTATION MATTERS. This is one of those “this is the hill I choose to die on” things, because: representation matters, people getting to see themselves reflected in the media MATTERS (like, it has been scientifically proven that non-white and non-male children have better self-esteem and are less prone to depression when they see “people like them” represented). HOWEVER. If you are going to kill a full FIFTY PERCENT of your non-white male characters (of course I counted), and FOURTY PERCENT of your white female characters (going up to fifty percent if you discount the mom), it’s probably for the best that they don’t have any non-white female characters because I would fucking hate to see how they fare. And, yes, I am aware that many white male characters died but almost every other character was a white male so your percentage there would be like ten percent? Maybe? If I was willing to have a rage-induced embolism I’d watch it again and keep count, but i’m not so someone else can do that). Basically, if you are going to do that, just: don’t. If you can’t treat your PoC and women the same as you do your white men then frankly I would prefer that you just not include them at all. Be better, Hollywood, it’s fucking 2015 already. (We wouldn’t be having this problem if they had just gone with me “all dinos, all the time” idea… Call me, Hollywood!)
2a. Pterodactyls. Totally with you on that one. When you don’t even kill the UNAMBIGUOUSLY EVIL character that gratuitously, you gotta ask: dudes, why you hate women so fucking much? Jesus christ. Get some therapy. Etc, etc.
2ai. That entire problem and more could have been solved by not making the military dudes with the FUCKING GATLING GUN so FUCKING USELESS.
3. What kind of space-age mother fucking batteries were in those 20-year-old night vis goggles? I can get behind a kid who knows his way around an engine being able to revive a 20-year-old Jeep, because that is basically what they were made for, but fuck. I leave batteries in my game boy for six months and they fucking melt. No. THERE NEEDS TO BE SOME SORT OF LOGIC HERE. SUCH BAD WRITING. Someone needs to round up the writers of this and hit them with a rolled-up magazine until they learn to WRITE BETTER.
3a. Whoever thought that the line “We stick together. For survival” was a decent line, let alone a good way to END THE FUCKING FILM needs to be taken out to the back of the lot and shot. Not necessarily fatally, but definitely shot. That entire “reunion” scene should have been scrapped. End with the raptor running off after the t-rex, cut to the t-rex roaring over the abandoned park. You could maybe insert some news-type footage about the disaster in between, but seriously. (I am super mad about the terrible quality of the writing in this film. You may have noticed.)
4. I want a grown-ups dino petting zoo. I WANNA RIDE THE DINOSAUR. WHY DO THE KIDS GET TO HAVE ALL THE FUN, HUH?
5. Whoever decided that people should be able to control those gyro-ball thingies themselves was basically asking for something like that to happen. Never trust the general public with anything. Ask anyone who has ever worked retail. STEP IT UP, HOLLYWOOD. God.
6. “God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs.”
“Dinosaurs eat man, woman inherits the earth.”
If the next film isn’t DINOS IN SPACE (“Jurassic Universe”) then it should absolutely be a future in which women and dinosaurs are peacefully co-existing, led by Claire, Blue and the T-Rex. Chris Pratt can be just a sweaty and dirty as he was in this film, only shirtless. And he is the exhibit. Shut up and take my money, Hollywood.