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say: fawaz as complete as it gets
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Have fun with your friend
Written on: Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I was reading about Paranormal Activity awhile ago, and was pretty impressed with what I saw. So I shared: I read aloud that the film cost $15000 to produce but grossed like $100000000. That's a hundred million.Time: 10:50 PM But someone (I'm trying my best to be good and respectful here) had to remark: so all the idiots went to watch lah. Rule number one, don't talk about something you don't know about. Rule number two, always be nice. Rule number three, don't talk so much about others if all you can say is what people have been telling you. Bottom line, nobody fucks with me. Ok back to the movie, I'm done being pissed. I'm all for happiness, see. Truth be told, Syafiq Zul and myself were laughing most of the time, and passing, uh, comments amongst ourselves. The movie was scary, especially the last half hour of it. I think a lot of people (like some Singaporeans, the rating on GV is 3/5 wtf) can't really appreciate it cos of a lack of brains, put simply. Things work when the content delivered binds its tender threads with the streams of an audience member's thoughts. Then he understands everything, becomes a part of the movie, and allows it to grow in his noggin. THEN he can feel what's supposed to be felt, and truly enjoy the movie. Not just fuckin sit down and expect everything to be fed to his fuckin face. Which is why I enjoyed the movie. It didn't spoonfeed me, it gave me something to think about, presented in a very believable form. While I may not have pissed my pants there, the ideas and scenes from the movie are stuck in my head, and will surely start to mutate and merge with the rest of my mind, only to sink below the surface. Then when the correct trigger is pulled, the whole thing materializes as a new fear, and I get half creeped out. Half only, cos I'm damn brave. And you must always 'control handsome'. While I might be able to sleep tonight, I'm sure I'll lay wide awake some night, imagining all sorts of shit. Bravo, I liked it, I like what its gonna do to me. Now I've got another headache, what to wear for grad night. I was seriously considering going nude or maybe just an underwear or something, but everyone seems to laugh at that idea. So funny meh? I'm quite sure some tribes somewhere find that kinda attire glamorous. Ahh neeehhhmind I'll go shopping (YAYY!) (HAHAHHAHAHA) soon. I need more scary films ah. And protein. On Friday Zul convinced me to take protein, and for the most part of the night I was damn looking forward to it. But then I thought about it again, and nahhh. Its not artificial or whatever, its all good and stuff, but I think. I think, too many people take it. Its almost like you see a buff guy (think me. Ceyy tak malu sak budak nih...) and assume he takes protein. Protein = semi instant buff. So that's not what I wanna be, cos I'm so speshul and all. Like, you know, the only 'truly unique' person in the world. Like, there's no one, NO ONE else like me, and I'm doing yall a favour by existing. Ok that's quite enough, I can feel angry stares already. But just picture this. Someday in the future, if lah, IF I get interviewed by some whatever, and if I'm truly buff then, then they'll be bound to ask me things like: What's your routine? Yada yada. Then comes the killa: Do you take suppplemen- NEIIINNNN!!!! NEVAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! Oh but I take vitamin C and B complex and some other Brand's thing every morning. [Insert super wide good-boy-plus-innocent smile] Then the next day, when the thing hits the press, people will choke and jump outta their socks and faint or something. BECAUSE. The headline, which is about something else totally unrelated to me, is super shocking. Just a coincidence that there's an interview with Fawaz (huh who?) somewhere in the back pages, strewn all over the place, inconsistently small font, ink smudges, half my face unprinted, maybe a big IGNORE THIS right across the affected pages. I think that's enough, I'm done procrastinating the inevitable. Good, good sleep. Hello, Ich versteh euch nicht Labels: hangar, komentatr, no ligaments, repotr |
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