Killing newfound flightless friends: Part 2

Right... I saw a few people pouring their heart, anger and soul into these blogs and although I'm no wizard in the articulation department, I felt this surge of expression coming out, but I have nowhere else to vomit, so I'll do it here!

If you're unsure of what this blog is about, it's just generally food for thought [of my day] so 1. ease back and get out your utensils, 2. don't fill up on bread and 3. tip your waiter with your own thoughts or sentiments.

Thanks

Winter Parmesan and Myself, Tortellini
Killing newfound flightless friends: Part 2

Round 2 and this time, I'm trying a new way of writing, believe it or not, it's hard for me to write in any other fashion than what I've been writing lately. Nonetheless, let's wrap this up because I have class tomorrow, though I'm not exactly thrilled to go meandering through the city and back.

Wait, first off, let me talk about the movie I watched last night, I'm going to watch it again, just to fully understand what I watched, however if I recall correctly, the movie I watched was absolutely terrible. Whoever suggested this film to me should reconsider a new culture spoon to be fed entertainment with.

I saw The Social Network today and I don't quite grasp how this movie was remotely enjoyed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lB95KLmpLR4

+ Show Spoiler +

Do not be fooled, this trailer is perhaps one of the best shining moments of this film. Not because its editing is supreme nor because of the interesting choice of music, setting a tone rather distinct. But because it actually manages to rope in the unfortunate who believed this movie was not overly-drawn out with purely little to really take note of.

The whole plot of the film is that this one socially-awkward boy ironically created a site that pandered to the mass of socially engaged and newly-independent peers of his Harvard and soon other universities while also balancing his own need to prosper and realize a goal that were contrary to the very school life he felt either bored, disinterested or unmotivated to do due to its rather tedious work or lack of creativity or structure (learning about shit he already knew).

And that's the film. Did I miss something? Potentially, I missed the semantics and rage by two twins who didn't have the ability to create what they had in mind and a friend who felt trumped by someone who had more experience and essentially did what the friend couldn't do, but strived to do.

The movie thought it was clever; narrating a story in bits and pieces as it alternated between the past and the two presents of both lawsuits by the twins and the friends. But overall, The huge ordeals of emotional pain from the friend and the frustration of the twins felt simple. Friend was unhappy because he no longer co-shared a large portion of the company that prospered while he was away and contributed nothing (besides its financial startup) and the twins were frustrated because their idea flourished beyond their grasp and by someone with the capabilities to do it.

Am I bias because I don't care or have a facebook? Or because I feel social networking sites play a more communicative role than a safety net, meaning that people use it to forward their social status rather than to retain and sustain their social status (by keeping up with what all of their friends or previous friends are doing). Maybe, but as the movie rolled towards its due credits, something extraordinary occurred, but they never finished it (Justin Timberlake gets caught with an underage girl and cocaine, but we never find out what happens after because they cop out and write the conclusion of everyone in text...).

Overall, was not satisfied by this film and if its subject didn't have such a prominent role in many people's lives, this film would be viewed and accepted as generic trash. Then again, that might be too callous for me to say

So yeah, avoid this film.

Onto what the rest of my day went. Let's see what I wrote:

Bird builds a nest near my window
I symbolize the bird to be what I formerly understood, that work lead to an apparent accomplishment.
I believe in God to believe that someone sympathizes with life's predicaments and moments you can't explain are his forms of understanding or giving you some relief, not a religious notion
Popsicles with two extra discs of flavor is delicious

Right, the day continued as unexpectedly as one could believe. Finished my popsicle and took another gander at what the bird was building before I heard scratching at my door. I live alone so typically anything that scratches at my door is not something of mine.

looks like someone dropped off their kitty for me to watch

Yes indeed. Looks like my sister had stopped by to drop off her cat at my place. I hate this cat and there is a backstory to it.

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A long time ago, back when this condo. was inhabited by sexually and socially active females, there lived a boy named Torte de Lini. Some call him Torte, others call him Tortellini or that pasta dude who's only part Italian. Pasty around the sides and enjoyed sloppy foods that were similar to the color of your own feces:

Tortellini lived a life of ease and comfortableness. He played games by day, porn at night and somewhere in-between, he indulged on his favourite snacks: Gushers, Cool Ranch Doritos and Black Cherry soda. Life was sweet and nothing could destroy this harmonic lifestyle that even Woody Allen would once hope for (at least in one of his movies, since he's consistently the same in almost all of them, the assumption above would fit in somewhere).

But there were always those taking advantage of those who have it simple and easy:

Her name was January and she preyed on the warm, hungry and weak-minded. January was known to be a loud, obnoxious and clothes were forewarned her need to completely destroy their fabric and be littered with cat hair. Not one piece of cloth was safe from the trampling and lounging of this cat.

Fed up with this, Torte de Lini applied heavy dough and pressure to grow a leg and gently and paradoxically kicked the cat whenever she would get in the way and have my clothes call the paramedics. Why resort to physical violence? Because unlike in Pokemon, this cat is immune to typically special effective moves like brooms, yelling and spray bottles. Alas, do not worry; the kicking never injure nor hurt the cat, it was more of lifting where the left would sweep under like in the Karate Kid and lift her off the clothes. Her body would bend and flex and eventually, her foot would detach themselves from my clothes/body/couche/television (don't ask)/stove/coat (we're talking vertical guys)/window shades/notebooks/blankets/doors/beds/washing machine/keyboard.

She's come to resent me and my wallet resents her (I had to buy new clothes sadly).

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As I was saying, my foot and this feline do not get along. Shy, he engages with a stick to test the waters:

Unphased, January begins to taunt playfulness. A devious ploy to attract susceptible victims and lines of finely ironed clothes? Perhaps, but one hopes she has matured, learned respect and view the world in a whole new outlook. One hopes that she has incorporated a new sense in her 5-6 senses that knows, realizes that what she is doing is not acceptable nor appreciated. My foot twitched, ready to lift her like a flopped pass on the Soccer field.

I approached the untamed beast. Stick in one hand, shivers in the other as I nervously stepped closer and closer to playful quadruped. She gave me a stunning gaze, squinted once and resumed back to her toy: an imitated mouse with small beans in it to irritate the ears and entice animals to puncture and kill it. Apparently these are what toys are composed of for animals: shrieking sounds and never-ending maraca beats.

Took another step and she sprinted, I tried to perform a slide on my wooden floor, but couldn't block the fleeing image of what I assumed was a cat, mad-dashing into my room! NO GET AWAY FROM THERE! MY CLOTHES! I foolishly left my closet door open. On my knees, I hear her internally chuckle as she took further steps in there. I took two stomps with my foot, hoping she'd be fooled that a large being was approaching. But instead she stopped, slowly and mechanically churned her head and tiptoed her way towards me.

I sat there, a bit unhappy and bothered as she titled her head in curiosity. Her eyes almost sympathetic and quietly walked closer.

I'm not quite sure what she communicated to my foot with her twitched whiskers and unsettling gaze.

But I think... all ended well. I'm not quite sure why, but a bond was formed that day. A small one, nothing but a seed, but if properly tended to and cared for, could bloom into a happy relationship of owner (or catsitter) to pet/animal/feline/literal homewrecker.

*Part 3 will come when I really learn to start actually finishing them when I say I would

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