I was all set to write a character piece from the perspective of a 12-year-old discovering an older relative’s “classic movies” and then use that to start doing a series of articles about a kid watching stuff like Blade, the Matrix, and Old School.
Pictured: Blade, Motherfuckers Trying to Ice Skate Up Hill.
It was funny, then it got less funny, because it made me feel super old. Well, that’s not entirely true. I spend most of my weekends drinking beer and watching cartoons, and my nights are spent coming up with outlandish scenarios for comedy sketches, action movies, and sci-fi stories, but the beginnings of that article did force me to acknowledge the unstoppable advancement of time.
Thanks to being an unusually oily teenager, my skin is thus far, holding off on the worry lines and crow’s feet, though everytime I look in a mirror, I swear my hairline is slowly sliding back.
Hold the line, you bastards.
Time marches on, and I’m forced to come to grips with the fact that pop culture is continuing to move on without my permission or attention. Read the rest of this entry