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So I Got Drunk and Watched Step Up 3D

What follows is my stream of consciousness reaction to Step Up 3D. I edited nothing in terms of spelling and grammar and only added words when necessary for comprehension. For example, anytime the “him” or “them” wasn’t immediately clear, I put the character’s name in, otherwise, everything is untouched.

This post has been brought to you by Binge Drinking and S’mores.

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Top O’the Mornin’ to Yeh

Hi. I’m Irish.

Picked entirely because I'm actually wearing green.

I know what you’re thinking, “no, you’re not. You’re some kind of Mexican.”

Actually, I’m Chinese-Filipino-Italian-and, wait for it, -Irish.

“Loman,” is actually the Irish spelling. With “Lohman” being Scottish and “Lowman” being English. That might be vice-versa. Or not true at all and completely made up by my grandfather, but he’s 90 and fought in both theaters of operation during WWII, so we let him make up whatever he wants. He shot down 13 Zeros. What have you done with your life?

My name is actually pretty Irish, Matthew Loman, but the Asian and Italian heritage are the cultures that were impressed on me the most. My grandmother was first-generation Italian, the first of her family to be born here, in Chicago, and she still didn’t speak English until she was six and the city made her go to school. She was less than thrilled that at no point did her parents try to help her learn English and just shipped her off to first grade.

I was actually born in the Philippines and flew to America with my mom to be with my dad when I was only a couple of months old. Though thanks to Filipino hereditary laws I was born an American citizen. *drinks a Bud as eagles soar overheard*

The Lomans, however, were here for some time, so far back that no one remembers when they came over from Ireland. They can trace themselves back to their ranches and farms in Oklahoma and up into the Dakotas, but after that the Lomans’ origins are lost to time. They are simply Americans.

Ironically, despite my name, an affinity for beer from Ireland (the entire United Kingdom, actually), and my favorite soccer team being Celtic FC (which is actually in Scotland, but founded by Irish immigrants [second favorite being Arsenal]), I have very little connection to my Irish heritage.

Man. I need to visit there.

Except on St. Patrick’s day when I milk it for everything it’s worth.

And you can, too.
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Guys, I Can’t Stop Watching This

I found this at Warming Glow which is a fantastic TV blog that talks about Sons of Anarchy and Mad Men and sexy babies all day. It is awesome.

A new featured introduced a week ago was ‘Corgi Fridays,’ and kids, it is fantastic.

This Gif, however. This Gif, man.

I think it’s broken me. It’s a second and a half long, but don’t let that fool you, this little piece of art, and it is art, is dense.
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Louis C.K. is King of Twitter

Most celebrities use Twitter to rant or promote upcoming projects. Comedy Lord Louis C.K. does this sometimes, but he also uses it to get super drunk and tweet his stream of consciousness.

The following tweets inspired me during my work yesterday to become a better man [Posted from last to first, as this is how Twitter commands it]: Read the rest of this entry

People with Whom I Do Not Want to Get Drunk.

Writer’s Block is a bitch, ain’t it?

In celebration of my inability to write, we’re going right back to the well all the way from far flung last week.

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Drinking, and I mean the actual ceremony of drinking, calling friends, going out, grabbing a booth or table, setting up shop, and going to work, not sitting in your living room, imbibing alcohol, is a very precise thing.

There are a lot of very important factors to bring into play.

Where are you going? Is this a crawl? A meet and greet? A bullshit session?

Why are we drinking? Is it in celebration? Mourning? Catching up? Trying to meet someone?

Who’s coming? Like it or not, you don’t actually have one giant circle of friends, but, instead, travel amongst many different spheres. Old friends from home, friends you went to school with, people you know from work, from extra-curriculars, etc, they won’t all get along, so you have to make sure you have the proper mix for a good night out.

Last week we examined the dream team I’d want to bring out for a long weekend, now we look at the nightmare squad.

Who? Pete Dunham. Green Street Hooligans.

Wass all 'is 'en?

Green Street Hooligans is a lot like Fight Club, it’s about a boy who goes looking for how to become a man in a world that doesn’t have any use for them, but his search brings him to all the wrong places. They’re both gleeful adolescent fantasies until halfway through the third act when the movies ask “is this really what you want?”
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So, I Got Drunk and Watched Twilight

I can’t really form any coherent thoughts on the matter. What I sat through was atrocious. Not even on a story or acting level, but at the basic level of film-making competence. Things like establishing shots, using any take but the first one, lighting, and others are all just skipped in favor of staring contests between two vapid idiots.

I have so much bile, we’re going to jump the essay format and go to the noblest and laziest presentation style, the LIST.

I remember when I was sullen and felt ways about stuff.

What is Bella’s problem? Everyone likes her. Everyone. The kids of her high school, who apparently have never dared to even imagine meeting someone from a different state, fall all over themselves to be near her. Every guy she meets wants to date her. Despite this attention and devotion from the boys, every girl wants to be her best friend, ever. I don’t know if Stephanie Meyer’s ever actually interacted with other human beings, but A.) girls aren’t that forgiving, B.) no one in high school is ever warmly welcomed, and C.) if they are, they’re not sullen, miserable little shits who hate everyone and everything around them.  What is this well-liked, attractive, and intelligent girl’s fucking problem? Read the rest of this entry

Do. Not. F-ck. Me. On. This.

It appears that nearly everyone in my life is getting married/already married. It inspired me to write this.

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by Jeff Larson

Guys, tonight, some stuff’s going to happen.

Weird stuff.

No guff, you’re going to see some shit, and unless you’re a filthy fucking degenerate like Williams over there, it’s going to challenge you. It will shake your spiritual and your entire emotional development to the core.

Gentlemen, this is why we go to Vegas. To challenge ourselves, to grow spiritually, and to remind ourselves what a 19-year-old single mom’s vagina looks like.
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