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Monday, July 26, 2004


Ranter's block.
Once the days during summer begin to blur together, and you lose track of the days and your regular sleep schedule, and you begin to wonder "How much longer do I have until school?" not to precisely calculate how many more days, hours, or maybe even minutes that you have left to spend enjoying summer, but how much longer until you get to go back to school.

In this strange gap between "Oh my God, Devil May Cry is so awesome" and "Yes, Half-Life is finally here," I am pretty damn bored. I have not done anything too desperate yet, but I'm certainly getting there. I'm designing shirts and listening to Launch Yahoo's Dance radio station, for God's sake.

Two days ago I was curious about DirtCheapSoftware.com, the website that I ordered Half-Life from, and I came across a site that lets people give reviews of the web stores they bought things off of. For the most part, Dirt Cheap Software's was positive, but there were a few people who never even got their products. Who knows how much of that could be contributed to simple theft, but the site doesn't let you find out where your product is. The site I bought the DDR soundtrack from emailed me on Thursday or Friday saying the thing was shipped, so I'm expecting it to be here today (I believe the place is in Glendale, only an hour or two away from here).

Nobody responds to customer service emails at DirtCheap. Bastards..

--

I watched Not Another Teen Movie on Comedy Central on Saturday, and I found it to be pretty hilarious. I love that kind of movie, where they shamelessly and blatantly satyrize a genre.

There were quite a few good running gags, including the innocent girl with Tourette's, the obese football-playing farmboy and his concussions, and the spitting/"Damn it!" football coatch, but the one that took the cake was the slow clapping guy.

I utterly despise movies that put in a scene where one guy stands up, starts clapping, a few more people stand up and clap, and pretty soon the whole room is applauding the little blind boy who came in last in the race. But I love it when movies make fun of the slow clap.

Guy: *starts a slow clap at the most inappropriate time*

Melissa Joan Hart: Whoa, whoa, you can't just do a slow clap at any time.

Guy: I can't?

Melissa Joan Hart: No, it has to be the right moment.

Guy: Well, how will I know?

Melissa Joan Hart: Oh, you'll know. You'll know.

Good stuff..

--

Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel like making a much darker myOtaku theme or something. I'm out.

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