Porocrom’s Crappaper

Today was a really sandy day. And I don’t mean sandy in the way you might think, I mean sandy as there was a lot of sand in the air. You couldn’t see the sun, and the entire sky was glowing yellow. All that sand comes from Africa, a strong wind blows, and whee, Crete gets all the damn Sahara sand (it’s true, look at this NASA image). So, I thought, like hell I’m going out there today, fuck that, but then a friend called at about 9 pm and told me if I wanted to go to the movies. I thought, sure, I don’t have anything better to do, and it’s a bit windy, so the sand and all the camels should have floated somewhere else by now, so I went.
We didn’t know what to watch, and the choices were Collateral, the movie with Nicole Kidman and her 10-year-old husband, and the one with Salma Hayek (HOT). We decided to watch Collateral, because it had the shortest title and I was too lazy to pronounce the other ones.
Needless to say, seeing Cruise and the word COLLATERAL in huge letters in the poster, we were expecting an action movie. The movie started out with a taxi driver (the only good taxi driver in LA, it seems) who drove Jada Pinkett Smith (HOT) to her work or whatever. After driving her and getting her phonenumber (smooth), Tom Cruise exits the building and talks to the cab man, who, engrossed in Jada’s card as he was, fails to notice him. Tom seeks another ride, but the dude snaps out of his Nirvana and calls out to Tom saying that he would drive him and that he was just being absent-minded.
As the two characters ride around town, (and with the help of the unparalelled directing of Michael Mann) their stories unravel in a slow yet pleasurable fashion. We discover that Max (the taxi driver) has dreams of starting his own limousine company and that Vincent is a successful yet lonely hired assassin, who is a hollow shell of a man, completely devoid of emotions. On this long night, however, the two characters are about to embark on a journey into the nocturnal LA and into their lives.
Vincent offers Max six hundred dollars to hire him for the night, and Max reluctantly agrees. Vincent goes to his first target’s room and kills him, dropping him on Max’s taxi. Max is shocked at this and attempts to flee, but Vincent holds him hostage and makes him drive him around to the other four targets. During this time, we get an in-depth view of the alienation and hatred in modern cities, as well as learn more about the characters. Vincent, having been raised in an institution and by a drunkard father, has a very cynical view of the world, while Max is the exact opposite (or is he?).
The action scenes in this movie were not your typical Hollywood scenes, with guns blazing left and right, and the plot was not filled with the usual stereotypes. Max (who was black) did not particularly know or like jazz, while Vincent (who was white) was a connoiseur. Vincent takes Max to a jazz club and buys him a drink, also killing the owner while they’re there.
The movie’s pace begins to pick up when they go to a nightclub to get the next target, but the police have been following them. This is the part where Vincent FUCKS EVERYONE’S SHIT UP! He goes into the club, twists the heads of a few policemen, shoots a few more (all of this in a realistic manner), and busts a cap right in the Chinese dude’s head. This part seriously kicks reprehensible amounts of ass. It’s like, awesome. His training is through the roof, he fucks everyone up, he kills like, a lot of clubbers and most of the cops, and saves Max’s life too.
Then there’s the other part where he has to go off that chick that Max met, and Max has to stop that, so he kicks a cop’s ass and runs to catch Vincent. They meet in the building, bullets flying all over the place, they shoot each other in the ass and Vincent gets one in the ear. They run off to a subway where Vincent hops onto the train, James Bond-style and kicks everyone’s ass on there too. The power in the train goes out and Max and Vincent just start to shoot each other right in the face man, but noone hits anything, stupid bastards. The power comes back on but they’re both out of ammo, so they sit to talk about it. Unfortunately, Vincent dies because Max has shot him.
Seriously, this movie was AWESOME. It kicked so much ass, I kicked two old people and a kid IN THE FACE right after we left (OK, it was just a poster of two old people and a kid, but still, I KICKED IT RIGHT IN THE FACE). It’s worth all 7 EUR and then some more for the popcorn and shit. It kicks so much ass, it’s crazy. Tom Cruise is the shit with the gray suit and gray hair and everything, and he TOTALLY FUCKS EVERYONE’S SHIT UP. Jada is always hot, and the taxi dude is nice too. If you’re a lame action-boy you probably shouldn’t watch it, because you won’t be able to get through all the talk (which promotes the characters nicely), so you better just go see Harry Potter or some shit like that instead. For everyone else, GO SEE THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW.
The best thing about the movie is that it’s realistic, not some shit where people are within two meters of each other and shoot uzis and bazookas and flames out of their asses and they don’t even hit anything. Vincent totally rocks, he has an accuracy ratio of 245.87%. He kills people without even using bullets, he is THAT GOOD.
Enough blabbering, this movie rocks. Go watch it.

Dear Hollywood,

I have recently filled my spare time by watching some of your movies. The quality if your product is unsurpassable, and I applaud you for that. However, I would like to raise a few concerns I had with the veracity of many of your films.

Issue #1: Girls at university

I was led to believe by many of your movies that the moment that a woman of the female gender stepped onto a college campus she was overcome with sexual desire and would have intercourse with anything moving. However, I was quite shocked to find that many women at my university do not want to have sex with me. Here is a sample conversation to illustrate my point:

Me: Hello
Girl: Hi
Me: Would you like to have some sex?
Girl: No thank you

As you can see, this exchange went contrary to your frequent portrayal of college girls in movies. I would ask that you either a) write a strongly-worded letter to women everywhere requesting that they fall in line or b) pay for my tuition and board at the University of Western Ontario so that I may meet some college girls who know how to behave.

Issue #2: Exams

Operating under the impression given to me in several films, I refused to study for any of my exams until the very last minute. I had been assured by many films (such as religious film Van Wilder) that, provided I had the requisite amount of pluckiness, I would succeed on all of my finals with flying colours. I had my blood tested and concluded that my pluck level was 30 mg/L, more than 3 times the national average. I also found out I was a pregnant 90 year-old zebra, but this is beside the point.

Much was my surprise when I got my exam results and I had failed nearly every single course. I felt that I had taken the necessary precautions (playing appropriately themed music, flashing back to humorous anecdotes, providing a montage of time passing) to ensure my success, but I did not achieve it, much to my shock and dismay.

Issue #3: The line between ‘cute’ and ‘scary’

I had a romantic interest in a certain female of the opposite sex and, since I had already learned that requesting sex invariably meets with mixed results (e.g. pepper spray), I proceeded to write volumes of gushy poetry about her. ‘Surely’ thought I ‘not ALL things in Hollywood movies are false’. Alas, it was not as I imagined. Upon presenting my book of poetry, penned in blood and other bodily fluids, she did not immediately melt into my arms. Undaunted, I recited a speech containing such gems as “I can’t live without you” “You are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I climax” and the ever popular “I want to be on you”. She responded NOT with “Take me now, you sensitive yet masculine specimen” but words I did not quite understand, like “I don’t even know who you are” and “my dad is a lawyer” and “How did you get into my bedroom?” I need not tell you, I was once again most confused. The police were unsympathetic.


And so I conclude this letter with a simple request. Please make your movies more like life really is, or change life to fit your movies. Also, please make a sequel to the Super Mario Brothers movie, as I felt that it was a genre that deserved much more exploration. Thank you.

I was out in the proverbial “park” the other day, and as I was walking my pet elephant (his name is Judith and he’s 2 years old), I saw these two dudes, who were obviously pretty gay, kissing. I thought, flabbergasted, “omg wtf r these dudes doing, this sux”, and I was appalled and shocked. I continued my walk, obviously disturbed, when I saw these two other chicks, who were also obviously pretty gay, kissing. Then I was like “wow, this rox, we should get more of that”. I stood to watch them for a bit, but they must have noticed Judith after 10 minutes so I had to leave, making a mental note never to take him for a walk again, he’s too conspicuous.
This prologue serves as an introduction to the following question, that torments me ever since: Should I support gays, lesbians, or neither/both? All of these choices have their advantages/disadvantages, on which I will promptly elaborate.

Supporting neither.

By supporting neither, you will most often be flagged as a damn bigot, and some people might figure out that your strong disapproval is a reaction to your oppressed homosexuality, or in other words that you’re gay. BAD. I don’t think there are any advantages to this opinion, so it’s rejected.

Supporting lesbians.

This is a real quandary. As you surely know (or as any man will tell you, if you’re a woman), The order of enjoyment in sex is, rated:
Two women and you (10/10)
Two women (9/10)
A woman (8/10)
A woman and you (7/10)
You (2/10)
A man and you (-124/10)
This argument seems to be clearly in favor of supporting lesbians, but the very very clear disadvantage is that for every lesbian couple, there are two less women that would sleep with me. That is very very disturbing and clearly a point to consider before reaching a verdict.

Supporting gays.

The disadvantage here is that two men having sex is disgusting, unless you’re homosexual. Should one condone this behaviour in favor of its advantages? Considering that most homosexual people do not like to provoke and do not have sex in public or in your house, I would say that it doesn’t bother me much. Although the same could be said about lesbians, but I hope lesbians will change their minds and have a lot of sex in public, or even better, in my house (LesbianOrgiesInMyHouse@poromenos.org, email me if you are a woman and willing to try). But, back to the subject in hand, the very very appealing advantage is that for every gay couple, there are two less men that compete with you, so your chances with the opposite sex are much higher. If we believe the various jokes, gay people are handsome, kind, caring, and rich, which is kinda like a lottery winner deciding to become a monk and giving you all the winnings.

Supporting both.

The advantage here is that everyone will think you are very open-minded and generally rock. The disadvantage is that category 1 will not like you very much and will probably think you are the spawn of satan, and will curse you in church on Sundays, so make sure your Save vs Spell is very high.
By the way, bisexual women do not belong in any of these categories. I am always in favor of bisexual women, there is no doubt about that (BisexualWomenHere@poromenos.org, email me, we’ll get a ThreeOrMoresome going).
After a lot of thinking, I have decided that I will support both. I have reached this decision because I feel that lesbians are a great great source of enjoyment (just look at all the woman to woman porn), and I also feel that gay men will help offset the loss of two women and actually help in raising my odds. Finally, as long as gay men don’t hit on me (OR SHOW ME PICTURES OF THEIR NAKED BOYFRIEND IN THE SHOWER, FUCK YOU, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), they are welcome to be as gay as they want, I support that.
Finally, I would like to stress that BISEXUAL WOMEN SHOULD CONTACT ME ASAP. No dogs please.