Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Trust"

   Alright. I'm back. Sorry, for the delay. I keep getting sidetracked by epic side projects. I told myself I wasn't gonna sell out anymore with these reviews, but your Ol' Uncle Adam's gotta eat, so here's this new one. I was sick of turnin' my brain to old mayonnaise with these soft serve doodoo summer blockbusters, so I figured I'd see what's new & exciting on this indie scene. I checked out a few new hot ones, but I'm gonna tell you about this creepy sack of...ummm....fun(?) cuz it's the last one I just watched so it's still bakery-fresh in the old noodle.

"Viaja Bizarro" (a factual recollection of a non-portuguese true story as experienced by Adam A. Smith)

   16 is a damn fine age to be an over-active junkie. The average teenager never has quite the same adventures as the teen let loose on the streets of an urban wonderland with a head full of hallucinogens and veins pumped to the gills with various narcotic cocktails. The recount laid out below is a prime example. I've been told countless times that this is a story that needs to be written, so here it is. Although our perceptions were severely altered at the time, this is by far one of the most memorable days of my teenage life. It probably isn't quite what really happened, but this is how it was remembered through our haze of color streaks and melting faces.

   I'll reluctantly start this off with the cliché that this day took flight like any other for us. After another long 12-15 hour meth-binge induced night of dart matches, crosswords, PlayStation, and no blinking, the retina-searing sun was up once again. This was our bi-weekly special day though since my "business partner" and best friend (we'll call him Cannon for the sake of anonymity) and I both got paid from our shitty part-time jobs and our ritual on such an occasion was to pool our money together and buy as many drugs as we could find with the $500-$600 we'd have. Didn't matter what kind. This day's specials included, another 8-ball of the iciest of ice shards, two hits of double-stacked Ecstasy pills based with heroin, a quarter ounce of weed, a vial of liquid acid, and two 40-ounce bottles of the finest lager known to homeless men everywhere: 211 Steel Reserve. The only thing left was to figure out a mission. This was around the time that that uber-terrible Final Fantasy movie came out and, despite the fact that we both knew it looked awful, we figured that if we abused our brains enough with the smorgasbord of illicit chemicals in our pockets, it could at least be pretty to look at. The next part was to find out where it was playing. Was it at the Cinedome Theaters less than a mile away? Fuck no, it wasn't. It was playing at Sunrise Mall, which we later found out was between 7-8 miles away from our start-point. Fuck it. We had more than enough jet fuel to get us there on foot and since it was at a mall, we figured, why not drizzle half the acid on sticks of gum and sell it while we're there to get some of our money back? Brilliant. Mission accepted. With the juices in hand and an objective on the agenda, it was time to set our face-holes ablaze before beginning our strenuous trek.

Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Cowboys & Aliens"

  This movie fucking SUCKED. I'm not gonna beat around any bushes or anything. I'm just gonna lay it out for you straight: LAMENESS.

Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes"

   I've never really been the guy to get all wet over summer movie blockbuster regurgitated action crap. Transformers: We've been there. Harry Potter: Damn, still? Avatar: Fucking hated it with a hot fiery passion. I could list off countless more beautiful embarrassments, but I think you smell what I'm squirtin here. As an admitted viewer of movies I shouldn't have at home yet, I have to admit that I'm glad that I actually went and paid to go see this (aside from the fact that the theater I went to had assigned seating. What the fuck kinda shit is that? I'm a grown ass man! I don't want some lil 15 year old tweeny-bop bitch telling me where to park my ass. FUCK YOU RAVE THEATERS. Whatever. Sorry. Anyway...)

Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Super"

 "SHUT UP, CRIME!!" is the awesome catch-phrase of our "hero," The Crimson Bolt, in the new addition to a forming trend of anti-superhero movies following such others as Defendor, Special, and the disappointing Kick-Ass. Rainn Wilson is Frank. A painfully pathetic loser who finds out that his ex-junkie wife (Liv Tyler) has willingly left him for a cock-of-the-walk super-cool drug-dealing Kevin Bacon. After finding it impossible to cope, Frank finds inspiration in a terrible low budget TV hero named The Holy Avenger on the Jesus Network and decides that it's time to don a DIY superhero costume and start fighting crime with nothing more than a pipe-wrench. Along his crusades, he picks up a psychotic kid sidekick named Boltie (Ellen Page). The rules were written long ago; You don't butt in line, you don't key cars, and YOU DON'T MOLEST CHILDREN! This is definitely my new favorite of the average-Joe wannabe-hero movies I listed above because it does, by far, the best job of making you cackle and cringe, all at the same time. Not only did the comedy have me soggin up my manties, but it's got a lot to offer in the aspect of gore too. James Gunn (Slither) creates a  perfect mesh of dark humor and cracked-skull, exposed-brain-fragment ultra-violence.

Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Captain America: The First Avenger"

The best superhero movie since the first Iron Man (sorry, nothing will ever compare to Dark Knight). Joe Johnston's come a long way with this worthy addition to the ever growing Marvel Universe franchise since such forgettable yawn-fests as Hidalgo and the terribly embarrassing cheese of The Wolfman. I have to admit that, considering all of the strategically amusing cross-overs that Marvel has done with their latest films to make their Universe feel more like a world of its own, I was a little upset to find out that Chris Evans was cast in this installment since he has already appeared as the Human Torch in the awful shit-on-my-fond-comic-memories Craptastic 4 movies, but after seeing him shine as the would-be stereo-type of an underdog, I'm willing to sweep those two cartoonish turd-muffins under the rug. Super powers aside, this flick does a great job of assuming the role of a nostalgic WWII-propaganda-waving period piece. It has an amazing and the drama in it is pretty decent with Evans bumbling around as a gee-golly-sorry-about-that dipshit for the first half. Then, our little 90lb wuss gets a makeover in the same machine that Steve Urkel used to use to become Stephan Urkell. Steve Rogers ups Urkel though in the babe factor. He sets his sights on a bangin Brit (Hayley Atwell) instead of stressin over the panties of that plain-looking, big-toothed, giant-forehead havin Winslow girl next door. Ahhh, but I digress. I give this flick a pretty healthy recommendation. Sure it has it's cheese-factors, but what Hollywood production doesn't come stock with forced love angles and diluted dialogue? It comes with the territory. You just gotta know what kinda turd your steppin in. It's no Dark Knight, but luckily, it sure as hell isn't The Green Fuckin Lantern by any means either. I'd give it a 6.5/10.

Ol' Uncle Adam Goes To The Movies!: "Sucker Punch"

Girl Interrupted Meets The Spartans in The Matrix. Soooo, all that shitty girl-power cheesy action shit really just meant the bitch was doin some shitty dance? What kinda shit is that? The magnitude of this shitty movie's utter shittiness knows no bounds. Adam disapproves. I normally enjoy a little plot or character development in the movies I watch and this steamin heap of chick shit is a prime example of why.
"I have an idea! Let's remake Spice World and have the guy that made The Legends Of Ga'fuckinHoole direct it. Yeah, people like gratuitous slow motion ninja flips and strippers! Let's have all of our overly stylized flips be for absolutely no fucking reason and let's make it so that none of the strippers ever take their clothes off. Yeah, that makes sense! It shows that they have integrity or some shit. Don't forget to give them all stupid names that make no fucking sense and, for kicks, we'll throw in that girl from High School Musical who flashed her pubes on the internet that one time. Hey! What's Scott Glenn doing these days? You think he might have time to play a character that isn't real who ends up playing a real guy at the end like one of them mind-blowing Shyamalan twists? Yeah, people are fucking stupid. They'll love it. Maybe we can litter all of his scenes with cliche old samurai master advice so that people will think he's deep and quote him on their Facebook posts! Oh, the people will pour in by the masses for it! Not only will they pay for it, but we can charge an extra $5 for them to wear uncomfortable goggles while we make a fun little gimmick out of throwing random shit at the camera for no fuckin reason! Brilliant! Fuck you, America!"
Well, fuck you, Mr. Zack Snyder. Fuck you very much. I thought you had something going for you after 300, Watchmen, and your pretty decent remake of Dawn Of The Dead (I'll overlook the Owl movie. C'mon, he tried for the kids!), but now I see you're just another Hollywood whore. They turned out Joe Carnahan, even Kevin Smith turned to flippin tricks with Cop Out...and now you too can hang your jersey on the wall of director's that had so much to offer, but went to the dark side. Tell Michael Bay I said "Hi," you money-grubbin bitch.

Total Fuckin' Noob (is that how you spell that? I dunno...Whatever. You're the dumb one)

  Alright, dammit. After having everyfuckinbody and their uncle's secret lovers hound me for I don't know how long, I finally made a damn blog site. I don't know what the hell to put on here at the moment and seeing as how I'm feeling a little pressured here like when someone comes up and tells you to "SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!!! HYUK HYUK HYUK!" (like you have a whole set lined up for such an obnoxious occasion. Shut the fuck up, dummy.) or when it's time for a latent homosexual in denial to wipe the nervous sweat away & prove himself at the ol' labe plate, I chose, rather than to whip out something new and panty-drenchin, to just waste time writing you a drawn-out excuse here and then I lazily added 3 of my old pieces from my last failed blog (god, that fucking word's stupid). So here it is, fuckers. Judge me. Tear me down. Give me cyber-blowies equal to that of the metaphorical celluloid dick-sucking J.J. Abrams gave to Spielberg when he made Super-8. I don't care. I'm a needy bitch that yearns for your attention so give it to me fierce, Papi. If you do happen to dig my future scribblings, I added a "share" option on the side of the page under my breath-taking self-portrait so you can help whore me out to strangers in hopes that this puppy learns to shit outside. If you don't, just talk your shit in the comments and I'll be open to any of it...I'll probably just tell you to go fuck yourself though since I have issues with any thoughts or ideas having to do with me not being better than you. In any case...that's all I got for now.

THIS JIGGLY BLOB OF DUMBFUCK IS REAL! SHE IS NOT A MYTH! I'VE MET HER!!! FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET FUCKING CHRIST, SAVE YOURSELVES!!!

  In the land of the retarded, he who thinks shall be looked down upon.  Welcome to motherfucking [company name omitted], where dreams go to die!

 You know that episode of the Twilight Zone where the guy wakes up and he's the same, but everyone else in the entire world is different? ....Well, you know every episode of the Twilight Zone? That is what has become of my daily work life. I honestly believe that, had there never been an Einstein, I could actually walk into that god-forsaken fuckin tard farm and break down the theory of relativity in great detail and my store manager wouldn't hesitate to make a blatant low-vocab comment about what an idiot I am and then cut both my pay and hours, but if any one of the other managers walks in, points to a purple bag and announces, "THIS RED!" she would be showered in praise and probably offered a raise while getting a motherfucking shiatzu.
 
  The dummies that inhabit this godless shithole are absolutely dimmer than no other, but in comparison, they shine like tin foil to a simple bitch once one EXCEPTIONAL snot brained dipshit opens the door. SWEET FUCKING CHRIST!!!! She, who shall remain nameless (it's currently my day off so I'd prefer to save my cerebral cortex from any further blood vessels bursting from the thought of her name), is  by far & away THE stupidest person (without an actual clinical mental disorder) that I have ever encountered in my entire life! I've met dummies before, but [name omitted] takes the tard cake like no other. No words can possibly do justice for just how fucking vacant this bitch's head is. [name omitted] needs to be locked up in a university somewhere to be studied for future generations to come! No Joke. No exaggeration. Dumber than a bucket of monkey spunk! Words like dumb, stupid, dense, dim, retarded, moronic, idiotic, etc. do absolutely NOTHING to describe [name omitted]. A whole new word needs to be concocted just to even begin some sort of definition for this IQ level (or lack there of). She is more than enough to show even the pope, himself, that there is either no God at all, or that if there is, he is a complete fucking sadist! I can actually feel my knowledge of things like the alphabet, multiplication tables, how to ride a bike, etc. evaporating out of my ear like useless vapor as she speaks.
 
  I realize that the descriptions that I have put out on the table thus far may seem "out there," "far-fetched," maybe even unbelievable. I realize this. That is precisely the reason why I'd like to lay out a few prime examples of the countless accounts of mind-numbing mummalardium (<--I made that up!) that I have to deal with daily! So, please, before moving forward, make sure that you're strapped into your rubber helmet and have something soft in your mouth to keep you from severing your tongue or breaking your teeth. It hurts.

  She tells me to move something on the shelf, I say, "I cannot." She says, "The reason being?" I respond, "I have no hands." After a look of head-cocked confusion similar to that of a puppy when you blow a dog whistle, she ACTUALLY looks down at my hands and with a look of enlightened realization says, "Oh, you!"

  For Xmas, she (a manager, mind you) buys a bunch of the minor aged employees bottles of wine. When told that she could get in a lot of trouble for buying 18 & 19-year-old employees alcohol, she responds "Well, no! You only have to be 21 to be in bars, not to drink. They're over 18. I'm not THAT stupid!" I say, "No, you have to be that age in a bar BECAUSE they serve alcohol." She says, "Nuh-uhh! Oh, man! I didn't know that!"

  She says, "Do you have any gum or candy?" I answer, "No, I actually don't eat candy OR chew gum." She replies, "But do you have any?" I repeat myself & add, "Why would I have any if I don't eat the shit?!?" Soon after, she finds some candy in the office & when she comes out with it, she announces to me, "I found some candy back there! Do you want some?" "NO, GODFUCKINGDAMMIT! I DON'T FUCKING EAT FUCKING CANDY!!!!"  She then comes back with, "Well, I didn't know! Geeze!"

 She was trying to convince me that vampires and witches exist. I tell her, "Well, no. There's people that practice vampyrism and there's people that practice witchcraft, but the actual beings don't really exist. There's a difference."  She stands firmly (and sorta jiggly), "No! They're REAL!!"  I humor her, "Okay, we live in one of the most densely populated tourist cities in the world (Vegas). There's ALL types here. I want you to go out there into the mall or walk down there to the strip and bring me back a motherfuckin' vampire. I work 'til 7. It'll be dark. I'll wait."  She replies, "Silly. They wouldn't hang out there!"  "What the fuck?? Where the fuck would they hang out then??"  "I dunno! Besides, How do you know they're fake anyway?"  I grumble, "The fuckin' Tooth Fairy told me."  And she actually says in what sounded to me like a tone of disbelief, "She did not!"
 
  I can't go on. It's too painful to my thinking parts, but there it is. That is just a mere taste of just a few of the most recent "conversations' with [name omitted]. She really exists. She is not a myth. She is not an imaginary figment. I, children, have to deal with this jiggly blob of dumbfuck everytime I go to work. I don't want pity. No, save the pity. Just understand. Understand why I detest going into work with every single ounce of my very being. Has your intellect ever actually been injured? Do you know how loud an embolism sounds when it explodes in your head? No? Talk to the bitch. FUCKING TALK TO HER! And you, too, will know. You, too, will see my dismay. Tell the townsfolk and warn the children! She's out there!

STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM  [NAME OMITTED]!!!!

An exerpt from one of Adam's most recent fantasies...Please, enjoy. I know I did. I'm Adam!

>>>(in this scene/fantasy, our hero, Adam, has brought some homemade burritos to work for his bosses to show just how much he appreciates their efforts. Ok. And here we go...)<<<

   OUR HERO, ADAM: "Here are those delicious special burritos I told you all about. I certainly hope you enjoy them!"  
EVIL BOSSES: "Mmm. Yes, Adam. Delicious. Yes. Quite delicious indeed. We love them. You must share the recipe. What is this delightful meat I'm tasting here? We love the meat. Please tell us about this heavenly meat that has graced our tastebuds. It is a delight! Please. Share with us this meat secret. This secret meat. Mmmm. Delightful meat."  
OUR HERO, ADAM: "Oh, the meat? What's the meat, you ask? Yes, well let me tell you...IT'S YOUR STUPID KIDS [and copious amounts of semen], YA' DUMB BITCH!! OH, YEAH! CHALK ONE UP FOR THE MOTHERFUCKIN HOME TEAM, BABY! YUP! I TOTALLY FILLETED & DICED YOUR DEMON SPAWN AND YOU JUST FUCKIN ATE 'EM [and copious amounts of semen], YOU AWFUL AWFUL PEOPLE! MOOOHOOHOOHAHAHAHA! YES! WHO IS THE DUMB ONE NOW? NOT ME! I DIDN'T JUST EAT *MY* KID [and copious amounts of semen]!!! I FUCKING WIN, CUNTS! WHO'S A DUMB CUNT? THAT'S YOU! FUCK YEAH IT IS! YOU'RE DUMB CUNTS! MOOOHOOOHOOHAHAHAHA YOU WANNA KNOW WHY? CUZ YOU JUST ATE YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MEAT MIDGETS [and copious amounts of semen]! BETTER BUY A BLACK DRESS! YA' KNOW? TO WEAR TO YOUR KID'S STUPID FUNERAL!! MOOOHOOOHOOHAHAHAHA CUZ YOU JUST FUCKIN ATE HIM [and copious amounts of semen]!!! HE'S INSIDE YOU [with copious amounts of semen]! Hahahaha WHOOO! Now that's good stuff! Bwoi, I tell you what! Alright then...You dumb bitches have a good day. Good stuff." (chuckles to self)

>>>(scene/fantasy ends.)<<<<

"An Exerpt Of Unwritten Fiction" ~by Adam Q. Montgomery Smith

  His birthday was tomorrow and no matter how deep he dug, he couldn't seem to find a single emotion to help him figure how he felt about this. Nothing. A trait that had followed him for as long as he could remember. A trait pointed out to him by others as a weakness. He felt nothing for this either. He always found that he was gifted with his lack of emotion. He found it to be more of a strength. No sissy cry-baby nonsense ever held him back from his day-to-day. Nope. Whatever. Fuck 'em all. What did they know anyway? He wondered when the last time he had any kind of emotional outburst even was. Nothing. Tomorrow was the dawning of a new year though. "What's the fuckin difference?" he quietly thought to himself through a wrinkled brow upon his seemingly focused stare as he gazed out over the courtyard from the edge of his third floor balcony, stale flavored smoke slowly trickling up his face from the corners of his mouth, fingers unconsciously fiddling the semi-hard erection through the hole in the pocket of his old jeans. The same pair of jeans he had kept over the years as a reminder of his own inner strength. A reminder of the bad habits of yesteryear that he had kicked all by himself long ago. No lame ass meetings for this guy. Fuck no. Meetings are for emotional homos anyway. He sure did miss that lifestyle though. Boy, did he miss it. The excitement of that high always had a way of helping him get in touch with those evasive emotions of his. Those same emotions that people yelled at him for not having now. That same high that people looked down on him for having then. What's worse? Having people look down on you for doing what you want to do, or having them yell at you for doing what you think they want of you incorrectly? It didn't matter. He didn't want to go back to that sick and sordid past of his, but this snail's pace present didn't seem anymore intriguing.
  Not even in the face of death itself could he bring himself to feel a twisted look of sadness or even muster up a single tear. Fuck it. "Aah, what's the fuckin' use anyway?" he muttered out loud to himself as he loosened the knot and removed the 50-foot safety-orange extension cord from his neck. Not today. Not in front of all these neighbors. It was bad enough that he had been secretly fondling his penis just a few yards above a bunch of kids playing in the courtyard. He didn't need to interrupt their games with offing himself. Not today. He may not feel emotions, but he still knows the difference between right & wrong. Not gonna traumatize any kids today. No, sir. Not today. Might as well go inside, ruin another Hot Pocket, draw the shades, and finish off this semi alone in the dark. Best to whack this groundhog while it's seein' its shadow anyhow. Could be 6 more weeks before another bloom. Best to appreciate little things when opportunity erects itself. Doesn't happen like it used to. Besides, what else is an almost 30 year-old emotionless dildo salesman gonna do on the day before his birthday? Suicide's for emotional homos anyway.