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.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
"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.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
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...)