Real Life Week One

One week in. I haven't touched this thing in months but seeing a vampire movie inspired me to continue whatever this is. My complete lack of audience means I'm pretty much writing this for myself, which seems narcissistic because, well, it is.

I just puked up ten bucks worth of Chipotle so right now I don't care how self absorbed I am.

That's all I seem to write about, hating vampire fiction and vomit.

The reason I have nausea so close to midnight is because I made the journey back to Tuscaloosa to celebrate the National Championship we've just won. I'd been moved out for a bout a month so this was my first time experiencing a game like atmosphere from a non-student perspective in four years. What did I learn?

Parking can be a bitch.

But in some desperate sad ode to try and still prove that I was "Billy Bad Ass" I went a lil' overboard boozing for two days straight. Overboard meaning straight shots of Jim Beam all weekend. This means when the nausea hit at eleven o'clock the day after the Chipotle had to come back up.

All in the name of my Peter Pan syndrome.

Not all bad though, I got a job now. Rare for people these days and something I'm sure to emphasize when seeing someone from the past four years. It's kind of like, "Hey, look, I'm not a complete idiot. I didn't kill myself in some bizarre accident. I turned into a normal Joe Schmo. Find this surprising dammit."

No ones biting.

About the Vampire movie, it's called Daybreakers and it reaffirmed all my previously held beliefs about the vampire genre. To be a vampire you must have slicked back hair. If you are a human you have to have loose hair. These are the rules.

In the real world excessive hair gel is a sign that you are an Italian from the north or a homophobic MMA junkie from the West. I'm just kidding. No I'm not. Your hair is ridiculously stupid. Fall down some stairs.

Daybreakers is by far the worst thing that has happened to me in awhile. It is poorly written and relies on Willem Defoe, or whatever his name is, to pull of a bad ass character from Tennessee nick named, wait for it, Elvis. Though this isn't the worst fake southern accent in a movie, it's close.

He compares being a human in a vampire world to "going bareback on a five dollar whore."

Whoever thought that would be a nice "tough guy" line comin' out in a crappy accent needs to be sterilized and shoved down some stairs. Let me go ahead and ruin this movie. The film ends with the main vampire becoming human and driving off into the sunset in a car with a phoenix painted on the hood. I hope I ruined the movie for you. Now you won't waste your time and money on this travesty.

Unless you're someone I hate, then I suggest you go see this movie. If you know for a fact that I hate you, stop what you are doing and get off the Internet and go see Daybreakers.

Take your hair gel.

Yet another crime committed by the vampire fad.

Also Lane Kiffin, not exactly the nicest person on the planet. It takes a serious amount of underhanded mercenary tactics, equivalent to slapping a baby with a frying pan to make me feel sympathy for the University of Tennessee. They are the purveyor of many an atrocious act of villainy and deceit. Also they suck, their fans sucks, and I really hate Rocky Top.

Low and behold, Lane Kiffin was a such an utter back stabbing cherub of destruction and filth that I am actually able to feel sympathy for the University of Hell.

Go figure.

Lastly having to shave this regularly is becoming a serious pain.